The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Rain's pattering against the worn, rusted hull of a beached research submersible, partially buried in the wet, gray sand of a deserted coastline. Umm, the air's cool and damp, smelling of saltwater and diesel fuel, with seagulls crying in the distance. The sub's hatch is open, revealing a jumble of wires and a scrolling LED display showing lines of code and the phrase "WAGDIE SPORE CRYPTO" in bold, red letters, while a large, intact, glassy nautilus shell somehow contains the still-functional remnants of a Bitcoin mining rig. The sun's a faint glow behind the thick, gray cloud cover.