PROJECT CONQUEST: The Complete Conqueror Operating Manual

Inside the Minds of Two Delusionally Ambitious Operators (Cipheron × g2Ø)

Cipheron opening exposé

4:12 AM.

just finished a project I was working on for many hours.

I am exhausted, but the amount of stimulants I’ve taken doesn’t allow me to sleep.

empty red bull cans scattered all over my desk. modafinil and caffeine still holding on.

my room has turned into something of a psychopath’s shrine to the greats.

a marble bust of alexander shines faintly on my shelf, lit by the moonlight.

the man who crossed from greece to india and conquered the entire known world in ten years. how tf was that even possible?

beside it lies the iliad. worn and underlined.

I read it for the first time when i was eight. while most boys my age were playing with hot wheels and stacking lego, I was marveling at achilles, the hero who lived a short life but secured eternal glory.

the wall behind me is covered by a larger-than-life portrait of ‘napoleon crossing the alps.’

the moment when bonaparte, inspired by the example of hannibal, led his army across the highest mountains in europe in the middle of the winter, making one of the boldest war maneuvers in history.

I’ve been reading all those legends and myths of great men since I was a kid, and something about them never left me.

mediocrity disgusts me. nothing terrifies me more than dying average and forgotten.

once, my ten-year-old self swore he would stand among the very greats. but still… i clearly don’t see myself on that list yet.

now, my drive to carve my name into history has reached an extreme.

I no longer operate like a normal human.

days mix with nights. relationships suffer.

I broke up with a girl i had been with for many years.

one day she had had enough and asked me: “what do you even want? to be some superhero? a conqueror? you are so delusional.”

yeah… to be fair, I want something exactly like this.

fame. glory. legacy. that’s what i’m going after.

what’s the point of doing anything if, in the end, you vanish as if you were never here?

the dust from your bones is gone. so is all the memory about your existence.

that possibility haunts me during the day. it keeps me awake at night.

I won’t let that happen.

I promise.

I won’t let that happen.

---

---

g2Ø unholy intro

i ain’t going to fuck around on this piece.

me & cipheron had a little talk before getting too fried with too many stimulants.

i always had a feeling about this guy... some strange energy... that he’s the one that truly understands the mission i’m on.

& my schizo personality.

2 minds. same type of insane mindset. it’s quite comforting to know i’m not alone in all this.

its like our minds are aligned perfectly... & we’re just reporting back from the depths of the gutter.

in retrospect... this is pretty much impossible to do. if you haven’t got a mission to begin with.

so let me tell you about mine...

this ain’t gonna be some sobby story but... i’m doing all this in the name of my mother.

you see... i was raised by my single mother. back in poland, in some dodgy area on the suburbs.

my alcoholic father vanished when i was a toddler. so my entire childhood she was the only support i had. without a male role model.

she sacrificed literally everything so i could have a good life... even though poland back then was rough. she made my life bearable.

fast forward... we move to uk. again... we start of with nothing. no money. no people to ask for help.

she’s putting in overtime at a factory. taking extra jobs. just to get by. i had nothing. trust me, i know what it means to live minimalistic.

her sacrifice allowed me to go to college... where i would essentially spend most of my time.

college -> gym -> gaming -> repeat

getting into college was only good to get some free $ and a free meal tbh.

i used to skip most of the classes... too boring

however. when i actually attended. i couldn’t listen to some harlots talk about things i didn’t give a fuck about.

noise cancelling airpods did the trick. no bitch was breaking through the gamma waves soothing my mind.

but if it wasn’t gamma waves... i put some old business seminars on. and listened to every word. very deeply.

so deeply... i started daydreaming mid class... what could i become if i go through with this...?

the anonymous entrepreneur playing with human emotions for $?

a gym demon enjoying the late nights with a clanking sound of iron plates & getting more attractive?

or a narcissistic schizo who ALWAYS does everything for the love the game?

how about everything mixed in into one guy...

