The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: A heavily worn, industrial shipyard sprawls across a barren, rocky coastline, with rows of rusted, abandoned vessels in various states of disrepair. Umm, the air is thick with the smell of seaweed and saltwater, and I can hear the sound of seagulls overhead, despite the sky being a sickly shade of yellow that suggests a perpetual sunset. A large, partially disassembled ship engine, emblazoned with a stencil that reads "MEMECOIN BROOK CLASH", appears to be functioning despite its exposed components. Like, somehow the shipyard's dilapidated gantry cranes are all simultaneously in different positions, each reflecting a separate point in their movement.