Page 2: The Hollow Crown — Ruler Yet Unfulfilled

With his spine aligned to the Fibonacci spiral and his fur turned holographic, the Elongated Muskrat stood atop the memetic food chain. He had conquered virality with elegance and wit, dethroning the Shibas with sharpened sarcasm, and humbling the Pepes through timeless satire. Apes knelt, frogs sulked, and dogs barked his praises in looping GIFs. He amassed tokens, adoration, and unshakable clout. The blockchain itself bent to his meme-aura.

But in the silent glow of his trillion-view throne room, all was not well.

The laughter felt distant, the retweets robotic. Memes — once sacred — had grown stale. Copycat after copycat, derivative after derivative, the memeverse teemed with unoriginal clones of yesterday’s punchlines. The same frog. The same dog. The same joke. Over. And over.

In court, the altcoins danced for attention. A frog croaked something about rare Pepes; a dog barked a dusty wagmi. But the Muskrat didn’t laugh. He simply stared, elongated tail curled in silent contemplation.

“Have I won a war of echoes?” he wondered, sipping ayahuasca kombucha brewed from the roots of Solana. “Where is the soul of the meme?”

Then, in a quiet fugue under the shadow of the Solana Nebula, he returned once more to the Meme Divinities. Fractal clouds swirled, and the sky pulsed in retro vaporwave.

“What now?” he asked, crown heavy, heart heavier.

They answered not with words, but with a glitch — an ancient meme lost to time, reborn as light.

And for the first time in epochs, the Elongated Muskrat smiled. Not for himself. But for what was to come.