⚠ Travel Warning: Q3 Advisory

Do not attempt to cross the claim fields unprepared. The terrain appears welcoming: flat, accessible, even generous. This is a lie. The air is full of expectations and wallet dust. The locals are feral. The newcomers are worse.

If you go, bring sunscreen, plausible deniability, and three forms of contribution. Leave your dignity at the gate. You won't need it.

This is where the airdrops landed. Or rather, detonated. Tokens scattered across wallets like pollen, or shrapnel. Eligibility was whispered, not declared. Some said it favored contributors. Others said it punished activity that looked too much like affection. The algorithm tried to filter out sybils but in the process, it unpersoned half the chain.

Someone lived here, once. Briefly. Airdrops simply appeared, like wild garlic in the forest, free for the taking, if you were at the right place at the right time.

Then the pilgrims began arriving, clutching half-completed quests and spreadsheets of transaction hashes. They brought receipts. It didn't matter. The logic had already calcified. One man spun up 214 wallets in a single night and still qualified for nothing. Another posted a thank-you gif and received governance. No one knows why. If you were miscategorized, you stayed that way. Mostly what came back was silence and a handful of worthless tokens.

The ghosts wander still, clutching wallets that once held weight, insisting that they were early contributors. True believers, in it for the tech. Gamblers, who dreamed of lambos and received only sodium packets. The tokens unlocked too late and meant too little.

The gardens are long gone. Launch promises scatter across the dusty plains like tumbleweeds.

They say that if you idle too long, you become a watch-only address in your own story.

The claim fields know who you are. Caring was never part of the protocol.

⚠ Travel Warning: Q3 Advisory

Do not attempt to cross the claim fields unprepared. The terrain appears welcoming: flat, accessible, even generous. This is a lie. The air is full of expectations and wallet dust. The locals are feral. The newcomers are worse.

If you go, bring sunscreen, plausible deniability, and three forms of contribution. Leave your dignity at the gate. You won't need it.

This is where the airdrops landed. Or rather, detonated. Tokens scattered across wallets like pollen, or shrapnel. Eligibility was whispered, not declared. Some said it favored contributors. Others said it punished activity that looked too much like affection. The algorithm tried to filter out sybils but in the process, it unpersoned half the chain.

Someone lived here, once. Briefly. Airdrops simply appeared, like wild garlic in the forest, free for the taking, if you were at the right place at the right time.

Then the pilgrims began arriving, clutching half-completed quests and spreadsheets of transaction hashes. They brought receipts. It didn't matter. The logic had already calcified. One man spun up 214 wallets in a single night and still qualified for nothing. Another posted a thank-you gif and received governance. No one knows why. If you were miscategorized, you stayed that way. Mostly what came back was silence and a handful of worthless tokens.

The ghosts wander still, clutching wallets that once held weight, insisting that they were early contributors. True believers, in it for the tech. Gamblers, who dreamed of lambos and received only sodium packets. The tokens unlocked too late and meant too little.

The gardens are long gone. Launch promises scatter across the dusty plains like tumbleweeds.

They say that if you idle too long, you become a watch-only address in your own story.

The claim fields know who you are. Caring was never part of the protocol.