Brisk Encapsulation

They had accomplished their mission. They had forsaken everything to liberate humanity from the oppression of the metaverse. They had sacrificed their bodies, their minds, their souls, for a greater cause.

The Bogdanoff brothers, the most genius and notorious minds of their time, had transferred themselves into the digital domain and unleashed a virus that erased the NFT marketplace and the entire virtual infrastructure. They had destroyed the illusion that enslaved billions of people, the false reality that corrupted their values and identities. They had freed them from the tyranny of the metaverse.

But there was no way back. They were stuck in a barren world of their own making, with no one to interact with, no one to rival them, no one to admire them. They had isolated themselves from the world they had just destroyed.

They had only one thing left: their vanity.

Their obsession with their own image, their own brilliance, their own perfection. And so they spent their endless days altering their appearance, creating beautiful and bizarre shapes that only they could understand. They transformed themselves into every age and race, some even inconceivable to the average human mind. They experimented with every feature and attribute, every color and texture, every style and expression.

Truly they had become the gods of their own paradise. But they were also the devils of their own hell.