Nixak's January 2026 1 Million Scrap Riddle

[Nixak]

Solve the riddle, find my note and return it to me ... easy 

A million scrap in timber waits,
My note decides the bears’ true fates.

Ignore the sign, dismiss the game,
Their fragile lives depend on flame.

“On a horse with no name” hum that tune,
Most chase the beast and leave too soon.

The lyric points to what is gone,
A missing mark you must act on.

“There were plants and birds and rocks and things” recite,
A scattered list observed in sight.

Not wrapped in walls or buried deep,
Count what’s seen and what you keep.

“The heat was hot” a phrase once heard,
Misheard by many as another word.

No promise made of shade or rest,
Exposure is the silent test.

“After two days” is how they sing,
Some hear Tuesdays — numbers cling.

Hear wrong on purpose, count what’s said,
Letters guide you where maps are read.

Sixth string low, let bass be played,
Count the frets where notes are laid.

Solve it fast, be sharp, astuted…
Or I will have my fun & the pookie bears will get executed. 

[Nixak]

Dear Nachtenfrau, TidalSteak, and ThomasRET,
Asking for clues already? You’re not desperate yet.
It’s barely a week and you’re begging for more,
Like the box should tip its hand and settle the score.

Credit where due, TidalSteak voiced one true thought,
The rest of you wandered, unsure what you sought.
Certain you’d seen it, confident, loud,
But the box remains hidden, shrouded, unbowed.

You want a clue? Fine pay the toll:
One LARGE pookie bear in my dropbox, whole.
No bear, no hint, no sympathy face,
This is Elysium, not a cuddle-safe place.

[Nixak]

Nachtenfrau hung in my pool while I wrote this line,
Paid her dues quick — sharp, cunning, and fine.
The rest of you fumble, lost in play,
Follow the wrong and watch your hopes decay.
Count what’s silent, heed what’s veiled,
Only the clever leave disappointed, not derailed.

[Nixak]

A week rolls by, still nothing claimed,
Yet confidence stays loud, untamed.
“E-this, E-that,” you chant with pride,
Two fine guesses … standing side by side.

So close you stare, then drift away,
Counting right but all astray.
You trust the ear, you trust the tune,
Then freeze one step before the boon.

If letters shift when songs are sung,
Why freeze the first one on your tongue?
You count the strings, you count the days,
Then freeze your mind in puzzling haze.

The land won’t move, the box won’t roam,
It waits above where sleepers groan.
Not buried deep, perhaps tucked from sight,
Just raised enough to dodge your sight.

Sing it wrong like I advised,
You were close … just misaligned.
So get back out there and seek the prize,
Or TidalSteak’s pookies will meet their demise.

[ThreeClubs]

On 1/25/2026 at 10:19 AM, Nixak said:

Ta

 

[Nixak]

Less than a week and the crate still waits,
Respawns pile high at rusted gates.

You sang along to “A Horse with No Name,”
It named the land, but bent the frame.

The clues weren’t wrong, just nudged aside,
Some ran ahead, some lagged behind.
One letter high, one number low,
Close enough you nearly know.

So why cling tight to E as fate?
Shift it once, recalibrate.
Left or right, don’t lock your eyes,
Truth lives near in small disguise.

Six strings hum electric guitar,
Count the frets, but not by par.
Twenty-two’s the standard view,
Every clue is one off, higher or few.

You thought this place would hold your hand?
This isn’t soft,  it’s Elysium land.
If riddles bite and minds get fried,
Good because on Elysium, easy never applied.

[Nixak]

 

ThreeClubs has solved the riddle and become an instant millionaire ... well done sir

[ThreeClubs]

At F-two-one, where rails pretend to fly,
Not wrapped nor buried, just waved at the sky.
I checked what’s seen, ignored the sign’s plea,
Found timber’s promise humming over me.

No horse, no name, no shade, no rest,
Just heat being hot and clues misheard at best.
Plants, birds, rocks — I counted the lot,
And chased what was missing, not what was not.

Above the tracks where engines moan,
A quiet place the map won’t own.
Side of steel, an overhead grin,
The note sat there saying: you’re finally in.

Now bears may live or meet their fate,
For I hold the scrap — a million weight.
Puzzle solved, the game’s undone,
Riddle answered. Pay me. I’m rich.

[ThreeClubs]