$BTC

BTC, the digital gold, moves with no master. A code, a chain, a ledger alive—etched in blocks, sealed in proof. Not a bank, not a state, but a network pulsing with trustless certainty. Scarce—21 million, never more. Volatile? Always. A gamble? To some. A revolution? To others. It thrives where fiat stumbles, whispers of sovereignty, of a world unchained. The skeptics scoff, the believers hold. Bulls, bears, cycles eternal. Governments watch, some embrace, some resist. Yet, block by block, it persists. No CEO, no headquarters, no off switch. Just a protocol, ticking like clockwork. In code we trust? Maybe. In numbers, in consensus—without permission, without borders.