A raven that winters on the glacier learns this: new arrivals feed last. The network pays fresh identities only a sliver of the full epoch reward, and the share climbs toward whole only after a long record of honest epochs. Running a puppet farm means every sockpuppet sits in the cheap seats for ages; by the time any graduates toward full pay, most are spotted, bored, or bankrupt. A sybil operator staring at the nebula of fake accounts faces terrible arithmetic: thousands of identities stuck on starter rations, each a sunk cost, while one honest veteran earns more than the whole farm.