The takedowns hit fast.
Midnight raids. Sealed indictments. Half the old heads on the dark forums went silent—some vanished mid-thread, others never even got to log off. The feeds were full of speculation, but deep down, everyone knew.
Someone sold them out.
And everyone also knew who filled the vacuum.
Me.And NullSyntax.
The new kings of the underweb.The ghosts who pulled the strings.The names that made vendors stutter and buyers throw extra on top just to stay in our good books.
And for a while, it was fun.
Respect. Fear. Influence.We didn't have to card anymore. People brought us their best tools, bots, stolen data, whole blueprints to operations—all in exchange for access, reputation, protection.
I sat at the top.And I hated it.
Because no one tells you this part: power gets boring.
There's no thrill when you've already won.No rush when every job feels automated.And no friends when everyone around you just wants a piece.
So I started wandering.
Looking for something bigger. Riskier. Something that would either level me up—or finally end me.
I stopped logging into the forums. Stopped checking drop sites. Started digging into something else—something deeper.
Not just stealing money.
Stealing systems.
Not just beating the game.
Breaking it.
Something that could make me.
Or break me beyond repair.