They never
changed
their face.
The Moai stood on the edge of the world for eight hundred years. Empires rose, storms came, oceans swallowed ships, and the stone faces never once flinched.
Now ten thousand of them wake up onchain, each wearing a different life: a pirate's coat, a gentleman's hat, a luchador's mask. The lives change. The stare never does. That is the whole religion.
