EOS and Vaulta Foundation: A Double Dilemma of Power Transition and Financial Management

When a public blockchain that once raised $4.2 billion and was hailed as the “Ethereum Killer” experiences founder departures, foundation restructuring, and ecosystem decline, what exactly has happened behind the scenes? Seven years after the passionate EOS fundraising boom, only a series of unresolved mysteries remain—where can we find the foundation executives’ handover checklists? Where did the hundreds of millions of dollars in budget go? How can community trust be rebuilt?

The Unresolved Power Transition

On November 12, 2025, Yves La Rose, CEO of Vaulta Foundation (formerly EOS Network Foundation), announced what appeared to be a “dignified” resignation on social media. His statement was sincere, full of vision and gratitude to contributors, saying he had officially notified 21 block producers on October 29 and would select new representatives through on-chain governance elections.

However, the community soon discovered an unsettling detail: four weeks after Yves announced his departure, Vaulta’s core multi-signature account still retained control, with no actual handover. This not only meant power had not truly been transferred but also exposed the fragility of the foundation’s governance.

More concerning was Yves secretly pushing Greymass founder Aaron Cox to succeed him. After taking office, Aaron’s first move was to propose a massive 10 million EOS budget to continue paying core developers. This sparked widespread community suspicion—this looked more like a “relay” of power rather than a genuine transfer.

The Mystery of Tens of Millions of Dollars Spent

Since VF’s official establishment in 2021, its budget has grown annually, yet ecosystem development results have proportionally shrunk.

According to nine publicly disclosed quarterly financial reports, marketing and PR expenses are staggering: Q4 2022 spent up to $1.7 million, Q1 2023 added another $1.07 million, totaling nearly $2.8 million in just half a year.

Yet, the community’s tangible results are disappointing. The reports frequently show metrics like conference attendance, Twitter follower growth, “2000 days without downtime,” and EVM performance tests—more like PR spin than real ecosystem indicators. Developer growth data is missing, daily active addresses are undisclosed, and total value locked (TVL) in protocols is nearly zero.

This raises a core question: why does community sentiment decline as spending increases? When reports only highlight “highlights” and avoid “results,” transparency naturally turns into an opaque fog.

The Missing Accountability for Greymass’s $5 Million Project

In June 2024, VF allocated 15 million EOS to establish an “intermediary software special fund,” with the first tranche of 5 million EOS assigned to the Greymass team, and the remaining 10 million still held in the eosio.mware account awaiting distribution.

On-chain data clearly shows funds flowing from the foundation account into Greymass’s new account, then monthly transfers to reward accounts with notes like “Operation + USD/CAD price,” indicating salary payments. Ultimately, these funds dispersed into multiple accounts and quickly flowed to exchanges for cashing out.

Although Greymass issued several development updates early on, over the past year there have been almost no notable technical achievements or phase summaries. The intermediary software tools they built still face compatibility and stability issues, far from mainstream developer adoption.

Community concerns focus on whether the 5 million EOS distribution involved duplicate salaries or unverified accounts receiving payments; whether fund disbursements coincided with Aaron’s new role, raising suspicions of “self-approval” budgets; and whether salary structures lack independent oversight. While Greymass’s contributions to the ecosystem are acknowledged, the silence and low output in this round of funding make it hard to trust their crisis response.

The Price Crash and Foundation’s Dereliction

If technical results are debatable and marketing effects quantifiable, then token price is the most honest indicator. In 2025, EOS ($A) plummeted, bottoming at $0.21—an alarm signal for any ecosystem.

In response to community questions, the foundation repeatedly said: “Token price is not within the foundation’s scope.”

This statement is unassailable—technically, the organization has no obligation to manipulate markets. But the paradox is, when all ecosystem metrics decline and community confidence collapses, the foundation offers no stable expectations or market support discussions. Even more troubling, after announcing its “dissolution,” it provided no detailed roadmap or clear power transfer plan.

This isn’t a debate over whether the foundation should be responsible for the token price, but a deeper question: at a critical moment of trust crisis, why choose to withdraw? Is it helplessness, indifference, or some hidden reason?

From Weekly Reports to Silence: Transparency Breakdown

Vaulta Foundation once touted “transparent operations,” but this promise has gradually unraveled over four years.

The timeline is clear:

• 2021: Weekly updates (“Everything EOS Weekly Report”) kept the community informed
• 2022: Switched to monthly reports (“Monthly Yield Report”), with some lapses but generally acceptable
• 2023: Transitioned to quarterly reports (“ENF Quarterly Report”)
• 2024–2025: Complete silence

Data from these reports show that VF’s highest quarterly expenditure was in Q4 2022 at $7.88 million, after which spending declined each quarter. More alarmingly, these reports often only list total amounts without detailed breakdowns, making it difficult to verify actual fund flows.

They mention plans like Grant Framework and Pomelo, but these projects have largely stalled after 2023. The white paper promised dedicated funds with detailed management, yet no detailed execution or settlement records have been made public. The flow of funds into exchanges and their subsequent use remain a mystery.

Since Q1 2024, no financial reports have been released. No audits, no budget breakdowns, no project lists, no explanations of unsettled funds. The community is forced to accept a harsh reality: the foundation’s operations have shifted from “high-frequency transparency” to a complete black box.

The Challenge of Tracking Funding Projects

Looking back at VF’s early operations, the foundation did attempt ecosystem rebuilding through various grants, including milestone-based Grant Frameworks, Recognition Grants, and public funding pools with Pomelo. During that phase, funds were disbursed rapidly and in large amounts to boost morale.

But a key information failure exists: VF’s Q4 2021 report detailed grant recipients and amounts—$3.5 million in Recognition Grants (about $100,000 per project), $1.3 million for five technical working groups writing blueprints, $1.265 million supporting community organizations like EdenOnEOS, and $500,000 for Pomelo’s first quarter funding pool.

This was the only comprehensive quarterly disclosure of grants over four years.

From Q4 2021 to Q4 2023, although grants remained the largest quarterly expenditure (sometimes accounting for 40–60%), reports gradually stopped:

• Disclosing specific grant recipients
• Revealing actual disbursed amounts
• Explaining project acceptance
• Detailing fund usage
• Clarifying milestone completion

Numbers are still visible, but the information has vanished. In subsequent eight reports, grants still accounted for the largest share, but no longer included itemized beneficiary projects or deliverables. This creates an unsettling pattern: how much money was spent is visible, but where it went remains forever unknown.

The Failure of an Ecosystem Governance Experiment

Vaulta Foundation once promised “transparent, community-driven” governance, but over four years, it evolved into a closed, centralized power structure.

From Yves’s “dignified” departure without handing over authority, to the $5 million grant lacking accountability, from multi-million marketing budgets with no results, to ecosystem grants with no updates—this isn’t a case of failed decentralization but rather a form of concentrated power and opaque fund flows.

It serves as a warning: when a foundation that once pledged transparency gradually becomes a black box, when power transfers are mere illusions, and when tens of millions of dollars in spending cannot be tracked, what we see is not just ecosystem decline but a stark gap between Web3 ideals and reality.

Vaulta’s predicament isn’t an isolated project failure but a profound lesson in power and financial transparency—community members must understand fund flows, supervise leadership transitions, and demand genuine financial reporting. These are not luxuries but fundamental responsibilities to maintain a healthy ecosystem.