Steenberg remained seated after the others had gathered their folders and left the glass-walled conference room. Outside, the skyline reflected in the river like a diagram drawn twice. On the screen behind him, frozen mid-slide, was the title: OPERATION DISRUPT — INTERAGENCY COORDINATION BRIEF.

He muted the projector and watched the black rectangle swallow its own light.

Pegged.

A lottery protocol. A stablecoin without collateral. A payment rail no one had licensed.

He did not believe in coincidence. Systems like this did not emerge from nowhere. They emerged from rooms — from minds — from conversations that left traces.

Three roles, he had said earlier.

A strategist. A developer. A distribution coordinator.

But ideas required narration. And narration required a voice.

He opened his notebook and turned back three pages. A name circled lightly in pencil.

Ava Lemaire
Investigative journalist. Financial reform. Central bank opacity. Distributed governance.

She had written once about “the romance of institutional finality.” A curious phrase.

He tapped his pen against the paper once, then reached for his phone.

Ava was at her desk when the number flashed across her screen. No caller ID. European prefix.

She let it ring twice more than necessary.

“Lemaire.”

“Ms. Lemaire. Markus Steenberg.”

A pause — not too long.

“Mr. Steenberg. That’s unexpected.”

“I hope not unwelcome.”

“That depends on the topic.”

His voice was even. Polished. “I’m calling in a professional capacity. A phenomenon has crossed our desks. It touches on monetary policy and regulatory perimeter. Your field.”

“Which phenomenon?”

“Something calling itself Pegged.”

She allowed the silence to breathe.

“I’ve seen the name circulate,” she said finally. “Lottery-based distribution? A kind of anti-governance experiment?”

“You know more than most journalists.”

“I read white papers,” she replied lightly. “Occupational hazard.”

Steenberg watched the river outside. “Then you understand why it concerns us.”

“Concern is a broad word.”

“A protocol issuing denominated tokens — dollar, euro, yen — through irrevocable draws. No KYC layer. No freeze authority. No issuer to subpoena.”

“That sounds theoretically elegant,” she said. “In practice?”

“In practice,” he replied, “it is already being used for cross-border settlement.”

She felt her pulse quicken but kept her tone neutral. “Used by whom?”

“We’re still mapping that.”

“You called me to ask whether I know the people behind it?”

“I called,” he said, “because you have written sympathetically about distributed systems that resist institutional capture.”

“And that makes me a suspect?”

“It makes you informed.”

Ava leaned back in her chair. Outside her window, traffic moved with ordinary indifference.

“I know nothing operationally,” she said. “No founders, no addresses. If I did, I’d be verifying before publishing.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Is it?”

“It depends,” he said.

She smiled faintly. “What precisely troubles you, Mr. Steenberg? The lottery mechanism? The stability model? Or the absence of a compliance interface?”

“All of it.”

“But which first?”

He did not answer immediately.

“The absence of reversibility,” he said at last. “Once funds move through a draw, there is no recall. No judicial freeze.”

“You’re describing finality. Most central banks consider it a virtue.”

“Under supervision.”

“And Pegged operates without one.”

“Yes.”

“So this is about control,” she said quietly.

“This is about systemic risk.”

“Define systemic.”

“If large volumes migrate into an instrument beyond regulatory reach, we lose visibility. If criminal actors test it successfully, we lose leverage. If retail confidence shifts, we lose monetary coherence.”

“You’re assuming success.”

“We plan for it.”

She turned her chair slightly, watching her own reflection in the dark of the laptop screen.

“Have criminal actors tested it?” she asked.

“That is under review.”

“AML tracing?”

“Difficult.”

“KYC infiltration?”

“Nonexistent by design.”

“So your concern is not that it is fraudulent,” she said. “But that it works.”

A small silence.

“You phrase things sharply,” he said.

“It’s my profession.”

“And mine is to anticipate damage.”

“To institutions?”

“To stability.”

She let that sit.

“If I were to investigate Pegged,” she said casually, “what angle would you expect me to take?”

“That depends on your conclusions.”

“You called me. I assume you have expectations.”

“I expect clarity,” he said. “If this is an intellectual exercise, it will collapse under scale. If it is coordinated, we will find the coordination.”

“And if it is neither?” she asked.

“Nothing in finance is neither.”

She felt the edge beneath the calm now.

“You’re looking for a strategist,” she said softly.

“I’m looking for accountability.”

“For designing a lottery?”

“For issuing monetary instruments.”

“Without calling them that.”

“Yes.”

Ava tapped her pen once against the desk.

