When the narrative in the crypto world begins to collapse

When the myth of "hidden black gold" is peeled away layer by layer
Prices are no longer just prices
But patches of snowflakes losing their weight
Quietly, continuously, irreversibly falling

At this moment, you'll realize
The market doesn't need panic
Panic only belongs to those still believing the old stories

The real decline
Is never caused by bad news
But by the end of the narrative's lifespan

Leroy said
The market doesn't reward diligence
It only rewards those who stand in the right position

As the hall gradually empties
As trading volume dries up
As the community is left only with mockery and silence
That is not the end
But the embryonic stage of the next narrative

Smart money never enters amid cheers
They collect chips in the darkness, where no one pays attention
Like seeds buried in winter
Patient, silent, and without explanation

And when the story is rebranded
When consensus is reignited
When the slogan "This time is different" echoes through the hall
What you should do
Is not be moved
But exit the scene

Remember this phrase
Buy when no one is paying attention, sell when the crowd is roaring

This is the cruelty of speculation
And the only discipline for survivors