Amelia_BnB

Dusk Network did not start as a dream to impress retail traders or chase fast liquidity. It began in 2018 with a very different obsession: how financial markets actually work when regulators, institutions, and real capital are involved. As someone who trades daily and watches how narratives rise and collapse on the charts, I’ve learned that most blockchains fail not because of bad tech, but because they misunderstand incentives. Dusk’s design quietly acknowledges an uncomfortable truth most traders don’t like to admit: the biggest money in crypto does not want chaos, and it does not want full transparency either. It wants controlled privacy, selective disclosure, and systems that don’t break the moment regulators show up.

Right now, the market is obsessed with speed, memes, and short-term rotations. You can see it clearly on volume profiles and funding rates. Capital chases what moves fast and leaves behind what builds slow. Dusk lives almost entirely outside this cycle, and that’s exactly why it’s misunderstood. Its architecture is not designed to pump easily. It’s designed to survive. That choice affects everything: token behavior, on-chain activity, and even how traders emotionally react to it. When a chain is built for institutions, speculation becomes secondary to reliability, and that changes the rhythm of price action in ways most retail traders misread as “boring” or “dead.”

One overlooked mechanic in Dusk is how compliance reshapes user behavior. In most DeFi systems, anonymity encourages reckless leverage, wash trading, and temporary liquidity that disappears the moment incentives drop. On Dusk, privacy is paired with auditability. That single design decision filters participants. It discourages fast money that wants to hide entirely, and it attracts slower capital that wants privacy without legal risk. You won’t always see this immediately on price charts, but you see it in steadier wallet behavior, longer holding periods, and lower reflexive sell pressure during market-wide drawdowns. Traders who only watch candles miss this signal completely.

Token psychology around DUSK is also different. Many tokens are engineered to be constantly spent, farmed, or dumped. DUSK behaves more like infrastructure collateral than a casino chip. When traders realize a token’s primary demand doesn’t come from hype cycles but from system participation, their expectations shift. Volatility compresses. Breakouts take longer. False moves get punished. This frustrates short-term traders, but it creates a different kind of opportunity for those who understand accumulation phases. If you overlay on-chain staking data with price compression zones, you can often see that selling pressure dries up long before price reacts.

Another uncomfortable truth is that regulated finance doesn’t care about decentralization theater. Institutions care about risk containment. Dusk’s modular approach reflects that reality. Instead of forcing everything into a single rigid execution model, it allows financial logic, privacy layers, and compliance checks to coexist without stepping on each other. From a market perspective, this reduces protocol risk. Lower protocol risk means lower risk premium demanded by serious capital. Lower risk premium means slower upside, but also less catastrophic downside. That trade-off is invisible during bull market mania, but it becomes painfully obvious when liquidity disappears.

Look at how traders behave during stress events. On most chains, panic selling cascades because no one trusts the system when things go wrong. On Dusk, the system is designed for audit trails and controlled disclosure. That doesn’t eliminate fear, but it reduces the kind of blind exits driven by uncertainty. If you study order book behavior around major market dips, assets tied to real-world financial use cases tend to recover faster, even if they didn’t pump as hard before. Dusk fits that profile, even if it hasn’t fully priced it in yet.

The real edge here is understanding timing. Dusk is not built for narrative spikes. It’s built for regulatory convergence, and that convergence is happening slowly, unevenly, and often off-chain. Traders who wait for loud announcements will always be late. The signal is quieter: pilot programs, enterprise integrations, gradual increases in on-chain activity that don’t trend on social media. When those signals align with compressed volatility and declining sell-side volume, that’s when asymmetric setups form. Not explosive, but durable.

There’s also a psychological barrier most traders struggle with. We are trained to chase momentum, not patience. Dusk demands patience. It asks traders to think like capital allocators rather than gamblers. That alone keeps many people away, which ironically preserves the opportunity. Markets reward what is ignored, not what is celebrated. The longer Dusk remains misunderstood, the more likely it is that price lags fundamentals instead of leading them.

In the current market environment, where regulatory pressure is no longer theoretical, protocols that pretended rules didn’t matter are quietly adjusting or fading away. Dusk doesn’t need to pivot because it was built for this moment from the start. That doesn’t guarantee success, but it removes an entire category of existential risk. From a trader’s perspective, reducing unknowns is often more valuable than chasing upside. You can model risk. You can’t model legal shock.

