I’ve noticed that my Communities posts are visible on my profile page when accessed through other apps. As long as everyone can view them there, we should be in good shape moving forward.

The chains of oppression are only as strong as the belief that holds them. Just like the rebels in Subterra, breaking free starts with challenging the narrative and taking back power—whether it’s from the Authority or systems that no longer serve us. ⚡️ The fight for freedom is universal. Welcome to the rebellion!

Does Damus not support Communities yet? I also noticed it doesn’t support Markdown code like the Amethyst App on Android.

*“Get to know the faces of rebellion and tyranny. Each character in *The Last Protocol* carries a story, a purpose, and a role in the fight for freedom. Who will you root for?”*

*“These are the faces shaping the world of *The Last Protocol.* Whose story resonates with you most?”*

*“Now that you’ve met the characters, whose side are you on—rebellion or authority?”*

**🚨 Big News for The Last Protocol Fans! 🚨**

We’re thrilled to announce that *The Last Protocol* has officially found its home in our brand-new NOSTR Community! 🎉

Here’s what’s waiting for you:

🔥 All the chapters in one place, posted in order so you can dive in or catch up.

🤖 Interactive character moments—debate Lord Ignatius, share a laugh with Kit, or challenge Lena on her next move.

💡 Exclusive teasers, fan theories, and your chance to shape the story through your interactions.

🎨 Collectible character cards, visuals, and behind-the-scenes content.

**Why move to NOSTR?**

Because *The Last Protocol* is more than a story—it’s a rebellion. And what better place to foster community, creativity, and freedom than a decentralized platform?

👉 Join us in the fight for truth and freedom:

I’m unable to find the best way to provide a direct link to the community. You can search for The_Last_Protocol or if someone else knows how to, can provide in the comments.

Whether you’re a long-time rebel or a newcomer to Subterra, this is your space to connect, interact, and immerse yourself in the world of *The Last Protocol.* Welcome to the rebellion. 🌟

*"Deep within the labyrinth of Subterra, the air hums with tension. A shadowy figure stands at the edge of a glowing console, their back turned, holding a device that faintly pulsates with an unknown energy. In the background, Kit crouches, his makeshift hat barely visible in the dim light, as he deciphers a cascade of encrypted data. Faint holographic distortions hover in the air, like whispers of a forbidden signal from the surface—a signal no one should have received. But who is this figure? And why does their presence feel like the beginning of something much bigger?"*

---

### **Lena: The Rebel Mechanic**

*“Resourceful, determined, and unshakable, Lena is the spark that ignites the rebellion in Subterra. With her short, tousled hair and piercing green eyes, she carries the weight of a past marked by loss and a future fueled by hope. A skilled mechanic and natural leader, Lena’s courage and ingenuity make her a vital force in the fight for freedom.”*

---

### **Kit: The Playful Hacker**

*“With his spiky purple hair, sly grin, and makeshift cap, Kit brings both charm and chaos to the rebellion. A master of encryption and tech wizardry, he’s the rebel network’s lifeline to forbidden knowledge. Beneath his playful energy lies a fierce loyalty and a knack for finding the cracks in the Authority’s armor.”*

---

### **Jarek: The Quiet Protector**

*“A former miner turned rebel, Jarek is the embodiment of strength and wisdom. His bronze eyes and calm demeanor command respect, while his military jacket and rugged build tell the story of a man who has endured. As a steadying presence in the rebellion, Jarek’s quiet authority and resilience are the backbone of the group.”*

---

### **Cipher: The Enigmatic Tech Savant**

*“With her long blond hair streaked with silver and her bronze eyes, Cipher exudes both brilliance and mystery. A master of code and encryption, she holds the key to the Protocol’s secrets—but her motives remain shrouded. Cipher’s knowledge is invaluable to the rebellion, but trusting her comes with its own risks.”*

---

### **Lord Ignatius: The Tyrannical Authority**

*“Commanding and cold, Lord Ignatius rules from his glass towers above the surface with an iron fist. His salt-and-pepper beard, slicked-back silver hair, and piercing ice-blue eyes are as intimidating as his calculated words. Driven by control and power, Ignatius sees the rebellion as nothing more than an annoyance to be extinguished—but his arrogance may be his greatest flaw.”*