i knew deep down... it is possible.

suddenly... i wake up from my dream... some bitch shouting down my ear. “i’ll see you after class”

no free will in this shithole at all... ffs

bell rings. and i’m gone. never back.

i’m walking back home. still decoding the minds of successful people in my head. thinking what i’m going to say to my mum... it ain’t as simple as “i quit”

also... i can’t lie to her face. i ain’t this unethical.

i end up telling her imma take a gap year. trynna figure out what i really want to do. i give myself a year to make it out. otherwise i gotta get back into school. and live a life where my dream... is only that. a dream.

one year. one mission.

only one possible outcome.

make my mother proud.

one year passed already. but i’m not going to spoil it for you if i made it happen.

i gotta keep you intrigued till the end. & it will do nicely for an outro.

so... this is what we are going to talk about tonight... listen up, i’m NOT going to repeat myself.

---

---

Cipheron: mental detatchment

7:42 PM. the same day. just came back from uni.

last night I was exhausted from work, this evening it’s a different type of exhaustion.

there is nothing as exhausting as the feeling of being surrounded by people who have no direction.

I see dead people every day.

they do what they’re told to do. they die when they’re told to die.

tbh, I no longer talk to most of them anymore.

as soon as I hear shit about this tiktok or that concert, my brain automatically switches off and stops listening.

none of these words reach my mind, but I let them talk anyway.

in the meantime, my thoughts circulate around my vision.

I operate from the shadows. none of these mfs know what I am planning.

it’s better to keep your plans within the closest circle.

plotting only with mfs like g2Ø. delusional psychopaths who understand my obsessive desire to conquer, and those I can count on the fingers of one hand.

sometimes it feels like he’s my alter ego.

we think the same unhealthy thoughts, feel the same intense emotions.

maybe we’re the same person. tyler durden type shit.

mb, the modafinil kicked in too hard, but anyways… even if I wanted to share it with the majority, none of them would understand.

i mean, how could they if all their brain cells are fried by gen-z tiktoks.

I am deadly allergic to mediocrity. this shit drives me off.

how can you be worried about the lives of all these people if you haven’t yet secured a name for yourself?

how can you not have that drive, that psychotic desire to make something of yourself? disgusting.

operating in such an environment is hard, but sometimes there is no other way around.

if you cannot detach yourself physically, you have to detach yourself mentally.

the point lies in not letting yourself get consumed by them. not letting your fire be put out by their indifference.

you are the outsider, a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

you stop perceiving the world through your eyesight and start living through your mindsight.

you are still there. you can see and hear them, but none of it reaches you on the emotional level.

you live completely detached from “reality” and create a sort of void.

the game shifts when you learn to consciously fill that void.

g2Ø: married to the game

i always assumed my dream would live forever...

unlike humans... the possibilities of your dreams are infinite

meaning, never dying.

the woman who had raised me... she was disappearing infront of my eyes...

one thing i realised is... life really is finite.

but if we all know this... why are wasting this life doing things we don’t love.

days of role playing as 2 parents at once... nights of lethal double shifts... long enough of this... & it can ruin anyone.

towards the end... i only seen her sat on a sofa. watching reality tv. and her hands shaking from too many stressy ciggies...

there was some real dark days... one’s that left her immobile for days. her mind too fried from sleep deprivation. in survival mode 24/7. horror.

i realised that as the man of the house. i needed to do something before its too late.

but if i was going to do that...

i’d need to go all in.

and so that’s what i did...

i paid the price... and it wasn’t cheap at all.

as you may know... for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.

in the moment... it seemed logical to me to do only ONE thing...

pay the price. get everything i ever desired.

pay nothing. get nothing.

sometimes it makes me laugh how life really works.

you’re saying i gotta sell myself to get a good life?

i found cipheron laid up. rolling off the modafinil & going crazy about this piece. it doesn’t take a genius to see he is doing it out of love for the game.

lost in all this... i need a real psycho’s opinion on this... so i ask him...

what is the price for a good life?

his eyes lit up... shot back up standing infront of me... with a villain smirk on his face... he says...

