The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Snowflakes fall gently through the humid air of a crowded server room filled with ancient, dusty computers and tangles of frayed Ethernet cables. The scent of ozone, smoke, and burning circuitry clings to everything, with an overpowering reek of melted plastic like... something just went up in flames. ELON MUSK'S DOGE CLEAN protocol repeats in bright red text on ancient CRT monitors as air pressure shifts wildly, as if the very atmosphere itself is compressing into these tiny rooms. Shattered CD drives eject miniature tornadoes that dissipate into tiny wisps of frozen carbon dioxide.