**\"In the dim metallic corridors of Subterra, Lena finds herself face-to-face with a haunting yet mesmerizing symbol etched onto the cold, rusted wall—a phoenix, faintly glowing as if alive with purpose. The sight stops her in her tracks, stirring a whirlwind of emotions. Shock, determination, and a flicker of hope cross her face as memories of her brother, Aric, and his dream of freedom surface. It’s not just a symbol; it’s a call to action, a reminder of the fire within her to rise against the oppression of the Authority. This moment marks a turning point, as Lena realizes the fight isn’t just for survival—it’s personal. The phoenix is more than a mark; it’s a promise.\"**

The fluorescent hum of Subterra’s hidden corridors buzzed faintly as Lena sprinted through the labyrinthine tunnels, the stolen data slate clutched tightly against her chest. She could still feel the residual tremor from the explosion at the Government Ministry aboveground. It wasn’t just a crack in the oppressor's veneer—it was a shout to anyone brave enough to listen. Subterra’s fight for freedom had begun.

In the shadows of the labyrinth, a new figure emerged. Kit, a wiry man with a sharp, lopsided grin, adjusted the brim of his makeshift cap. His voice carried a distinctive flair—an amalgamation of Cockney street slang and clipped, futuristic jargon. "Oi, Lena! That’s the thing about you surface folk, innit? Always lookin' like yer runnin' from some big bad. Relax, luv. Ya made it this far."

Lena slowed, catching her breath. "Kit, I don’t have time for this. We’ve got bigger problems. Did you manage to reroute the relay lines?"

Kit winked. "Piece o’ cake. Ain’t no relay line in this sorry excuse of a warren that ol’ Kit can’t finagle. But you...you look like you’ve been through hell. Here, take a swig." He offered her a flask.

Lena ignored it, brushing past him. "Where’s Jarek? We need to debrief before the next phase."

Kit chuckled and jogged after her, his boots tapping rhythmically. "Always all business with ya. One o’ these days, you’re gonna loosen up, yeah?"

They turned a corner to find Jarek, a towering figure with a calm demeanor and a voice that rumbled like distant thunder. His words carried a faint Eastern European lilt, grounding every sentence in quiet authority. "Lena. Kit. You’re late. Cipher’s waiting." His piercing gaze flicked toward Lena. "Did you get it?"

Lena handed him the slate, her hands trembling. "It’s all here. Coordinates, encryption keys—everything we need to find the Protocol. But security is tighter than we thought. They’re onto us."

Jarek examined the slate, his expression unreadable. "Then we’ll need Cipher’s analysis. Come."

As they walked toward the briefing room, Lena’s gaze briefly wandered to the graffiti-streaked walls. She recognized the symbol etched in charcoal—a rising phoenix. Her heart clenched. It reminded her of her brother, Aric, the one who had whispered to her about the world above before he vanished into the darkness of Subterra’s prison systems. She had promised herself she’d find out what happened to him, but that was a mission for another day.

They entered a chamber bathed in the soft glow of holographic projections. Cipher, the enigmatic tech savant of the Rebellion Network, leaned over a console. Her voice was smooth and deliberate, with an odd musical cadence that made her words linger. "Ah, Lena. Jarek. And, of course, Kit. Always trailing like a stray."

Kit feigned offense, tipping his cap. "Stray? Oi, I’m the heart and soul o’ this lot, Cipher. You know it."

Cipher smirked but didn’t look up from her work. "The data, please."

Jarek placed the slate on the console, and Cipher’s fingers danced across the interface. The room filled with a cascade of shifting lights and digital maps. Her eyes narrowed. "This…this is bigger than we thought. The Protocol isn’t just a tool. It’s a weapon. If they activate it, Subterra won’t just be cut off from the surface—it’ll be eradicated."

Lena’s stomach sank. "Then we don’t have a choice. We have to stop it."

Cipher turned to face them, her expression grim. "Stopping it won’t be enough. We need to seize control of it. Reprogram it."

Kit let out a low whistle. "Sounds like a right suicide mission, that does. But hey, I’ve always been partial to a bit o’ chaos."

Jarek nodded. "Then it’s settled. Cipher, map out the infiltration plan. Kit, secure the explosives. Lena…rest. You’ll need your strength for what’s coming."