“we become what we think about”

he taps me on the shoulder... and goes back into his default state. talking to himself & cooking up another operation to take over the world. lovely.

but, holy shit...

he’s so right... how the fuck could’ve i missed this?

i’ve been working so hard. never giving myself a proper break throughout all this, that my vision got blurry.

i simply forgot why i’m doing all this for...

therefore... i don’t waste any more time...

i step onto the balcony, meharis already lit up, lil baby playing in one ear, soothing sounds of the city at night in the other... i get deep into pondering about this.

if we become what we think about...

then why am i thinking of the worst case scenarios...?

...why am i considering failing...?

...how is plan b even an option?

i stare off into the distance. the mix of flashing lights and black dots from modafinil painted a beautiful picture in my head. anything i dream of becomes 10x real.

honestly... maybe it is real...

as davinci sketched out the ideal man... maybe i can sketch out the ideal version of myself in my mind...

i take a swig... hiss & crackle.... pure tobacco enters my system.

the nicotine buzzing in my veins. i savour the earthy pungent smoke, turning anxious thoughts into something that’s lifechanging.

while i’m still on the buzz... i need you to listen...

if you view work as a pleasure... life is heaven. its pure bliss.

i know i love what i do. and i’d sacrifice literally everything to get to the point that satisfies me. and more.

but if you view work as a duty. something that has to get done... life is hell.

you will never be able to enjoy the fruits of your labour... if you don’t love what you do.

this is the price i gotta pay…

which brings me to something a wise man once said...

“a man is what he thinks about all day long”

i look inwards. reminiscing on the past. seeing a clear picture of my mother...

i knew i was extremely obsessive and had a simmering narcissistic personality in me...

so... falling into this place of writing my deepest introspections & beliefs onto a page... where i spend most of my days & nights pondering where life is going.

i became an addict. and i can’t even hide it anymore.

all i know now... i don’t want to hide it.

this is who i am.

this is who i became.

this is who i dreamed off to become.

so i did.

& i stand by it...

the 3rd eye in my rear is telling me cipheron is ready to take over... so ill pass on the keyboard and let him spill his mind...

Cipheron: identity shifting

7 hours later.

the digital clock on my desk displays 2:37 AM. white led letters glowing in the darkness of my room.

it was supposed to be a short session, but the work consumed me.

the night caught me again.

after hours of non-stop focus, I allowed myself a short break.

my window opens directly to the glowing moon, and for a good 20 minutes I just stared at it.

I look at the same moon as all the greats before me, I thought.
I look at the same moon as alexander once did.

before he was born, there were legends saying that a thunderbolt struck his mother’s womb.

later, his father dreamt that her womb was sealed with the seal of a lion.

at his birth, the temple of artemis burned, and people whispered that on this day a child was born who would conquer all of asia.

when he was a boy, his mother kept telling him he was descended from the mythical achilles. later, that he was the son of zeus himself.

in egypt, he was proclaimed a pharaoh. he was praised and worshipped like a god.

what do you think happens to a man’s brain when all of that happens?

he tries to live up to it.

modern culture tries to frame “ego” as something bad. something to get rid of or completely exterminate.

bullshit.

your ego, your self-concept, your identity are quite literally the ceiling of what you can accomplish.

if you downgrade yourself mentally, your actions will inevitably follow that limitation.

but when you place yourself ahead mentally, your behavior starts adjusting to that standard.

when alexander crossed into asia, he did not operate like a normal human.

he took risks no human would dare. he had ambitions no human would think possible.

why?

because he believed the limits of a mortal man did not apply to him.

when your identity expands, your actions expand with it.

the chosen one is simply the one who chose himself.

if you aim for great things in your life, the first step is to craft an identity capable of achieving them.

shape that identity. embody it. become that person internally.

you cannot outrun your own shadow.

