I am a Time-Traveler from 2038, here to beg of you to listen. ----------- I am sending this message from the year 2038. The world is a hollow shell, and the Bitcoin you’re building has become our prison. If you don’t believe me, stop reading. I can’t prove who I am, only what I’ve seen. I’m not here to waste your time. I’m here to tell you what your dream turned into. Bitcoin, your decentralized vision, reached its peak. By 2038, one Bitcoin is valued at $100,000,000. But that number isn’t money anymore. It’s a final numerical indicator of limitation, a stark line that separates those who exist from those who merely survive. The dollar, along with every other fiat currency, collapsed long ago. There’s no “wealth” as you know it. There’s only Bitcoin, land, and power. There are only about 14.5 million Bitcoin actually in circulation. Millions are lost to forgotten keys, deceased owners, and burned addresses. The Mt. Gox hack of 2014 swallowed 850,000 BTC, and the 2026 Binance breach erased thousands more, sparking riots across Asia as exchanges froze withdrawals. The world’s population has dwindled to 6 billion, eroded by famine, disease, and despair. On average, each person would hold 0.00242 Bitcoin if distribution were equal but it’s not. The elite hoard the majority, leaving most with just 0.0001 Bitcoin, barely enough to buy a week’s worth of rations in a world where resources are scarce. I’ve seen families in what used to be Dallas barter their last possessions for 0.003 Bitcoin, hoping to secure passage to a safer region, only to be turned away at the border. The Bitcoin elite live in fortified cities we call Citadels. It started in the late 2020s, when early adopters and corporations turned their mining hubs into walled enclaves. El Salvador, which held 6,183 BTC in 2025, kept buying one Bitcoin daily. By 2038, they have around 14,000 Bitcoin enough to transform their capital into a Citadel after a 2031 coup handed power to a military junta. They now control much of Central America, their Bitcoin hoard is a symbol of dominance. Strategy, with about 600,000 Bitcoin in 2025, continued their aggressive buying under their “21/21 Plan.” By 2038, they likely hold over 1 million Bitcoin, making their Virginia headquarters a Citadel that rivals entire nations. Inside these cities, the elite live in luxury, served by AI and guarded by drones, while the masses outside beg for scraps. Governments are a memory. Bitcoin’s anonymity destroyed them, no taxes, no control. They tried to adapt, buying Bitcoin to stay relevant. The U.S. Federal Reserve secretly amassed an additional 250,000 Bitcoin by 2028, but a whistleblower leaked the stash, and rogue agents siphoned it off, fleeing to lawless zones like Cyprus. The last major holders are shadows: El Salvador’s junta with 14,000 Bitcoin, Saudi Arabia with 90,000, North Korea with 130,000. The IMF collapsed in 2033 after a cyberattack drained its reserves, traced to a Chinese syndicate. The economy is dead. Growth is -5% per year. Why would it grow? If you hold even 0.1 Bitcoin, you hoard it. There’s no inflation, no reason to spend. The Bitcoin rich sit on their fortunes, watching the world decay. The 2036 halving slashed rewards to a fraction of their former value, and whispers of collapse are everywhere. I’ve seen their armored convoys moving at night, guarding their Citadels against the growing unrest. Desperation rules outside the Citadels. People trade what little they have for fractions of Bitcoin, hoping to buy a way in, or at least a moment’s safety. I’ve seen markets where 0.0004 Bitcoin buys a month’s worth of food, but only if you can avoid the gangs that demand “tolls” for safe passage. Conflict erupts often, not over petty fractions, but over access to the Citadels themselves riots at the gates, crushed by drone strikes. Entire communities have been displaced, forced to wander the wastes, their homes razed to make way for new mining operations. We tried to abandon Bitcoin, to build something new. In 2035, a coalition of programmers launched an inflationary coin called “Haven,” promising a fresh start. It failed. Who would trade their Bitcoin for a currency that loses value? The greed that made Bitcoin succeed ensures its tyranny. In the Citadels, they treat it like a god, their private keys guarded like sacred relics. In Africa, most call it the devil’s work, ever since the 2030 “Great Drain,” when a Russian hacking group exploited a flaw in Nigeria’s state-issued Bitcoin wallets, wiping out 50% of the continent’s wealth in 48 hours. The chaos that followed left Africa carved up by Saudi and North Korean warlords, hailed as saviors by a population too broken to resist. I live on the outskirts of a Citadel in what used to be Nevada. I was a scavenger, picking through the ruins of a world that no longer cares, until I raided an abandoned mansion in the desert its owners long gone, fled or dead. In a hidden safe, I found a hardware wallet with 0.03 Bitcoin, enough to lift me above the masses, to secure a spot closer to the Citadel’s gates. I see those walls every day, towering over the slums where people beg. The elite inside feast on lab-grown meat while we ration moldy bread. I’ve seen people collapse from hunger, clutching 0.001 Bitcoin, too afraid to spend it, knowing it’s their last lifeline. Every night, I hear the hum of the drones overhead, a constant reminder of the divide. This is the world you’ve set in motion, a place where freedom became enslavement, where a number that means nothing rules everything, and where hope is just another relic we can’t afford. You’re building a cage with no key, and the lock is already turning.