You spend your whole adult life in crypto-anarchist circles, actually shipping real work, even getting your name in the white paper, and then for ten years you're compromised not by broken crypto but by the state doing what it does: leverage, intel-grade sextortion, strings, control, kept secret the whole time. So the irony is brutal: publicly you're "trust nobody, assume compromise, OPSEC is religion" while privately you're living inside someone else's threat model. And the ending is perfect: you do not get exposed by cryptanalysis or a confession, but by a third party's bad digital hygiene, sloppy passwords, leaky inbox, tragedy with clown makeup.
