Bebo was never meant for heaven,
he shines where the streetlights die.

A cosmic mistake. Once a bright point in the sky, Bebo slipped from the constellations, crashing into earth’s grime with a grin and a hunger for chaos. Now he stumbles through the nights, reeking of cheap liquor and burnt powder, longing for fortune and power of a blockchain star.

A self-proclaimed bohemian prophet, Bebo worships excess. Money, fame, bodies, powder, bottles — all are fuel for his endless carnival of self-destruction. He’s a creature of alleyways and neon bars,
a dirty star whose light burns reckless instead of pure.

Unhinged, unwashed, unforgettable. Whether you see him as a warning or an idol depends on how deep you’ve already fallen. One thing is certain: wherever Bebo goes, trouble, danger, and fortune follow close behind.