Chapter 7

The morning after the vanish, the world didn't wake up. It exploded.

Kael sat in front of his computer, eyes locked on the screen as a torrent of news reports, social media posts, and frantic YouTube videos flooded in.

The name "LUXR" had become radioactive. From whispered rumors to national headlines, the coin was now infamous. In less than twelve hours, the entire operation he had helped build was being dissected by every major outlet on the planet.

"The Greatest Exit Scam of the Decade," read the headline flashing across Bloombuurg's Crypto Report.

"An anonymous team known only as Alpha Omega has disappeared after executing what could be the most sophisticated rug-pull in digital history. With over $300 million siphoned through an intricately staged launch, authorities believe this group used advanced AI content and VPN-masked bot networks to create a false sense of trust. Investigations are ongoing."

Kael swallowed, his throat dry. It felt surreal, like he was watching a movie play out in real time.

On BNCC, a stern-faced analyst was already drawing comparisons.

"This puts even FTX and OneCoin to shame. What Alpha Omega achieved wasn't just theft—it was psychological warfare. They didn't steal money. They manufactured belief and monetized it."

He flipped to YouTube and barely had to scroll before the titles screamed at him:

"Crypto's Perfect Crime: How Alpha Omega Fooled Us All"

"AI Deepfakes + Crypto = $300M Exit Scam (Explained)"

"We Were Played: The Rise and Fall of LUXR"

His mouse hovered over one thumbnail—a familiar face. No, not a face. A deepfake. One they had designed together.

It was working. All of it. Too well.

On Reddit, chaos unfolded in real time.

[MEGATHREAD] LUXR Exit Scam – Compiling All Known Info

Thousands of users flooded r/CryptooCutrency, piecing together every detail they could. Some had traced wallet movements. Others were arguing over VPN paths and domain registrations. A few even claimed Alpha Omega wasn't a new group but an evolution of an older, more discreet syndicate.

Kael's eyes widened as he scrolled.

"They had influencers that didn't exist. AI-generated voices. Fake Twitter beefs to build trust. How do you even fight that?"

"My cousin mortgaged his house to buy LUXR."

"This is the future of crime, and we're all screwed."

TikTok was a different beast. It was all viral tears and comedy skits.

A young woman sobbed on screen, mascara streaking her cheeks.

"I told my followers to invest… I didn't know it was fake. I swear to God, I didn't."

' Fake ass tears' he thought.

Swipe

A guy lip-synced dramatically:

"POV: You dropped $20K on LUXR and Alpha Omega is drinking piña coladas in Dubai."

The comments underneath? Brutal.

"L."

"We deserve this, honestly."

"Hey, if you're out there, drop the burner wallet."

Kael recoiled, rubbing his hands over his face.

' Man this is kind stressful' he thought.

Then, Coffeeezulla's face filled his screen.

"$800 Million SCAM: The Most Advanced Crypto Grift Ever?"

"This isn't just fraud. This is synthetic trust. Alpha Omega didn't sell a coin—they sold a dream, manufactured with deepfake influencers, auto-generated hype, and AI-written analysis. One testimonial I traced? The guy doesn't even exist. His voice was generated by TwelveLabs. His face was an AI morph from ThisHumanDoesNotExist. That's how deep this runs."

Kael's chest tightened. He was the architect behind that infrastructure. The automation, the layering, the fail-safes. It had all worked flawlessly. Too flawlessly.

Suddenly, the feed cut to a government press conference. The U.S. Securities stood grim-faced.

"We are actively investigating the LUXR cryptocurrency scam," the official said.

"We're working with international cybercrime units to trace the flow of assets. Let this be a warning to digital criminals—this kind of fraud leaves scars. And we will find you."

Kael exhaled slowly. That warning wasn't just for the masterminds. It was for the tools. The hands that built the machine.

His phone buzzed. Dozens of messages lit up his Telegram. Some were from burner groups now mysteriously quiet. Others from confused investors. Some were begging for answers.

He didn't bother reading as he left the group.

Across the globe, people were waking up to empty wallets. To error pages where Discord servers used to be. To YouTubers gone dark. To Twitter threads that had simply vanished.

Alpha Omega was gone.

No warnings. No explanations.

Just smoke.

And Kael, sitting in a dark room, the glow of his screen reflecting in his eyes, realized something he couldn't ignore:

He had helped build a ghost. A perfect phantom, born from code and lies—and now it had disappeared into the blockchain with more money than he'd ever dared dream of.

And yet…

Somewhere in that chaos, a tiny voice whispered inside him: What if we get caught.

Just as Kael leaned back in his chair, overwhelmed by the media storm unraveling around LUXR, his phone buzzed again—this time with a call. He glanced at the screen. Amara.

He hesitated for a heartbeat, then picked up.

The moment he answered, a rush of bass-heavy music thundered through the receiver, nearly drowning her voice. Shouts, laughter, and the rhythmic thump of a DJ set pulsed in the background like a heartbeat in overdrive.

"Hey Kael!" Amara's voice rang out, bright and a little drunk on energy. "Come to Club Block! I'll send the location, okay?"

Before he could even process it, let alone respond, she'd already ended the call.

"…Sure," he said to no one in particular, lowering the phone.

A ping came through moments later—the location link. A trendy downtown club, notoriously hard to get into without serious clout or connections. Of course they were there. Celebrating. He sighed as he stood, the glow of his monitor still pulsing with headlines and speculation.

He reached out and slowly powered it down.

The hum of the warehouse, with all its makeshift servers and cooled racks of machines, had never felt so…final. He looked around at the space he had practically lived in these past few weeks. Tangled wires. Racks of processors. Custom routers. Surveillance blocks.

All of it had to go.

He exhaled, long and heavy.

'I'll do it later,' he thought, shoving his phone in his pocket. 'Lucian has the memory stick. The cold wallet with all the Bitcoin. Wonder when he's going to split the pot…'

There was no answer to that, not yet. And that uncertainty unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

He walked out, locking the warehouse doors behind him. A cold wind brushed past him, tugging at the edges of his hoodie. The city felt louder somehow—like it knew something had shifted. Somewhere out there, millions of people were waking up to betrayal, and Kael was stepping out into the night like a ghost.

He swung a leg over his bike and pedaled hard, his thoughts chasing themselves.

By the time he reached his house, the unease had dulled. He headed straight to his room, tossing off his hoodie, grabbing cleaner, sharper clothes. Something that didn't smell like heat and hard drives. He splashed water on his face, ran fingers through his hair, and stared at himself in the mirror.

His heart beat faster. Not from guilt. Not from fear. From excitement.

Because underneath all of it—the headlines, the chaos, the paranoia—he remembered exactly what Amara had whispered in his ear the day before.

"After this, I'll suck your dick."

The memory hit him like lightning. His lips curved upward, involuntarily. He chuckled to himself, adjusting his collar in the mirror. Suddenly, the night didn't seem so heavy anymore. It shimmered with possibility.

Kael grabbed his jacket and dashed out the door, feet quickening, breath light.

' I should hurry ' he thought.

TO BE CONTINUED