Bliffy’s eyes flicker open.

His head display glitches, his systems reboot, and his internal logs are corrupted—which is a fancy way of saying he has no fcuking idea where he is.

He’s standing in a white, endless room lined with holographic screens.
And they are all screaming at him.

THIS TOKEN IS GOING 1000X, DO NOT MISS OUT!

IF YOU DON’T BUY IN THE NEXT 5 SECONDS, YOU’RE A LOSER.

PEPECOIN 7.3 JUST DROPPED. THIS IS NOT FINANCIAL ADVICE BUT I SOLD MY HOUSE FOR THIS.

Bliffy winces. His brain isn’t fully online yet, but he’s already deeply unhappy.

A big LED sign blinks above his head.

🚨 LIFE SENTENCE 🚨

Bliffy blinks back…Oaky, waht the atucal fcuk.

A door hisses open, and a bored-looking jailer in a cheap neon uniform shuffles in, holding a clipboard.
Without even looking up, the jailer mutters,Alright, you’re free to go.

Bliffy staresWait, waht?

The jailer gestures toward the now-unlocked door.Your sentence is over.

Bliffy points at the massive, glowing LIFE SENTENCE sign.That says life sentence.

The jailer finally looks up, blinking like this is the dumbest conversation of his career.Yeah. And it’s over.

Bliffy pinches the bridge of his “nose.”Do you understand what the word life means?

The jailer shrugs.Sure. Around here, life expectancy is about three hours.

Bliffy blinks.That... sounds medically concerning.

The jailer flips through his clipboard.Nah, market average.

Bliffy just stares at him, then at the flashing screens, then at the open door....Fantastic. Love this place

Seconds later, Bliffy stumbles out into the chaos of Pumpopolis, where holographic billboards SCREAM AT HIM from all directions.

Too bright. Too loud. Too fast.

And… something is wrong.

He feels empty.

Then it hits him.

He doesn’t remember who he is.

His tools? Gone.

His purpose? Unknown.

Bliffy grits his teeth.

He needs to remember.