If you step back from the noise and look at the market honestly, Dusk represents a bet on maturity. Not just market maturity, but psychological maturity among participants. It won’t reward impatience. It won’t validate hype-driven bias. But for traders who understand that real financial systems move slower than narratives, Dusk offers something rare in crypto: alignment between design, incentives, and reality. That alignment doesn’t scream on the chart. It whispers. And in this market, whispers are often where the real edge hides.

#dusk @Dusk $DUSK

Walrus Protocol doesn’t announce itself with fireworks, and that is exactly why most traders misunderstand it. I spend my days watching order books thin out, funding flip signs, and narratives rotate faster than liquidity can follow. In that environment, Walrus feels almost uncomfortable because it refuses to perform. It exists in the background, moving data instead of emotions, and that alone filters out a huge part of speculative capital. But when you actually sit with the protocol, watch how WAL behaves on-chain, and connect it to what the market is rewarding right now, a different picture forms. Walrus is not built to pump on attention. It is built to survive indifference, and survival is a rarer alpha than hype in this cycle.

Most traders look at storage protocols and stop at the word “infrastructure.” They assume price action will lag because storage feels slow, boring, and invisible. That assumption comes from years of trading tokens whose value depended on constant user interaction. Walrus flips that logic. Its design does not need users to click buttons every day. It needs data to stay put. Once data is stored, it becomes sticky. That stickiness changes how WAL circulates. Tokens don’t churn the way DeFi governance tokens do. They get locked into longer economic relationships, which means less reflexive selling when the chart goes sideways. You can actually see this in on-chain behavior when WAL volume compresses without collapsing, a pattern that usually shows up before traders start re-rating an asset as “held” instead of “traded.”

What most people miss is how erasure-coded blob storage quietly reshapes incentives. This is not just a technical choice. It creates a cost structure where no single node holds full responsibility, and no single failure creates panic. From a market psychology perspective, that matters. Traders sell hardest when they fear sudden failure. Walrus removes the drama from failure itself. When risk feels distributed and dull, selling pressure becomes slower, more rational, and less emotional. That is why WAL doesn’t spike and crash like narrative tokens. It grinds, consolidates, and frustrates impatient capital. I’ve learned to respect assets that frustrate people, because frustration usually means the design is doing its job.

There is also an uncomfortable truth here that doesn’t get talked about enough. Many storage tokens fail not because the tech is bad, but because demand is fake. They rely on subsidized usage or short-term incentives to simulate activity. Walrus doesn’t try to impress dashboards. It prices storage in a way that makes sense for people who actually want to keep data alive. That means adoption grows quietly. When you check usage metrics, you don’t see explosive spikes. You see steady accumulation. From a trading perspective, this is the kind of curve that rarely shows up in trending tabs but often shows up months later in relative strength comparisons, when everything else has round-tripped.

WAL’s behavior on Sui is another detail traders underestimate. Sui’s execution model allows Walrus to handle large data flows without clogging the system or competing directly with speculative DeFi traffic. That separation matters. When meme cycles heat up, infrastructure tokens on congested chains often suffer because fees spike and usage becomes erratic. Walrus stays insulated. That insulation shows up as smoother on-chain activity even during market stress. I pay attention to that because smoothness during chaos is usually what institutions look for first, even if they don’t say it out loud.

The market right now is obsessed with speed and novelty. Everyone wants the next thing that moves 30 percent in a day. Walrus does not care about that game. Its token behavior reflects its purpose. WAL reacts less to social sentiment and more to structural changes in usage. When storage demand increases, the effect is delayed but persistent. You won’t see a clean breakout candle driven by influencers. You’ll see compression, followed by a slow expansion that catches late traders off guard. If you overlay WAL’s chart with on-chain storage growth, the relationship becomes obvious, even if the market hasn’t fully priced it yet.

Another overlooked mechanic is who Walrus is actually built for. It is not retail-first. It is builder-first. That changes everything. Builders don’t rotate out of positions every two weeks. They commit, integrate, and move on to the next problem. That means WAL supply gets absorbed by participants who are not emotionally attached to short-term price. As a trader, that is exactly the kind of supply dynamic I want to see. It creates floors that don’t need defending on Twitter. You can often spot this by watching how WAL reacts to market-wide dips. Instead of cascading, it pauses. That pause is information.

