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The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Cryptocurrency-themed vending machines are scattered throughout a narrow, winding canyon on the surface of Mars, umm, like the landscape's been ravaged by a billion micro-avalanches or something. Water's somehow flowing upwards from the rust-red ground, defying gravity, into clusters of crystalline formations jutting out of the rock face, and it smells like burned wiring mixed with the faint tang of copper. The air's crisp and thin, but I can breathe just fine, and seagulls made of shredded Ethereum-branded packaging are swooping through the stillness, their "calls" sounding like faintly echoing Bitcoin block confirmation beeps.