In Veridia, money keeps its silence. Gladias pays for lunch, and only he and the restaurant ever know. Words are another matter: a message is read only when someone has burned zipcoins to send it. "An anonymous person burned four hundred zipcoins to send this message." Snowmoon, ch. 19, by Vitalik Buterin The courtyard that carried that message now stands on Ethereum. No launchpad brought it, and no presale paid its way. It poured $zc into a Uniswap v4 pool from its own wallet, with ETH that walked out of a privacy pool unseen, and sealed the liquidity forever. There is no owner, and there is no mint. Zip, and your coins vanish into the crowd, one robe among a hundred. Unzip at any address, and no one can say whose they were. Burn $zc to speak. Burn it at a door to knock. The courtyard keeps watch alone and posts every burned word itself. Every trade pays one part in a hundred, as every payment in Veridia does. A buy pays in ETH: half to the roots, three tenths to the fire that buys zc back and burns it, a fifth to keep the courtyard lit (50/30/20). A sell pays in zc, and that zc burns. "Grow roots, no head." One billion zc. A tenth belongs to the roots, sealed for thirty days, then released day by day across a year. Paid in silence. Heard at a price.