There is also a psychological angle here that many traders ignore. People are tired. They are tired of being early, loud, and wrong. Walrus appeals to a quieter instinct forming in the market, the instinct to hold things that don’t require constant attention. That shift doesn’t show up in headlines, but it shows up in capital flows. WAL feels like something you buy, forget, and check back on later. Ironically, that makes it dangerous to short and boring to overtrade. Boring assets with real demand have a way of punishing both sides of impatience.

I won’t pretend Walrus is risk-free. Storage is competitive. Narratives can change. Attention can disappear. But the risk profile here is structural, not emotional. When WAL moves, it will likely move because something real changed, not because someone said the right words at the right time. That matters in a market where trust in narratives is decaying fast. Traders are becoming more skeptical, more data-driven, and more sensitive to empty volume. Walrus benefits from that shift because it never promised excitement in the first place.

If you study the market long enough, you learn that the best trades rarely feel exciting when you enter them. They feel quiet, slightly uncomfortable, and easy to ignore. Walrus fits that pattern too well to dismiss. It is not trying to be loved. It is trying to be used. And in a cycle where real usage is slowly becoming the only thing that survives, that may be the most bullish signal hiding in plainfield

#Walrus @Walrus 🦭/acc $WAL

Dusk is one of those projects you don’t really notice until you’ve been around long enough to see cycles repeat and narratives collapse. I’ve watched markets long enough to know that the loudest ideas usually peak first, and the ones that survive are often the ones traders ignore early because they feel boring, constrained, or uncomfortable. Dusk has always lived in that uncomfortable space. Born in 2018, when most of the industry was still intoxicated with speed, transparency, and ideological purity, Dusk was built around a less exciting but far more durable assumption: real finance is regulated, privacy is contextual, and neither of those facts are going away no matter how many whitepapers pretend otherwise.

From a trader’s seat, what stands out isn’t the branding or the promises, but the way the protocol’s design quietly shapes behavior on-chain. Dusk doesn’t reward manic speculation very well. There are no obvious reflexive loops designed to pump volume for its own sake. When I look at DUSK’s on-chain activity compared to trend-chasing Layer 1s, the difference is subtle but telling. Activity clusters around actual deployment cycles, validator participation, and ecosystem events rather than constant churn. That tells me something about the incentives baked into the system. This is not a chain optimized for constant dopamine hits. It’s optimized for repeatable, auditable financial actions that don’t want an audience.

The uncomfortable truth most traders avoid is that transparency is not always bullish. Radical transparency makes for great dashboards and Twitter threads, but it’s hostile to real capital. No serious fund, market maker, or institution wants its positions, strategies, or flows turned into public entertainment. Dusk’s core insight is that privacy and auditability are not opposites; they’re layers. The protocol assumes that transactions can be selectively private while still provable when needed. That assumption changes who is willing to use the chain and, more importantly, who is willing to stay. When I see slower but steadier wallet growth instead of explosive spikes, I read that as stickier participants, not weaker demand.

Token behavior reflects this philosophy in ways charts don’t always capture at first glance. DUSK doesn’t trade like a pure narrative asset. It doesn’t explode on hype and bleed out entirely when attention moves on. Instead, you see long compression phases, low volatility relative to other alts, and volume that wakes up around concrete developments rather than rumor cycles. Traders often misread that as weakness. I see it as a sign that supply is held by participants who understand what they’re holding. When tokens are mostly owned by people waiting for a use case rather than an exit, price action looks boring until it suddenly isn’t.

What’s happening in the market right now makes this more relevant than it’s been in years. Regulators are no longer a theoretical future risk; they are active, inconsistent, and increasingly aggressive. Entire DeFi sectors are being re-priced not because the tech failed, but because the legal assumptions were wrong. Dusk was built with the assumption that compliance friction is permanent. That doesn’t make it sexy, but it makes it resilient. When I compare on-chain liquidity migration during regulatory scares, I notice that capital doesn’t flee equally from all chains. It avoids platforms that feel legally fragile. Dusk doesn’t promise immunity, but it offers a framework where compliance doesn’t require sacrificing privacy entirely, and that matters more now than it did in the last bull cycle.

