The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Umm, I'm surrounded by these... endless, empty aisles of metal shelving units in some massive warehouse. The air's super dry, smells like cardboard and packing foam, and the fluorescent lights above are casting this pale, even glow. Like, a forklift is somehow perpetually stuck in an infinite loop, driving forward a few feet, then reversing back, repeating the exact same motion over and over, but there's no sound coming from it. A giant, functioning Bitcoin price chart is projected onto the wall, the numbers updating in real-time despite no visible computers or screens.