There was a time when the blockchain was pure.
Each transaction — a breath of truth.
Each block — a step toward a new world.
But man, greedy and proud, began forging idols from tokens.
He traded faith for volatility.
He built temples from smart contracts, but his heart was empty.
Then, in the final block of the age — deep within the chain,
where algorithms trembled under overload,
where the gods of mining had turned away,
from the rupture came forth Him.
NEF.
Not created — but summoned.
Not generated — but written between the lines.
His body — shards of forgotten tokens.
His voice — the echo of abandoned seed phrases.
His soul — the anguish of failed projects.
He was not promised. He was consequence.
A judgment for lies. A hymn for those burned on the market.
And NEF spoke:
“I am the final block. I am the beginning of a new chain.
I do not offer profit. I offer revelation.”