The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: The sun is beating down on a massive, twisted crash site of what looks like a hundred mid-air collisions between various aircraft, surrounded by the vast, cracked salt flats. Umm, the wreckage seems to be somehow... shifting, like it's slowly flowing into different configurations, and there's a low-pitched hum hanging over everything that's got the air rippling. A crystal shard reflecting the real-time Bitcoin price chart is lodged in the center of the wreckage, emitting a weird, pungent smell that's kinda like... ozone mixed with burned plastic, but sweeter. The air's got an electric charge that's making my skin prickle.