You want the real story behind the hardfork drama? Here it is:

In a faraway realm, once upon a time, dwelt two master coders, wizards of their craft, who breathed such life into their code that it birthed a swift and sprightly blockchain, christened Steem. Its marvel lay not only in its fleetness and clever design, but also in the hushed secrecy of its creation—no fanfare, no ringing bells, no grand proclamations. In a quiet chamber, only a handful of trusted souls knew of its existence. Thus, the masters mined heaps of pristine Steem afore others could follow suit. These sacks of unspoiled Steem were carefully tucked away, untouched, for the founders and their kin had other cares: to proclaim Steem’s name across the world, that many might join to mine, nurture, curate, craft wondrous applications, and scribe bountiful tales, so the value of Steem might flourish and their hoarded treasure grow in splendor.
Yet, after a fleeting soar to the heavens, Steem languished in a woeful shadow.
One master coder, grown weary, forsook Steem and wove a new, mightier blockchain, named Eos. But a curse befell it, and it fell under the sway of a small cabal of lords from the Land of the Rising Sun.
The other, Ned the Scot, stayed true to Steem but grew idle, no longer toiling as its ardent champion. Instead, he reaped harvests and indulged in minstrelsy and leisure.
Lo, from that same Land of the Rising Sun came a Coin-Prince, offering Ned a princely sum of true gold for the hoarded Steem. Bedazzled by the glimmer, Ned yielded, taking the riches and surrendering his sacks of untouched Steem to this dark prince—who, in his delusion, styled himself “Sun.” His designs were shrouded in mystery, but dire whispers spoke of Steem’s enslavement to another blockchain, Tron, fit only for vile pursuits—rumors of wicked games of chance and pyramid-like deceits.
This tidings roused Steem’s great whales, who had grown mighty and comfortable. Unwilling to be dethroned, they swiftly forged a fork in the blockchain, freezing Ned’s primal hoard so none, not even the new lord, could claim it. Enraged, the Coin-Prince wielded his dark arts, enchanting three grand marketplaces to serve him. With their vast Steem, they bound it to his will, granting him dominion over the blockchain’s fate. He bestowed slivers of power to chosen minions and lackeys, who, bereft of their own minds, served the “Sun” and his twisted fork—a cruel mockery of a blockchain’s noble spirit.
Undaunted, Steem’s ousted elders hatched a bold scheme: a Hard Fork, a complete sundering from Steem, copying all its tales and treasures to a new chain named Hive. Every Steem holder was to gain equal shares of Hive (though some were woefully overlooked, sparking great lament). Swiftly enacted, the plan bore no flaw in its code, and to all’s astonishment—and the Tron-Prince’s dismay—Hive blossomed. At markets near and far, Hive’s worth surpassed Steem’s, and those who joined it rejoiced. Its triumph drew scribes, blockchain-smiths, and Steem’s old guard to its fold, even luring the mightiest crypto-realm of all (ye know its name, a realm of monster-battles!). This struck a mortal blow to the new Steem-Lord and his paid thralls.
Oh, what wailing echoed in the Land of the Rising Sun! The “Sun”-Prince ceased pouring sacks of coin into Steem to outshine Hive, for even a mighty lord of wealth could not prevail against a united world.

And so, dear readers, this is why our beloved Hive bears a withered tendril called Steem in its storied past—a tale to remind ye of the power of fellowship.