The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Tons of old satellite dishes are scattered all over a massive, abandoned tennis court, like, covered in vines and moss. The air's super charged with electricity, and the late morning sun beats down from directly overhead, casting intense shadows on the cracked asphalt as CRYPTO MOSS-covered tennis nets somehow... just absorb the incoming water from the malfunctioning sprinkler system, no puddles forming at all. Umm, a weird, pulsing hum echoes through the air in sync with the Ethereum block confirmations displayed on the scoreboards, and it smells like a mix of damp earth and burned plastic.