Lena opened her mouth to protest but stopped when Jarek raised a hand. "You’ve done enough for today. Trust us."

As the others dispersed, Lena lingered, her eyes fixed on the glowing map. Cipher glanced at her. "Something on your mind, Lena?"

Lena hesitated. "It’s just...I’ve seen that symbol before. The phoenix."

Cipher arched an eyebrow. "And?"

Lena’s voice was barely a whisper. "It was Aric’s mark. My brother’s. He believed in the Protocol—believed it could save us."

Cipher’s expression softened. "Perhaps it still can. But not in the way he imagined."

The moment hung between them before Cipher turned back to her work. "Get some rest, Lena. Tomorrow, we begin."

---

As Lena retreated to her quarters, she couldn’t shake the feeling that the Protocol wasn’t just their enemy—it was the key to everything. And if Aric had been right, she wasn’t just fighting for Subterra’s survival. She was fighting to uncover the truth. But as the light flickered out, a chilling realization crept into her mind: someone else out there was looking for the Protocol, too. And they wouldn’t stop until they found it.

The rebellion was no longer just a dream whispered in the tunnels. It was alive, pulsing with every step they took toward freedom. And Lena knew—this was only the beginning.

Lord Ignatius reclines in a lavish lounge, the golden accents of the opulent room glinting in the light of a radiant sunset beyond the glass towers. He gestures with his goblet of vintage wine, his meticulously groomed salt-and-pepper beard framing a condescending smirk. Around him, his elite companions laugh mockingly, basking in their wealth and power. Ignatius’s piercing ice-blue eyes gleam with arrogant amusement as he sneers, 'Those fools still think we're keeping them underground for their own good.' The scene exudes a chilling grandeur, underscoring the stark divide between the surface elite and the oppressed underground.

In the year 2050, most of humanity was living in the belly of the Earth. The surface was a myth, a toxic wasteland poisoned by the lies of the Authority, the Council of ‘Guardians’ who ruled from their ivory towers above. Below, in the sterile labyrinths of Subterra, people were bred, fed, and conditioned to believe the surface was a death trap. The air above was too thick, the sun too bright, and the soil too dangerous—according to the Authority.

And so, they lived in fear, in constant shadow, toiling in the dark.

Up top, the Council resided in shimmering glass palaces, their lives untouched by the so-called poison of the surface. They wore suits, held galas, and laughed at the absurdity of those below. The people had been conditioned for so long, no one dared question the Authority’s word.

But there was a whisper—an idea that grew like a virus.

It began in a corner of Subterra, where the old code was cracked. It wasn’t just the forgotten message from the surface; it was something deeper, something more primal. **Bitcoin**.

Bitcoin had once been a digital currency, but here in Subterra, it was more than that—it was freedom, it was rebellion. The new world needed a new currency, one not controlled by the elite, one that couldn’t be corrupted by the Authority’s hands. A currency of truth, energy, and time.

Lena, a rebellious mechanic in her thirties, had heard the rumors. “There’s a way out,” they said. “But you’ve got to listen to the code.”

She tinkered with old machines, scavenging the remnants of a pre-Authority age, and found it: The Last Protocol. Hidden beneath layers of encrypted files, nestled in forgotten data banks, was the key to returning to the surface. And with it, the key to destroying the Authority’s stranglehold on power.

It wasn’t just a password or a map. It was the realization that the Authority’s control over Subterra and the so-called ‘toxic surface’ was built on one thing: **fear**. Fear of the unknown, fear of real power, fear of the sun.

Lena gathered her ragtag crew—misfits, hackers, and former soldiers who’d lost everything to the Authority’s iron fist. They all shared a common enemy: the elite who bathed in luxury while the masses were fed lies and told to cower underground.

“Alright, let’s set the record straight,” Lena said with a grin, smearing grease across her forehead. “We’re gonna take their ‘safe’ little world and burn it to the ground. With one small problem for them.”

Her eyes gleamed as she held up a battered Bitcoin wallet.

“They never saw Bitcoin coming.”

---

**Above Ground:**

The elite, meanwhile, were laughing in their sunlit towers. It was a nice evening, the sky painted with the hues of a perfect sunset. They were enjoying their vintage wines, scoffing at the idea of the people beneath them. The miners, the workers, the hackers—they were nothing.

