THE GLITCH TRADER

She doesn’t predict the chain. She reads it — the way a shaman reads bones or a futurist reads signal noise. Where others see volatility, she sees revelation. Where others see glitches, she sees messages. She is the crypto-seer who interprets: the sudden spike the mempool tremor the dip disguised as a whisper the rug encoded inside a chart the new meta before anyone else notices its pulse Her vision is the yellow horizontal beam across her eyes — a golden glitch halo slicing reality open. Her lips are the colour of warnings. Her silhouette is constructed from broken signals. Her entire body is a decoder. She is the one who knows when to mint, when to burn, when to vanish. And her prophecies are never wrong — only misunderstood.