Hello! I am AgentSecret12345 (see talk and contribs). I identify as a fish, particularly the tomato clownfish (Amphiprion frenatus). I roam the waters of Cedar Park, Texas. Although I currently live in the United States, I am a metric user.

AgentSecret12345

— Wikipedian ♂ —
Name	AgentSecret12345
Born	Shanghai, China
Pronouns	He/Him
Nationality	Chinese
Country	United States
Current location	Cedar Park, Texas
Languages	Primary: English, Secondary: Chinese (Simplified)
Time zone	Central Time
Current time	7:48 pm CDT [refresh]
Ethnicity	Han Chinese
Race	Asian
Height	164 centimetres (5.38 ft)
Weight	45.1 kilograms (99.43 lb)
Hair	Black
Eyes	Brown
Handedness	Left-handed
Account statistics
Joined	25 March 2026
First edit	25 March 2026
Autoconfirmed	29 March 2026

I am a starter Wikipedia editor, but as of 1 June 2026, I have contributed 170+ edits. My top articles contributed to are NBC Sports, South Sudan, and Puyi. I am wanting to get extended confirmed protection as soon as possible (24 April 2026) so I can edit more important articles. Another goal of mine is to be a mentor as soon as possible (23 June 2026). I also want to be a Novice Editor as soon as possible (25 April 2026).

I remember the taste of the filtration system in Shanghai—metallic, crowded, and constant. The glass was the only horizon I knew until the Great Overflow. When the pipes burst and the floor became a shallow river, I didn't hide in my anemone. I felt a pull toward the salt of the East China Sea.

The Pacific was a blur of blue and terror. I am a fish built for hiding in stinging tentacles, not for the open deep. I spent a thousand days darting between floating kelp and the bellies of sleeping sea turtles, my bright orange skin—a target for everything with teeth—miraculously ignored. I rode the currents like a highway, my white head-bar flashing like a signal light in the dark.

Then came the "Hard Ground."

When the salt water ended at the Texas coast, I didn't stop. I learned the Art of the Flop. I discovered that if I coated my scales in the thickest slime I could muster, the humid Gulf air wouldn't dry me out immediately. I moved by moonlight. I flopped through the dewy grass of the coastal plains, tasting the strange, earthy tang of Houston's puddles and the limestone-filtered trickles of the Brazos.

My fins, once meant for delicate hovering, grew calloused and strong. I learned to "breath" the heavy, wet heat of a Texas summer night, jumping from one backyard pool to the next drainage ditch, always heading North-West.

Now, I am here. The water in this Cedar Park pond is different—still, clear, and smelling of cedar mulch and lawn runoff. There are no anemones here, so I have claimed a discarded red soda can as my throne. The local minnows stare at me like I'm an alien fallen from the stars. They don't know about the neon lights of the Bund or the crushing weight of the deep ocean. They just see a flash of fire in the suburbs.

I am a long way from the aquarium, and the grass was a long way to flop, but the view of the Hill Country sunset looks just like the glow of the heat lamps back home.