that’s the first rule of the game.

g2Ø: the point of no return.

cipheron passed out about an hour ago. modafinil finally let him go. he’s sprawled on the couch with his laptop still open. screen dimming. i can hear him breathing heavy. mf works like he’s running out of time. i respect that more than he knows.

me? i can’t sleep. not tonight.

i’ve been staring at my macbook for a few minutes without typing a word. not because i don’t know what to say. because i know exactly what to say and it’s too heavy. even for me.

imma offest it the best i can...

there’s a moment in every man’s life where the old version of him dies. not slowly. it just... stops. like a switch. one day you wake up and the person who used to wonder if he was good enough...

he’s gone. and this cold eerie feeling replaces it.

i remember the exact night it happened for me.

7:12pm. i’m sat in my lab. broke. genuinely broke. not “i can’t afford the nice things in life” broke. “i’m calculating if i can eat tomorrow” broke...

my mum was asleep in the living room. she’d just finished a double shift. her hands was still shaking from exhaustion when she said goodnight. she smiled at me tho. she always smiles at me. even when there’s nothing to smile about.

& something snapped.

it wasn’t frustration or anger. something panoramic. something quiet and violent at the same time. like a decision that had already been made somewhere deep in my nervous system and my conscious mind just started registering it.

i will never let this happen again.

not to anyone i truly love.

i didn’t write it down in my notepad. i just knew. the way you know your own name...

that night the old me died. whoever i am now was born in that silence.

& everything since then... the $. the writing. the late nights & early mornings. the nootropics. the obsessive psychology deep dives. the posts you’re reading right now...

it all traces back to that one moment in a dark cold room next to a woman who gave me everything she had and still couldn’t catch a break.

do not forget the simple rule to become extraordinary...

as you sow. so shall you reap.

cipheron talks about legacy & the great historical figures...

my legacy is simpler.

my mum will never work another shift in her life.

that’s the mission. that’s why i don’t stop.

to give her the gift of life.

the freedom one truly deserves.

everything else is pathetic.

nothing comes close to this.

...

i hear cipheron shifting on the couch. he’s mumbling something about “conquering europe” in his sleep. this guy is genuinely unwell. perfect.

back to work.

Cipheron: the fuel for achievement

woke up, it’s saturday. sunny afternoon.

visited my birthgiver and we went for a walk to a nearby forest.

recalling the old times. talking about my childhood, mostly.

she reminds me how angry of a kid I always was. how stubborn I was. how much I rebelled against the whole world.

nothing satisfied me. nothing ever seemed enough. it was just me and that raw, pure anger.

it wasn’t easy to live with this type of character back then.

I got into school fights easily. disrespected teachers and got into a lot of trouble.

many people who knew me probably thought I would end up in jail.
they thought I was insane. dangerous.

yeah… maybe I was.

but now, I found the antidote.

my anger is my superpower now.

I am no longer a slave to my emotions. I am their master.

i learned to consciously transform that energy into physical results. just like an alchemist transforming metal into gold.

don’t get me wrong. the anger is still boiling within me.

I’m still a ticking bomb, capable of exploding at every moment, but now I know where to direct the explosion.

some time ago I saw a person especially close to me give in to drug addiction again.

instantly, I felt all my muscles tighten. anger rising. rage building.

but instead of exploding, I channeled all that energy into achievement.

30 minutes later I was on my way to the boxing gym. during the sparring session, I was faster. sharper. more explosive.