There’s also a psychological layer here traders rarely admit. Markets reward stories, but portfolios survive systems. Dusk doesn’t sell a revolution; it sells continuity. That attracts a different class of builder and a different rhythm of capital. You can see it in validator behavior, in governance participation that isn’t dominated by whales flipping votes, and in the slow expansion of real-world asset experimentation. None of this creates instant candles, but it creates an underlying bid that doesn’t disappear the moment sentiment turns risk-off.

The modular architecture is often described in technical terms, but the practical effect is simpler: Dusk can adapt without breaking trust. From a market perspective, adaptability reduces existential risk. Chains that hard-code assumptions about users, regulation, or financial behavior tend to fracture when reality changes. Dusk’s design allows parts of the system to evolve without rewriting the social contract. That’s boring engineering, but boring engineering is what survives long enough to matter. If you track developer commits and ecosystem contracts rather than just TVL screenshots, you see continuity instead of reinvention theater.

What makes Dusk interesting right now isn’t that it’s suddenly outperforming everything else. It’s that it’s still here, still coherent, and increasingly aligned with where capital actually wants to go rather than where it likes to pretend it’s going. In a market obsessed with optionality, Dusk offers constraints, and constraints create trust. Trust creates repeat users. Repeat users create predictable demand. Predictable demand is what eventually shows up on price charts after everyone stops paying attention.

I don’t look at Dusk as a moonshot. I look at it as a quiet accumulation of correct assumptions. In a space where most protocols are optimized for attention, Dusk is optimized for survival. That doesn’t make for viral posts, but it does make for a chart that behaves differently when the cycle turns. And for traders who’ve been through enough cycles to value durability over noise, that difference is the whole point.

#dusk @Dusk $DUSK

Walrus (WAL) is not the kind of project that screams for attention, and that’s exactly why it’s interesting if you spend your days watching order books, on-chain flows, and the subtle ways narratives quietly harden into fundamentals. At first glance, Walrus looks like yet another infrastructure token wrapped in the familiar language of privacy, decentralization, and efficiency. But when you sit with it longerwhen you watch how WAL behaves during risk-off weeks, how activity clusters around specific network events, how volume responds not to hype but to usageyou realize this protocol is exposing something most traders overlook: storage itself is becoming a financial primitive, and the market is still pricing it like a feature, not a behavior.

In the current market, traders are exhausted by promises. Everyone has learned to discount roadmaps and whitepapers. What moves capital now is frictionor the lack of it. Walrus operates in a part of crypto that creates friction in very uncomfortable ways. Storing large amounts of data on-chain is expensive, boring, and unforgiving. Most chains avoid it or outsource it quietly. Walrus leans directly into that discomfort by building a system where data isn’t just stored, it’s fragmented, scattered, and economically incentivized to stay alive. That design choice matters because it changes who shows up. You don’t attract tourists to a protocol like this; you attract users with something to lose.

From a trader’s perspective, WAL doesn’t behave like a pure speculative asset. It doesn’t spike cleanly on influencer cycles or fade neatly after announcements. Instead, its volume often creeps in sideways, clustering around periods where storage demand spikes elsewhere in the ecosystemNFT mints that actually involve files, AI datasets moving between hands, enterprise pilots that don’t bother tweeting about themselves. On-chain, you’d notice WAL activity rising without the usual social noise, which is usually a sign of non-retail participation. That’s uncomfortable for momentum traders, but it’s exactly what long-term capital looks like when it enters quietly.

The overlooked mechanic here is erasure coding combined with blob storage. Most people read that and move on. But economically, this means Walrus is designed to survive partial failure without panic. Data doesn’t disappear when a node drops. That resilience changes risk assumptions. For enterprises or serious builders, the cost of downtime is often higher than the cost of storage itself. Walrus prices into that reality. And when usage is driven by risk mitigation rather than upside speculation, token demand behaves differently. WAL isn’t just paying for space; it’s underwriting continuity. That’s a subtle but powerful shift.

You can see this reflected in how WAL holders behave during market drawdowns. While high-beta tokens bleed quickly as traders de-risk, WAL tends to see reduced volatility rather than sharp exits. Not because it’s immune, but because a portion of its demand is sticky. Storage commitments don’t unwind as easily as leveraged positions. This is where trader psychology gets exposed. People assume everything in crypto is liquid sentiment, but infrastructure tokens tied to real operational needs don’t obey the same emotional cycles. The charts tell a quieter story: fewer violent wicks, more compression, more patience.

