The fireworks shoot off
cracking sound and blinding lights,
while dreams are inflated and then just leave smoke and popping embers.
Fogo is the unseen hand in the basement, master of wires and currents, and conductor of the unnoticeable dance of parallel execution and instant settlement. Fogo, while all the other chains are looking for the glory, is laying down molten neon circuits in the digital underworld, streaming each byte, each compute, each transaction, and each star at the speed of light with laser-like focus. Builders, traders, and dreamers might not see it, but they experience it.
A river of certainty, a stream of speed, an unrelenting blaze. After the fireworks are done, and the crowd clears, Fogo continues to burn silently and fiercely while carrying the promise of the future in its flames.