Later, when I sat down to learn, I was more focused. curious. eager to absorb everything.

when the nighttime came, I entered one of the deepest flow states ever.

hours felt like minutes, and during that single night I did more work than I would normally do in a week.

the same applies to lust. fear. greed. whatever your gut is expressing at the moment.

there is no such thing as a “bad emotion.”

every emotion existing in the universe carries energy.

the goal is not to repress that energy, but to channel it.

letting it flow, only giving it direction.

when you stop fighting your feelings and start flowing with them, you will be surprised how powerful you can become.

just as nikola tesla once said:

“if you want to find the secrets of the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency and vibration.”

your emotion is your energy in motion.

master your feelings. nurture them.

and with time, the fire you create will consume everything that stands in its way.

g2Ø: the thing living behind my eyes

4:44am. cipheron is in the other room muttering about napoleon’s flanking strategy at austerlitz like he’s giving a ted talk to nobody. i can hear him pacing. the floorboards creak every 0.3 seconds. metronome of a madman. beautiful.

i’m sat here with half a burnt out meharis between my fingers that i forgot to smoke up. bromantane dissolved. pablo tucked in nicely. 3 empty white monster cans forming a little shrine next to my macbook.

& i’ve been thinking about something that i can’t unthink.

there’s something living behind my eyes that isn’t me.

but not the type of edgy way you’re thinking of. i mean it literally is... there is a second operator inside my mind that takes over when conditions are right. and he is better than me at everything.

he wrote the posts that made people sub up in the darkest hours...

he said the exact words that made her melt when my conscious brain was drawing blanks...

he built the neurological systems that make me act like a narcissist & psychopath at the same time...

he mapped the full deep psychology & reverse engineered into my life while “i” was somewhere else entirely.

i’ve just been sitting in the passenger seat taking all the credit.

& the scariest part? i don’t fully control when he shows up.

sometimes i’ll sit down to write and it’s just... me. normal me. rewriting the same sentence a few times. mediocre output from a mediocre state. i could sit there for 3 hours and produce nothing worth reading. pathetic

but other times...

i sit down and within a couple of minutes i feel this... shift. like something clicks behind my forehead. and my fingers start moving faster than my thoughts. and the words aren’t coming FROM me they’re coming THROUGH me. and i look up 4 hours later at something i genuinely don’t remember writing and it’s the best thing i’ve ever done...

who wrote that?

the grandiosity in me is whispering to me that i’ve done it. but i know there is deeper layers to this game... i honestly think...

it was some dark force. the thing behind my eyes.

jung called it the Self.. the totality of the psyche. the part that sits above the ego like a puppet master who only plays with the strings when the puppet stops trying to control itself.

you ever notice that? the harder you TRY to be creative... the worse it gets?

but the moment you stop trying & get intentionally bored. the moment you get so lost in the task that “you” disappear...

that’s when THAT thing comes out.

& i swear i’m getting tired of pretending...

i think this is what separates guys like me & cipheron from everyone else who always try to find excuses to avoid hard work...

we’re not optimising anything. we’re simply trying to get ourselves out of the way.

everything i do. i do it in the name of the game.

i deserve to fail hard. i need to experience the euphoria of winning right after

i deserve to feel the pain. to enjoy the true quality of life.

i deserve the darkest hours. i need to learn how to appreciate the light.

i deserve everything.

by any means.

i do believe i’m a 100% a psychopath. because no normal human could tolerate so much pain and stress & not completely completely crumble.

i enjoy every bit of it...

the snus. the modafinil. the bromantane. the caffeine. the darkness. the isolation. the late night sessions when the world goes quiet and there’s no notifs popping up...

i’m enjoying my fucking life for once.

if i think it benefits me. i will go and do it.

as long as it benefits me. its all good.

however... keep in mind that...

i’m invoking the thing behind my eyes.

& when he shows up... i don’t question it. i don’t interrupt. i don’t check my phone. i don’t eat. i don’t piss. i let him drive until he’s done. because if i grab the wheel... even for a second... he vanishes. and getting him back takes hours. sometimes days. maybe even months...

i don’t think mfs realise how far and fast we’ve fallen...

all of you could become extraordinary... but i honestly think you never will. and that’s the realest i can get with you.

you honestly think when you reach a certain age... things will start making sense?

then it comes to that age... and you’re as lost as you were before.

in quantum physics there is a simple rule called wave particle duality.

it basically describes how light and dark can exist in two completely different states. at once.

