The "Hut" stood as an isolated but magnificent chalet nestled deep in the Alps, surrounded by snow-capped peaks and dense evergreen forests. The crisp mountain air carried the faint scent of pine, and a narrow, winding road—often blanketed by snow—led to this sanctuary. Inside, the rustic interiors exuded warmth, with wooden beams, large windows offering panoramic views, and a crackling fireplace at its heart. Alias’s wealthy friend, a banker who asked no questions, had lent him the premises, adding an ironic touch to the undertaking at hand.
Alias stepped into the kitchen, the rich aroma of simmering stew filling the room. He stirred the pot slowly, the rhythmic sound of the spoon punctuating the heavy silence. Across the counter, Ava sliced bread, her movements deliberate, her gaze distant. The tension was palpable.
“You saw what happened with Bitcoin,” she said, breaking the silence. “It was supposed to be the people’s currency, free from state control. Now, look at it—captured by TradFi institutions, regulated into compliance.”
Alias nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It was inevitable,” he said, his voice steady. “Anything truly disruptive attracts two forces: adoption and control. Bitcoin was no different. The moment the banks figured out they could profit from it, they embraced it. Governments followed, layering regulation upon regulation until it became just another cog in the system.”
“But wasn’t that the point?” Ava pressed, her voice rising slightly. “To create something outside the reach of centralized power? The separation of State and Money, they called it!”
“It was the point,” Alias replied, pausing to taste the stew. “But ideals are fragile. Without the right governance model, even the most decentralized network can be captured.”
Ava tilted her head, studying him. “So what’s your take? How do we avoid repeating the same mistakes?”
Alias glanced at her, a faint smile playing on his lips. “That’s a longer conversation,” he said, returning his focus to the stew. “One we’ll get to in time.”
As night fell, they moved to the warmth of the fireplace, sipping glasses of wine from Alias’s friend’s collection. The firelight flickered across Alias’s face as he spoke, his voice low but resolute.
“Pegged isn’t just a currency,” he said. “It’s a stablecoin system—self-sustaining, governed by a DAO, seeded through a lottery mechanism. A launch-and-forget protocol.”
Ava leaned back in her chair, the wineglass balanced delicately between her fingers. “Launch-and-forget?” she asked.
Alias nodded. “Yes, like an arrow shot in a general direction, not a specific target. No central authority, no single point of failure. The holders of the stablecoins and the lottery tickets will govern it. It’s designed to be resilient—it can’t be captured, in principle.”
“You’ve really thought this through,” Ava said softly, her gaze fixed on him. For a moment, the air between them felt charged, as if they were teetering on the edge of an unspoken understanding. “And my role?” she asked, breaking the spell.
“Outside the core team, but pivotal,” Alias replied, his tone steady. “You’ll help shape the narrative, guide early adoption. And there’s one more thing—we’re going to write a novel. A cover story, a way to disseminate the idea and recruit the right people.”
Ava chuckled, shaking her head. “A novel, huh? You’ve always been a bit of a romantic.”
Alias smiled faintly. “Perhaps. But this romanticism might just work.”
The next morning, they sat at the kitchen table, the golden light of dawn streaming through the windows. Ava tapped her spoon against her coffee cup, deep in thought.
“You know, Satoshi walked away after launching Bitcoin. Left it to the community.”
Alias leaned forward, his expression intense. “And look what happened. Fragmentation, forks, capture. Brilliant, but incomplete. We’re learning from that.”
“And you think Pegged will do better?” Ava asked. “What’s the difference between Satoshi’s situation and yours?”
Alias hesitated before answering. “Not better—different,” he said. “Pegged isn’t about me, or you, or any central figure. It’s about building something that evolves beyond us.”
By midday, Ava stood by the door, her coat draped over one arm. Alias walked her to the entrance, his steps slow and deliberate.
“You understand why you can’t be part of the core team, right?” he asked quietly.
Ava turned to face him, her expression serious. “Because they’ll come after me. After us. And if I’m outside the core, I can act without drawing too much attention.”
“Exactly,” Alias said. “But make no mistake—you’ll be pivotal. Without you, this doesn’t work.”
Ava nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. “See you soon, Alias.”
He watched her leave, her footsteps fading into the snow. The experiment had begun.
