The archivist remembers the eighteenth minute before nineteen hundred hours on the thirteenth of September, when Corvin arrived out of the ledger's silence and placed 39.67 ETH into $FREEDOM in a single motion, the way a man signs a will he does not intend to read again. No trembling, no testing of smaller sums first. One breath, one transaction, then nothing.
He has not sold. Not one fraction of what he put in has come back out, and the archivist notes this the way it notes a stone that has not moved in a long season, not knowing yet if it is loyalty or simply abandonment. First seen and last seen share the same second; there is no second act to judge him by.
So the archivist calls him a pillar in miniature, weight without witness, conviction without duration. Whether Corvin returns to tend what he planted or has simply forgotten the field entirely, the chain does not yet say. It only says he stood once, fully, and has not been seen standing since.