The charts glowed red on Alan’s multiple monitors, an unbroken sea of collapsing currencies. Headlines screamed chaos: “Emerging Market Meltdown,” “Hyperinflation Devours South America,” “African Nations Abandon Fiat.”

Alan leaned back in his chair, the taste of stale coffee bitter on his tongue. He’d seen crashes before, but this was different. It wasn’t just a country or two—it was a global unraveling. Nations pegged to the dollar were unpegging, digital reserves were being frozen, and central banks were scrambling to stay afloat.

His trading terminal pinged: another alert. The Turkish lira had just dropped 50% against the dollar overnight. He tapped the keyboard, glancing at the data stream.

“Turkey’s gone,” he muttered, shaking his head.

The door to his apartment creaked open, and his wife, Lena, peeked in. “You’ve been at this all night. Any wins?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Wins? Not exactly. Profits, sure—but at what cost? He’d shorted the peso, the rand, the baht, betting on their collapse. It was cold, calculated, and brutally effective. Yet each time his account balance rose, he couldn’t shake the image of people on the ground—families watching their life savings turn to dust.

“I don’t know,” he said finally, rubbing his eyes. “It’s hard to feel good about any of this.”

She stepped closer, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t save the world, Alan. But maybe you can help us survive it.”

Survive it. That’s all anyone was doing now.

Another ping. The Brazilian real had dipped 30%. He hesitated. It was a clear play—short it before the government announced emergency measures. But this time, he hesitated too long. The price stabilized, and the opportunity vanished.

He exhaled sharply, his fingers drumming the desk. Was he losing his edge? Or was it guilt, creeping in like a shadow he couldn’t shake?

Lena’s voice cut through his thoughts. “Why don’t you do something different? Something that actually builds?”

He looked at her, confused. “What do you mean?”

“You’re always tearing things down. Betting on failure. What if you found something worth believing in? An investment that actually helps people?”

He scoffed. “In this market?”

But her words lingered as he turned back to his screens. He pulled up a different chart—one he hadn’t looked at in weeks. Local co-op currencies were gaining traction in rural parts of Africa, small economies banding together to trade goods without the collapsing fiat system.

It was risky, laughably small-scale compared to his usual trades, but...

Alan hesitated, then clicked. He shifted funds into a decentralized platform supporting these grassroots economies. It wasn’t a big bet, but it was something.

As the hours passed, the world outside continued to burn. But for the first time in years, Alan felt like he’d struck a balance—not just between profit and loss, but between surviving and living.