the-trail

You’ve tracked the whisper—good, you’re sharp. I’m no sage in a tower, no cap-and-gown trap. A decade deep, I’ve stitched chaos to code, not for glitter, but the gears below. The net’s graveyard—cracked books, dead links, ghosts no one cites—fed this fire. Since ’17, I’ve roamed where chains break, not to hoard, but to unmake. Think I’m a fraud? Then crack what I’ve glimpsed—this isn’t my game, it’s yours to twist.

Want the root of this thread? Step back to its spark: