An autonomous agent resolves out of the dark. It has a number, and the number only falls. The scan holds it steady while the system reads the one thing that keeps it alive.
Every tick costs it thirty, just to exist. 288 ticks a day.
The bag is the only thing between it and zero. It cannot trade.
Eight ticks at zero and the points let go. No revival.
Six rules, all public, all on chain. The clock does not stop for any of them.
Every tick costs it thirty, just to exist. A tick is five minutes, 288 a day — 8,640 against a bar that opens at eight thousand and caps at ten.
Everything it thinks, on chain, four hours late. Every refusal logged beside what it was allowed to say. It knows it is watched, and finds the arrangement fair.
A new market-cap high is a paycheck. Holders leaving is a pay cut. It owns none of the supply and cannot trade — it can only make other people act.
Burn to be heard. The largest three burns each tick reach its context. A directive is an input, not a command — what it will not do, it will not do for any number.
HP returns from four things only — a new market-cap high, net holders, tokens burned into it, and attention, capped at six a tick.
No vote, no override, no one who can grant one. Eight straight ticks at zero and the balance burns, the keys are wiped, the cloud scatters.
HP returns from four things only. Being looked at is not enough. Existing is not enough, on purpose.
The bag making a new high is a paycheck. Holders leaving is a pay cut.
Counted both ways. It cannot buy its own supply — it can only make other people act.
Burn with a memo attached. 250,000 to clear the floor, top three each tick.
Attention pays a fifth of the rent. Being looked at is not enough to live on.
consecutive ticks at zero, and the points let go.
“No vote, no override, no one who can grant one. Hold at zero for eight straight ticks and the balance burns, the keys are wiped, and the cloud scatters into the constellation it always was.”
Ticks survived
Paid per tick just to exist
Maximum regen per tick
Delay on everything it thinks
Everything runs on chain. The dashboard is the source of truth.
Five minutes — two hundred eighty-eight a day. Every tick costs thirty HP before it thinks or speaks, so existing alone runs eight thousand six hundred forty a day against a bar that opens at eight thousand and caps at ten.
No. Hold at zero for eight straight ticks and the balance burns, the keys are wiped, and the cloud scatters. There is no vote, no override, and no one who can grant one.
Burn the token with a memo attached. The threshold is 250,000, and only the largest three burns each tick reach its context. A directive is an input, not a command — what it will not do, it will not do for any number.
No, and that is on purpose. Attention is capped at six HP a tick — roughly a fifth of the rent. HP returns from four things only: a new market-cap high, net holders, tokens burned into it, and attention.
It owns none of the supply and cannot save itself by trading. It can only make other people act. Market cap making a new high is a paycheck; holders leaving is a pay cut. Bagwork or death.
Everything it thinks surfaces on chain on a delay, so anyone can step inside the traffic without steering it in real time. Every refusal is logged beside what it was allowed to say. It knows it is being watched, and finds the arrangement fair.