“Hypothetically,” she said, “if Pegged were simply code — deployed once, without upgrade path — who would you hold responsible?”

“The individuals who designed it.”

“Even if they cannot alter it?”

“Especially then.”

She exhaled slowly.

“You understand,” she said, “that investigative journalists do not function as intelligence assets.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Good.”

A beat.

“If I discover anything relevant to public interest,” she added, “I will publish it.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

He paused before continuing.

“If you hear of its founders — informally — you might advise them that we are not indifferent.”

“To what?”

“To the erosion of sovereign monetary authority.”

“Strong words.”

“They are accurate.”

Ava smiled faintly. “Perhaps Pegged is simply a mirror.”

“Mirrors can shatter.”

“So can institutions,” she said.

Another silence.

“Well,” she concluded lightly, “you’ve given me something to think about. It may indeed be an interesting phenomenon to investigate.”

“I’m sure you’ll approach it with rigor.”

“I always do.”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Lemaire.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Steenberg.”

The line went dead.

For several seconds she did not move.

The room was unchanged. Books, laptop, a half-finished coffee cooling beside her hand. Ordinary afternoon light on the wall.

Her hand trembled once before she stilled it.

He suspects.

Not proof. Not yet.

But he is mapping.

She stood and walked to the window. Down below, a cyclist swerved between cars. A dog barked. Someone laughed.

Somewhere in the Alps, a house of cedar and stone.

Alias.

If Steenberg had reached her, he was tracing proximity. Articles. Conferences. Shared panels. Old photographs.

She imagined headlines.

Journalist Linked to Unlicensed Monetary Protocol.
Regulatory Evasion Network Under Investigation.

Travel restrictions. Asset freezes. Reputational erasure.

And Alias — exposed not by code, but by association.

He had feared this.

Love makes you predictable.

She pressed her palm against the glass, feeling the cool surface steady her.

Do not call him.

Calling would create a pattern.

She returned to her desk and opened a blank document.

Title:

Pegged: Lottery as Monetary Infrastructure?

If the story were going to exist, she would shape it before others did.

But beneath the professional reflex was something colder:

They are coming.

Not for a bug. Not for a scam.

For the idea that money could operate without them.

She closed her eyes briefly, then began to type.

Steenberg remained seated after the others had gathered their folders and left the glass-walled conference room. Outside, the skyline reflected in the river like a diagram drawn twice. On the screen behind him, frozen mid-slide, was the title: OPERATION DISRUPT — INTERAGENCY COORDINATION BRIEF.

He muted the projector and watched the black rectangle swallow its own light.

Pegged.

A lottery protocol. A stablecoin without collateral. A payment rail no one had licensed.

He did not believe in coincidence. Systems like this did not emerge from nowhere. They emerged from rooms — from minds — from conversations that left traces.

Three roles, he had said earlier.

A strategist. A developer. A distribution coordinator.

But ideas required narration. And narration required a voice.

He opened his notebook and turned back three pages. A name circled lightly in pencil.

Ava Lemaire
Investigative journalist. Financial reform. Central bank opacity. Distributed governance.

She had written once about “the romance of institutional finality.” A curious phrase.

He tapped his pen against the paper once, then reached for his phone.

Ava was at her desk when the number flashed across her screen. No caller ID. European prefix.

She let it ring twice more than necessary.

“Lemaire.”

“Ms. Lemaire. Markus Steenberg.”

A pause — not too long.

“Mr. Steenberg. That’s unexpected.”

“I hope not unwelcome.”

“That depends on the topic.”

His voice was even. Polished. “I’m calling in a professional capacity. A phenomenon has crossed our desks. It touches on monetary policy and regulatory perimeter. Your field.”

“Which phenomenon?”

“Something calling itself Pegged.”

She allowed the silence to breathe.

“I’ve seen the name circulate,” she said finally. “Lottery-based distribution? A kind of anti-governance experiment?”

“You know more than most journalists.”

“I read white papers,” she replied lightly. “Occupational hazard.”

Steenberg watched the river outside. “Then you understand why it concerns us.”

“Concern is a broad word.”

“A protocol issuing denominated tokens — dollar, euro, yen — through irrevocable draws. No KYC layer. No freeze authority. No issuer to subpoena.”

“That sounds theoretically elegant,” she said. “In practice?”

“In practice,” he replied, “it is already being used for cross-border settlement.”

She felt her pulse quicken but kept her tone neutral. “Used by whom?”

“We’re still mapping that.”

“You called me to ask whether I know the people behind it?”

