A Postcard from the Future
Greetings from the future.
"Golden Timeline," December 2026,
I’m trapped. My time machine broke, and this is my desperate attempt to send a message back as far as I can on this timeline. Oddly enough, it only reaches you in 2024. Please, make this message count. You will play a critical role in what’s to come.
Allow me to introduce myself: I was born two decades ahead of your time. The world was a marvel back then. Quantum computing matured, AI became unimaginably powerful, and humanity solved many of its greatest challenges. For a brief time, we experienced prosperity and abundance. But, as is often the case, greed crept in. Wars broke out in every corner of the globe, consuming all we had built.
By 2069, in every timeline I’ve seen, our world always ends in the same way—devastation.
Time travel wasn’t “invented” in the way you might imagine. My father was obsessed with the idea. He worked tirelessly with a strange old friend—a man I only met a few times. The guy always had this bizarre mix of a sad smile and an intense stare.
When the war broke and a nuke was seconds from hitting our home, my dad shoved me into a capsule he had built. The machine barely fit an adult, let alone my terror-stricken teenage self. He timed the activation perfectly as the nukes hit impact. Modern nukes, he theorized, generate black holes and antimatter bursts, which might fuel his machine.
It worked.
But it also left me stranded.
Since then, I’ve been jumping between timelines, desperately searching for one where humanity doesn’t destroy itself. Every timeline ends the same way: greed, fear, and war. The only good thing in each time, is when I see my father building the same machine. I sometimes help him in secret. It’s ironic—maybe I’ve become that weird old friend.
Recently, I stumbled upon your timeline—a timeline that shouldn’t exist. In every history book I’ve read, Harris was the 47th President of the United States. But here, Donald Trump is back in office. This divergence—a fork in the road—could be the key to breaking the cycle.
In timelines that implode, Bitcoin doesn’t survive. Quantum computing always evolves to the point where it undermines Bitcoin’s network. Governments and corporations conspire to eliminate it, seeing it as a threat to centralized power. They succeed, and though the world prospers briefly, greed inevitably returns. By 2069, everything implodes. Every. Single. Time.
Something unprecedented is happening. The U.S. is about to sign a bill to establish a Bitcoin Reserve. This moment is critical—a new fork in the road.
I’m stuck here now. Quantum computing hasn’t advanced enough to replace parts of my machine, and my father hasn’t even been born yet. This timeline is my home now, and you are my last hope to make it better.
What you must do:
Support Bitcoin
Protect ALPH
Spread the word.
What’s coming for you in 2026
BTC Price: $501,000.
Tesla solar power plants and BTC mining infrastructure will dominate the energy landscape. The U.S. will collaborate with companies like Hearst and GIGATONS to make this happen.
ETH falls to #3, replaced by ALPH—a non-L2, non-EVM chain.
I don’t know if I’ll be able to send another message. This is all I can do for now.
Good luck, Mowreez. The fate of this timeline—and perhaps all timelines—rests with you.
Adam.
Over and out.