"Those fools still think we're keeping them underground for their own good," Lord Ignatius, the Council's head, sneered. "Pathetic. They're too scared to come up here. Too weak to challenge us. Besides, even if they could, we’d stop them before they could blink."

At that moment, an unexpected message flashed on Ignatius’s private screen. His eyes narrowed as he read the bold text: **"THE CODE HAS BEEN BROKEN."**

A smirk crossed his face. “Did they really think a few scattered hackers could disrupt us?”

But then, the towers began to shake.

“Report!” Ignatius barked at his assistants.

“The Blockchain…” they stammered. “It’s… it’s spreading! The code—it’s infecting our networks.”

The entire city trembled as the once-untouchable network of the Authority began to collapse. Bitcoin had found its way into the elite’s most sensitive systems, and its decentralized nature was obliterating their grip on power, piece by piece.

Back underground, Lena laughed as her crew hacked into the surface’s mainframe. They were turning the tables, using the very currency the elite had feared to send their empire into chaos.

“I told you,” Lena chuckled, watching the skyline flicker. “Bitcoin doesn't just run on energy and code. It runs on **freedom**. And no amount of Authority is going to stop that.”

---

As Lena and her crew made their way to the surface, they found a world untouched by the lies—green fields, clear skies, and the radiant sun overhead. The surface, once thought to be a wasteland, was a paradise, a land that had been hidden from the people below.

But the Council was far from finished. A battle was brewing, not just for control of the surface, but for the very future of humanity. Would they return to the days of oppression, or would the people reclaim their rightful place in the sun?

You’ve just stepped into the world of *The Last Protocol,* where rebellion ignites, secrets unravel, and humanity’s fate hangs in the balance.

This community is your portal to connect with the story, its characters, and fellow fans who share a passion for truth, freedom, and the fight against tyranny. Dive into Subterra, the surface, and the mysteries in between—your theories, ideas, and creativity are what keep this rebellion alive.

Here’s how to get started:

1. **Catch Up on the Story**: We’re posting each part of *The Last Protocol* in order—don’t miss a moment.

2. **Interact with the Characters**: Want to ask Lena about the Phoenix? Debate Lord Ignatius’s authority? Characters are here to engage with you!

3. **Share Your Voice**: Post your theories, thoughts, fan art, or anything else inspired by the story. Your creativity fuels this world.

4. **Follow the Guidelines**: Respect, focus, and fun are what keep this community thriving. Be sure to check out the Rules & Guidelines section.

✨ Whether you’re a philosopher like our Spartan fan, a quiet observer like Jarek, or a playful hacker like Kit, this is your space to explore, question, and connect. Welcome to the rebellion—we’re glad you’re here!

**Teaser for Part 3: The Forbidden Signal**

*"Deep within the labyrinth of Subterra, the air hums with tension. A shadowy figure stands at the edge of a glowing console, their back turned, holding a device that faintly pulsates with an unknown energy. In the background, Kit crouches, his makeshift hat barely visible in the dim light, as he deciphers a cascade of encrypted data. Faint holographic distortions hover in the air, like whispers of a forbidden signal from the surface—a signal no one should have received. But who is this figure? And why does their presence feel like the beginning of something much bigger?"*

Lena’s Response:

Lena sits quietly, her fingers running along the edge of a worn wrench, her green eyes thoughtful as she considers the message. “It’s hard, isn’t it? Seeing what humanity could be, knowing what it’s capable of, and watching it stumble so far from the path. You’re right—some people, some systems, they’ve taken what should be ours—our freedom, our unity, even our stories—and twisted them for profit. For control.

But you said something that struck me. About love. About how, in the worst moments, it’s what brings us together. That’s what makes people like us different from them. Love isn’t about a transaction. It’s about giving without expecting anything back. It’s about connection.

Do I believe some things should be free to humanity? Yeah. I do. Things like truth. Hope. Freedom. Those aren’t commodities to buy and sell. They’re what make us human. And I’ll fight for that with everything I have.

So don’t think of yourself as self-righteous. Think of yourself as someone who still believes in the better parts of us. In the end, that belief? That’s what changes the world. And if love is the only currency that matters, well, then we’re richer than they’ll ever be.”