“I called,” he said, “because you have written sympathetically about distributed systems that resist institutional capture.”

“And that makes me a suspect?”

“It makes you informed.”

Ava leaned back in her chair. Outside her window, traffic moved with ordinary indifference.

“I know nothing operationally,” she said. “No founders, no addresses. If I did, I’d be verifying before publishing.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“Is it?”

“It depends,” he said.

She smiled faintly. “What precisely troubles you, Mr. Steenberg? The lottery mechanism? The stability model? Or the absence of a compliance interface?”

“All of it.”

“But which first?”

He did not answer immediately.

“The absence of reversibility,” he said at last. “Once funds move through a draw, there is no recall. No judicial freeze.”

“You’re describing finality. Most central banks consider it a virtue.”

“Under supervision.”

“And Pegged operates without one.”

“Yes.”

“So this is about control,” she said quietly.

“This is about systemic risk.”

“Define systemic.”

“If large volumes migrate into an instrument beyond regulatory reach, we lose visibility. If criminal actors test it successfully, we lose leverage. If retail confidence shifts, we lose monetary coherence.”

“You’re assuming success.”

“We plan for it.”

She turned her chair slightly, watching her own reflection in the dark of the laptop screen.

“Have criminal actors tested it?” she asked.

“That is under review.”

“AML tracing?”

“Difficult.”

“KYC infiltration?”

“Nonexistent by design.”

“So your concern is not that it is fraudulent,” she said. “But that it works.”

A small silence.

“You phrase things sharply,” he said.

“It’s my profession.”

“And mine is to anticipate damage.”

“To institutions?”

“To stability.”

She let that sit.

“If I were to investigate Pegged,” she said casually, “what angle would you expect me to take?”

“That depends on your conclusions.”

“You called me. I assume you have expectations.”

“I expect clarity,” he said. “If this is an intellectual exercise, it will collapse under scale. If it is coordinated, we will find the coordination.”

“And if it is neither?” she asked.

“Nothing in finance is neither.”

She felt the edge beneath the calm now.

“You’re looking for a strategist,” she said softly.

“I’m looking for accountability.”

“For designing a lottery?”

“For issuing monetary instruments.”

“Without calling them that.”

“Yes.”

Ava tapped her pen once against the desk.

“Hypothetically,” she said, “if Pegged were simply code — deployed once, without upgrade path — who would you hold responsible?”

“The individuals who designed it.”

“Even if they cannot alter it?”

“Especially then.”

She exhaled slowly.

“You understand,” she said, “that investigative journalists do not function as intelligence assets.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Good.”

A beat.

“If I discover anything relevant to public interest,” she added, “I will publish it.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

He paused before continuing.

“If you hear of its founders — informally — you might advise them that we are not indifferent.”

“To what?”

“To the erosion of sovereign monetary authority.”

“Strong words.”

“They are accurate.”

Ava smiled faintly. “Perhaps Pegged is simply a mirror.”

“Mirrors can shatter.”

“So can institutions,” she said.

Another silence.

“Well,” she concluded lightly, “you’ve given me something to think about. It may indeed be an interesting phenomenon to investigate.”

“I’m sure you’ll approach it with rigor.”

“I always do.”

“Good afternoon, Ms. Lemaire.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Steenberg.”

The line went dead.

For several seconds she did not move.

The room was unchanged. Books, laptop, a half-finished coffee cooling beside her hand. Ordinary afternoon light on the wall.

Her hand trembled once before she stilled it.

He suspects.

Not proof. Not yet.

But he is mapping.

She stood and walked to the window. Down below, a cyclist swerved between cars. A dog barked. Someone laughed.

Somewhere in the Alps, a house of cedar and stone.

Alias.

If Steenberg had reached her, he was tracing proximity. Articles. Conferences. Shared panels. Old photographs.

She imagined headlines.

Journalist Linked to Unlicensed Monetary Protocol.
Regulatory Evasion Network Under Investigation.

Travel restrictions. Asset freezes. Reputational erasure.

And Alias — exposed not by code, but by association.

He had feared this.

Love makes you predictable.

She pressed her palm against the glass, feeling the cool surface steady her.

Do not call him.

Calling would create a pattern.

She returned to her desk and opened a blank document.

Title:

Pegged: Lottery as Monetary Infrastructure?

If the story were going to exist, she would shape it before others did.

But beneath the professional reflex was something colder:

They are coming.

Not for a bug. Not for a scam.

For the idea that money could operate without them.

She closed her eyes briefly, then began to type.