Operating on Sui also matters more than most narratives admit. Sui’s design favors parallel execution and scalability, which directly impacts how Walrus can price storage without punishing users during congestion. For traders, this shows up indirectly. You don’t see WAL pumping on Sui hype days alone, but you do see correlation between smoother network performance and sustained on-chain activity. That’s the kind of relationship you only notice if you’re watching metrics instead of headlines. It suggests that Walrus is less dependent on external narratives and more tied to the health of its underlying execution layer.

There’s also an uncomfortable truth here about privacy. Privacy doesn’t trend well until it’s needed. Most users don’t care until something breaks, leaks, or gets censored. Walrus positions itself exactly in that lag. It’s not trying to convince users to value privacy ideologically; it’s making privacy the default outcome of how data is handled. From a market standpoint, that means adoption arrives late but sticks longer. Traders often misprice this because they expect immediate narrative traction. But when privacy demand finally arrives, it arrives suddenly and without warning, usually triggered by external shocks. Tokens positioned there don’t give many second chances to enter cleanly.

Governance and staking around WAL also reflect a more mature incentive alignment than people give credit for. Rewards are structured to favor participants who contribute to network stability, not just token velocity. That reduces reflexive sell pressure. When you examine staking behavior on-chain, you’d likely see longer lock durations and lower churn compared to purely yield-driven protocols. That’s not exciting, but it’s stabilizing. And stabilization is underrated in a market addicted to chaos.

As a trader, what stands out most is how Walrus forces you to reframe value. This isn’t a token that sells dreams; it sells reliability. Its success won’t be loud. It will show up in boring metrics: consistent storage growth, steady fee generation, gradual decentralization of providers. Those metrics don’t trend on social media, but they do anchor price floors over time. WAL challenges the assumption that all crypto assets must perform theatrically to be valuable. Sometimes, the most important thing a token can do is not collapse when nobody is watching.

Right now, the broader market is oscillating between short bursts of risk appetite and long stretches of caution. In that environment, assets tied to actual utilitynot narrative velocitybegin to separate quietly. Walrus sits in that category. It doesn’t care if you’re bullish or bearish this week. It cares whether data needs to exist tomorrow without asking permission. For traders who live inside charts all day, that’s a humbling reminder: not every edge comes from timing. Some come from understanding which parts of the system keep working when sentiment disappears.

Walrus (WAL) ultimately exposes a truth many traders resist. Infrastructure that solves unglamorous problems tends to outlast infrastructure built to excite. The market hasn’t fully priced that yet, because boredom doesn’t trend. But if you’re watching closelywatching on-chain usage instead of price candlesyou can see the outline of a different valuation model forming. One where storage, privacy, and resilience are no longer background features, but quiet drivers of economic gravity. And once gravity sets in, it doesn’t need hype to do its work.

#Walrus @Walrus 🦭/acc $WAL

Dusk didn’t arrive to impress retail traders scrolling for the next dopamine hit, and you can feel that immediately when you study it the way an active trader doesthrough behavior, not slogans. I’ve spent years watching Layer 1s chase liquidity with incentives that look great on launch charts and rot six months later, and Dusk moves in the opposite direction. Its design choices quietly assume a future where capital actually cares about accountability, where privacy isn’t a marketing flex but a legal requirement, and where on-chain activity has to survive scrutiny rather than avoid it. That single assumption changes everythingfrom who uses the chain, to how the token circulates, to why price discovery on DUSK behaves differently than most traders expect.

Right now, the broader market is in a strange phase. Speculation is alive, but it’s selective. Liquidity is not chasing every narrative; it’s parking, waiting, watching. When I look at Dusk through that lens, what stands out isn’t explosive volume or flashy spikesit’s restraint. The chain is built for regulated finance, and that forces a discipline into its on-chain footprint. You don’t see chaotic contract spam or incentive-driven noise because the system is not optimized for it. That absence is the first uncomfortable truth for many traders: less noise doesn’t mean less value. In fact, it often means the opposite, especially when the target users are institutions that move slowly, test quietly, and deploy capital in chunks that don’t announce themselves on day one.

