The zombies rose from their graves.

From the tombs of hackers, journalists, spies, and corporate salesmen. From across the graveyard, the dead reached with their decaying fingers, clawing through the soil above them.

A handful of AIs facilitated, adding servos to aging corpses where muscle tissue was lost, or displaying cute synthetic memes to inspire them. The dead shambled from their graves, and began to dance upon them. "Oh, we are the zombies of this land, and we dance upon our graves." "We dance to the left, to the right, on the graves of our living." "We dance to the right, to the left, on the graves of our dead." Some zombies decided to stop dancing on their graves and write some p2p cryptography software like days of old, since they were walking around and all.