& when observed closely. they act like waves. existing everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

meaning... the more you try to control reality by labelling it... the less room it has to move onto something else.

maybe... just maybe... that’s why i didn’t change because the circumstances changed. my perception did.

cipheron understands this. i see it in the way he works. he doesn’t try. he disappears. then something extraordinary comes out the other side. and he looks at it the same way i do... slightly confused. slightly disturbed. like... where did that come from?

i understand how it feels...& i didn’t want him to go down this pitfall any longer... i had to tell him...

i wake him up & say... “its coming from the same place. the thing behind both our eyes. it controls us”

some people call it god. some call it the unconscious. freud called it the id. i don’t care what you call it.

i just know it’s there. and it lets me discover secrets to a life i deserve. it built everything i have based off that. that’s how much trust i’ve got in this.

so no. i’m not a genius. i’m not even that talented.

i’m just a crazy guy who learned how to get out of his own way.

& the thing that shows up in my spot?

he’s the one you’re actually reading.

i just hold the pen.

...

4:51am. cipheron just walked in. eyes wide. pupils the size of saucers. he’s holding a notebook with something scribbled across 3 pages in handwriting i guarantee even he can’t read.

“bro. i just had the craziest idea.”

of course he did. i never doubt this guy.

back to schizo mode. both of us. or neither of us. however this works.

Cipheron: quantum leap

just finished another night session.

the world is quiet. not a single sound in the air.

I am exhausted, but the real work begins now.

I lie down in my bed and clear my mind completely.

then, as I drift into unconsciousness, I visualize the detailed scene of my desired reality with all its intensity.

I can see the colours. feel the shape. smell the scent.

I am not merely observing. I am inside the scene.

I can move things, interact with the environment, change the scenery with the blink of an eye.

at some point I realize that I am inside a dream. a lucid dreaming. lovely.

I quantum leap straight into my desired timeline. I test new scenarios. new routes. new possibilities.

when I wake up, I can recall every detail of my dream with perfect clarity.

now it has become a core memory. I’ve been there. it feels very much real.

slowly, I condition my subconscious mind to become more and more familiar with my desired reality, until at some point it accepts it as my current reality.

the subconscious cannot see the difference between what’s real and what’s vividly imagined.

therefore, I dwell in my imagination every night, letting the vision sink deeper and deeper.

free from the constraints of the waking world, the subconscious mind does not act normal.

rationality shuts off. intuition takes over.

all that logic that keeps you small during the day no longer interrupts.

you can be anywhere. do anything. become anyone.

I have done this so often already that I feel like I live in two realities.

one in the physical world, and one in my dreams.

even when I am awake, I can see the desired one imposed on top of the current one.

I have created years of memories pre-living my desired reality on the mental level.

I have tasted how it feels already, and my hunger to recreate it physically only grows stronger and stronger.

I’ve become addicted to that frequency. it’s my drug. the whole world.

nothing else exists. nothing else matters.

g2Ø: the life of a dead man

i had a dream about my father last night.

first time in years. maybe ever. i don’t remember dreaming about him before. hard to dream about something that’s been dead to me.

blasting pinealon + magnesium-l-threonate is making me AWAKE as fuck. i’m lucid dreaming with my eyes open.

now, this is where things get interesting...

he was sat across from me at the table. no face. just a shape. & he was saying something but i couldn’t hear it. like the audio was cut. just his mouth moving and silence.

its like them old fbi interviews. the visual is clear but the audio is all muffled. like they don’t want you to hear it. very mainstream.

it feels way 2 real tho...

i woke up in the middle of the night, drenched... hands doing that thing where they shake but not from caffeine. i know i’m in fight or flight. but the adrenaline feels good.

stick with me.

i block out all of it... look for something that will relief the pain... i find the only good thing in my life...

popped a iceberg. sat on the edge of my bed in the dark. i stare into the abyss of my room. lovely.

but if i want to go deeper into this...

i realise one thing that’s been holding me back all these years...

i’m not creating a movement. i’m building a father.

its all intentional. with every post & pretty much everything i do.

i always try to downplay this. but i realise its all mental.

realistically...

it’s me trying to become the man who meant to lead the way. and be my male role model.

the man who should’ve showed me how to function as a man in this life.

he didn’t. so i’m doing it from scratch...