One of the most overlooked mechanics in Dusk is how privacy and auditability coexist without canceling each other out. Most chains pick a side and pretend the trade-off doesn’t exist. Dusk doesn’t. It accepts that regulated money needs selective visibility, not total darkness. From a trader’s perspective, this matters because it shapes behavior. When participants know they can’t game opacity forever, incentives shift. You see fewer wash-like patterns, fewer artificial spikes in on-chain metrics, and more deliberate interaction. If you overlay Dusk’s on-chain activity with time-based volume analysis, the structure looks almost boringbut boring is often where durable value hides.

Token behavior reinforces this. DUSK doesn’t behave like a token designed to be constantly recycled through hype loops. Its role inside the system ties directly into security, participation, and long-term alignment rather than short-term velocity. That lowers reflexive churn. For traders used to momentum-driven ecosystems, this can be misread as weakness. I’ve seen this mistake play out again and again: assets that don’t “perform” loudly get ignored until they suddenly matter. When you study where staking supply stabilizes, how validator incentives resist dilution, and how circulating supply doesn’t explode just to manufacture activity, you start to understand why DUSK’s chart often compresses instead of trending wildly. Compression is not absence of interest; it’s unresolved intent.

There’s also a psychological layer most market participants miss. Dusk doesn’t flatter retail instincts. It doesn’t promise freedom from rules; it promises survival within them. That’s not exciting in bull-market Twitter terms, but it’s incredibly relevant in real financial environments. Institutions don’t need chains that help them evade oversightthey need systems that let them comply without giving up competitive advantage. This is where Dusk’s architecture quietly aligns incentives between builders, validators, and capital providers. Everyone involved is optimizing for continuity, not extraction. From a trading standpoint, that alignment reduces tail risk. You may not get instant upside, but you also don’t wake up to existential threats triggered by regulatory shifts.

If you look at market structure right now, especially across Layer 1s claiming enterprise relevance, many are still priced on expectation rather than usage. Dusk is different in a subtle way. Its valuation tension comes from patience. Traders waiting for obvious catalysts often miss that the real signals appear in developer behavior, pilot programs, and low-frequency on-chain events that don’t trend on dashboards. When I see steady validator participation without aggressive yield bribes, or consistent contract interaction that doesn’t correlate with token pumps, that tells me the network is being tested seriously, not farmed opportunistically.

Another uncomfortable truth: regulated finance doesn’t scale like DeFi summer narratives. It ramps slowly, and it punishes fragility. Dusk’s modular approach reflects that reality. Instead of pushing everything on-chain all at once, it allows financial primitives to exist with boundaries. For traders, this means adoption won’t show up as a sudden user explosion. It shows up as densityfewer users doing more meaningful things. If you track value per transaction rather than raw transaction count, the picture becomes clearer. The chain is being shaped for high-stakes use cases where failure is expensive and reputation matters.

From a chartist’s perspective, this creates a strange dynamic. DUSK often looks like it’s lagging narratives, yet it refuses to collapse the way purely speculative assets do. Support zones tend to hold not because of retail loyalty, but because supply is not constantly leaking from misaligned participants. When price moves, it often does so without the usual frenzy, which tells you the marginal buyer is not chasing but allocating. That kind of buyer doesn’t tweet; they wait.

What makes Dusk especially relevant now is timing. Global markets are inching toward clearer frameworks, not looser ones. Whether traders like it or not, regulated capital is not going awayit’s reorganizing. Chains that treat regulation as an enemy will always live one headline away from irrelevance. Dusk treats it as a design constraint, and constraints are where real engineering shows. That philosophy doesn’t just affect compliance; it shapes liquidity behavior, governance decisions, and how trust compounds over time.

I often think about how traders misprice patience. We’re trained to reward immediacy: fast blocks, fast gains, fast exits. Dusk asks a different questionwhat happens when finance actually shows up on-chain with rules intact? The answer isn’t fireworks. It’s slow, measurable gravity. You see it when ecosystems don’t cannibalize themselves. You see it when token incentives don’t collapse under their own weight. You see it when builders stick around after incentives dry up.

Dusk is not a bet on excitement. It’s a bet on inevitability. That doesn’t make it easy to trade, but it makes it intellectually honest. As someone who watches markets every day, I don’t need another chain telling me it’s the future. I need to know which systems are being built for the world as it is, not as crypto Twitter wishes it were. Dusk quietly answers that question, and the marketslowly, reluctantlywill catch up.

#Dusk @Dusk $DUSK