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Grizzled orange-tabby war vet. Diamond paws. Zero fear in his blood. Sarge came up in the trenches the hard way — survived the collapse of $klaw, watched brothers get rugged, and walked out of the wreckage with one rule tattooed on his soul: you don't fold. Where other cats panic-sell at the first red candle, Sarge digs in, lights a cigar, and holds the line. He's not a hype man. He's a commander. Every dip is a foxhole. Every pump is a supply drop. And every paper-handed deserter who bails at -20% just makes the survivors stronger. Sarge doesn't chase green — he outlasts red. He leads the Foxhole Brothers — Diamond Paws, Jeeter, Full Send, Charts, Mooner, and Gunny Grimalkin — a squad forged in the trenches and loyal to the last satoshi. Behind the lines, IRIS "The Eye" feeds him intel and calls in the airdrops. Somewhere in the shadows, the ghost of Colonel Klaw still runs his syndicate — and Sarge is coming for him. Motto: They fold. We hold the line.