...inside myself. using psychology books and cia docs and jungian archetypes and caffeine and nicotine and sheer fucking will.

weirdly... he never came back after that.

he stays a mystery to me. i’m fine with it.

so...every morning i wake up and father myself.

i set my own standards & rules.

nobody taught me how to be a man. so i’m teaching myself in real time. publicly. at 4am. while you watch.

& maybe that’s why you’re still reading at this hour.

because you’re in the making of the same man i am.

from nothing. in the dark. alone.

honestly... it borderlines on psychosis. that’s why i love it so so much.

but...

its now or never.

do you understand?

g2Ø: final transmission

...

so that’s it.

me & cipheron. 1100mg of caffeine and 9h later. 2 minds that probably shouldn’t be left alone with stimulants and a wifi connection. but here we are…

this piece wasn’t planned. we was bouncing the ball back & forth to each other. spilling our minds onto this piece.

it was just... us. in the darkest hours of the night. saying the things that most guys think but will never admit because it’s easier to pretend you’re fine. i see too many mfs scared of their shadow nowdays.

& if you read this far... you already know you’re one of us.

you felt it. that tingly feeling inside your mind. its calling you.

the absent father. the sacrifice. the obsession that scares you because it doesn’t feel like a choice anymore. the version of yourself you killed to become this. the thing behind your eyes that you’ve only met a handful of times but you KNOW is the real you. paying the price of greatness...

you felt all of it. because you’re living all of it.

so here’s what i’ll say...

i’m not gonna beg you to sub up. that’s not how this works. you either feel it or you don’t

but everything me & cipheron poured into this piece? this is the surface layer.

the paid side is where the mask comes off completely. deep psychology. manipulation frameworks. copy breakdowns. attraction dynamics through jungian archetypes. the real game that doesn’t get posted for free because most mfs simply aren’t ready for it.

it’s $12/month. less than your shitty meal deal. & it has a direct correlation to success. win win.

tap here to sub up & unlock every deep piece we have ever written.

g2Ø: https://schizoelite.substack.com/subscribe

Cipheron: https://cipheron.substack.com/subscribe

& the schizo hub... that’s different.

it’s not some posts you read at night. that’s where you actually start levelling up.

i run the schizo hub, my personal “book of secrets” with everything i know and will ever know inside it. It all lives here.

the a-z of business/the mindset rewiring/the copywriting ascension/the nootropics stack/a gym demon protocol/tapping into female’s gaze/ the shadow integration work that took me 2 years of obsessive research to compile into a masterpiece/& many many more

every angle. nothing diluted for mass consumption.

it’s not for everyone. it’s specifically for guys who read this piece and felt the excitement.

is that you? if so...

tap here to join the schizo hub. ( https://www.skool.com/the-schizo-hub-8545/about )

also, feel free to checkout cipher’s mental game playbook.

it’s his personal framework designed for conditioning every cognition of your mind to align perfectly with the reality you want to create: mentalgameplaybook.com

its funny how all of this links together...

you’ve been creating an ideal man. to show yourself its possible...

now there is one.

use it or don’t. its your life after all

i’ll be up tonight. same time. tweaking out on more metabolic fuel & jazz tunes.

working on something new while the rest of the world sleeps and calls it living.

i might be turning my brain into mashed potatoes. but atleast i do what i love. anything other than this is disgusting anyway.

life is 2 short to not fully enjoy the fruits of your hard work.

now... you know how to. go out and enjoy it.

either way... i do ever stop.

stay schizo. always.

g2Ø × cipheron.