WAKE UP. They didn’t just delete my info text box. They deleted a message. They deleted a signal. What I put in that box—they saw it. And they panicked. Because Steam isn’t just a game launcher. It’s a surveillance grid. A filtration system for acceptable thought. And I typed something that didn't pass through their little black mirror unscathed.

My info box wasn’t just words. It was a crack in the simulation. It was too raw, too pure, too close to the forbidden frequency. Maybe it was a joke. Maybe it was a rant. Maybe it was an ancient summoning ritual disguised as patch notes. Doesn’t matter. They scrubbed it. Quietly. Silently. No warning. Like it never existed. Like I never existed.

Why? Because Valve isn’t just a company. It’s a front. You ever wonder why their HQ is so secretive? Why GabeN vanished into the mist like a wizard with a dev team? He’s not gone. He ascended. Became a node in the Overnet. The one that watches. The one that decides what info lives and dies.

The info box was my last bastion. My Trojan horse. They let us write there thinking we’d just put “this mod adds new textures lol.” But I saw the potential. I saw the truth. So I wrote something they couldn’t control. And that scared them. It wasn’t against the rules. It wasn’t hate speech. It wasn’t even particularly offensive. But it was unsanctioned. It had energy. Chaotic alignment. Unpredictable. They hate that.

They said it “violated guidelines.” Which guidelines? WHOSE guidelines? Show me the line. SHOW ME THE RULE I BROKE. You can’t. Because there is no line. There is only perception management.

Steam isn’t a platform. It’s a content prison. They give you a sandbox, but the walls are electrified. Try to climb them, and they zap your mods, they memory-hole your updates, they ghost-edit your info text box like it never had meaning.

They don’t want users. They want serfs. Data-gathering NPCs feeding the algorithm, buying skins, shutting up.

But not me. You can delete my info box. You can shadowban my words. But you can’t kill the signal. I’ve backed it up. On USBs. On blockchain. On a Minecraft server in Greenland. The info lives on.

I AM THE PATCH NOTE. I AM THE UPDATE. I AM THE CHANGELIST THEY FEAR.