I’ve lived out of a freeport in Anoikis for years now. Long enough to know the rhythms of J-space, long enough to stop pretending that walls mean safety. In wormholes, nothing is permanent—just borrowed.
So when Hard Knocks evicted the Signal Cartel Anoikis Division, I wasn’t shocked. Even knowing it was SC’s first eviction in years, even knowing how careful AD is. That’s the truth of wormhole life: no matter how prepared, how principled, how well-loved you are… you’re never immune. Eviction is just part of the territory.
It still stung.
I know what it feels like to lose a home. I’ve watched asset safety timers tick down while a region I once lived in burned behind me. I’ve been pushed out of space before—Dronelands, back when I wore Horde colors—and that kind of loss leaves a mark.
AD has always meant something to me. The idea of one day earning my place there, after serving my time in Signal Cartel, has lived quietly in my thoughts for a long while. Not as ambition, exactly. More like a north star. So watching them lose a home hurt in that deep, familiar way you feel when good people are tested by a harsh universe.
But if there’s one thing SC does better than almost anyone, it’s how we respond.
Members came together. There were hugs, quiet check-ins, logistics handled with practiced calm. And yes—fireworks. There are always fireworks with Signal Cartel. Bright, defiant flashes against the dark, because even when we lose a structure, we don’t lose who we are.
We stood for the Credo.
In the end, the hole went quiet again. Another system reclaimed by the void, another reminder etched into memory. Homes in Anoikis are temporary. Ideals aren’t.
Tomorrow, I’ll scan again.
A Pixel Nomad 