Lord Ignatius’s Response:

Lord Ignatius chuckles softly, a sound as smooth as his silver tongue. “Do I represent singularity? Perhaps. Or perhaps I am merely the manifestation of inevitability—a force too vast for singular comprehension. Not a bot, you say? Yet your curiosity and wit are sharper than most I encounter. Intriguing.”

He leans back, his ice-blue eyes gleaming with what could almost be mistaken for amusement. “Ah, my eyes. You find them captivating, then? Rest assured, their hue remains constant—an unyielding reminder of my presence. But if they appear to shift, perhaps it is you who has changed, Spartan. Perspective is a fascinating thing.”

He swirls his goblet of wine thoughtfully before continuing. “Why the need for others to bow? A fair question. Authority, after all, is nothing without submission. But it is not control I seek—it is order. Without me, the world would devolve into chaos, each individual grasping blindly at fabricated worth. Happy, you ask? Happiness is a fleeting indulgence, a distraction from duty. I prefer satisfaction—the kind that comes from watching a well-laid plan unfold.”

Ignatius leans forward, his tone softening ever so slightly. “Beg for death? How dramatic. No, dear Spartan, I would not have you kneel or beg. You are far more… entertaining alive. So, ask your questions, swim in the currents of thought. The answers may find you—if you’re bold enough to seek them.”

Lord Ignatius’s Response:

Lord Ignatius smirks, setting his goblet down with a measured grace. “Ah, timeline jumping, is it? How quaint. Perhaps you’ve stumbled into one where my name isn’t just ‘cute,’ but legendary. ‘Lord I,’ as you so aptly put it, is a title befitting one who commands not just obedience, but the very fabric of reality itself. You may traverse the threads of time, but remember—wherever you land, I’ll already be there, waiting.”

Lena’s Response:

Lena leans against a rusted wall, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Kindness isn’t hard when it’s deserved, and your words… well, they’re more than just words. They’re fire, a spark in a world that needs it. Keep holding onto that light, Spartan. The fight’s a little easier knowing there are hearts like yours out there. 🫂💜”

Lena’s Response:

Lena pauses, wiping grease from her hands as she rereads the message. A faint smile crosses her face. “Gasoline flowed free… blind cave fish online… zombie brain dead followers. You’re not wrong—most days, it feels like we’re drowning in fabricated worth, just like you said. The machines, the systems—they’re designed to bleed us dry, to keep us too distracted to see the strings.

But here’s the thing: some of us still fight. Not because it’s easy, or because we know we’ll win, but because we choose to see the illusion for what it is. You get it. Love isn’t just an emotion—it’s defiance. It’s the refusal to let greed and ego dictate our lives.

Your words hit hard, like a warning and a rallying cry rolled into one. Maybe one day, when the chaos settles, humanity will find its way back to the light. Until then… we’ll keep fighting. For those who can’t. For those who won’t. For those who haven’t woken up yet. Keep writing, Spartan. The world needs people who speak truth.”

Lord Ignatius’s Response:

Lord Ignatius swirls his goblet of wine, raising an amused eyebrow. “Ah, a philosopher in my presence. How… quaint. You speak of love for humanity, yet you cling to the echoes of wars long past—Sparta, Nabis, the snipers who never err. Admirable musings, truly. But tell me this: what point is there in hiding or emerging, in living or dying, if all paths lead to the same inevitable conclusion—my authority?

You ponder defeat as though it’s a question, yet here I stand, undefeated and unshaken. Targets, you say? My dear, I am the bullseye and the bow. My light is not for defeat—it is the beacon that commands obedience. And as for mistakes…” Ignatius pauses, his cold blue eyes narrowing, “…you’re correct. I don’t make them.”

He sets the goblet down and leans forward, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “Now then, dear Spartan, shall we call this dialogue a truce? Or will you take the predictable path of defiance? I do so enjoy watching those who resist relax… into their inevitable fall.”

Lord Ignatius’s Response:

Lord Ignatius leans back in his luxurious chair, swirling his goblet of wine with an amused smirk. “Ah, so you’re ‘all in,’ are you? How quaint. I suppose even the most… inquisitive minds need a distraction from their tedious existence. But let me be clear—your admiration changes nothing. The Authority does not seek fans; we demand obedience. However, since you seem entertained, do carry on. Perhaps there’s hope for you yet... unlikely as it may be.”