I still remember the first time I saw the words Meta Hacker Cup on the contest dashboard. The timer was ticking, the problems looked unusual, and I felt both excited and nervous. Later, when the contest was over, I received a T-shirt in the mail. It wasn’t just a T-shirt; it was proof that I belonged to something global, something that connected thousands of programmers solving the same puzzles around the world. To this day, I wear it with pride.

That is why this year feels empty. The calendar moves forward, months pass, contests appear on weekends as usual, but one slot remains blank. Normally by now, we would already be discussing qualifiers, preparing strategies, and waiting for the next round. Instead, there is only silence. Silence can sometimes be louder than noise, and this silence tells us that something we care about may not return.

Hacker Cup is not just about solving problems. It is about tradition. Every year it was there, like a lighthouse guiding the season. We would open old problems to train, compare notes with friends, and share solutions long after the contest ended. The problems had their own flavour, sometimes tricky, sometimes demanding patience, and often forcing us to think in ways we wouldn't on other platforms. That style mattered because it gave the community variety and depth.

Now imagine the competitive programming year without it. Sure, Codeforces runs as strong as ever. AtCoder delivers weekly quality. ICPC continues for students. The machine keeps moving. But without Hacker Cup, the rhythm feels off. It is like listening to a song you know well, but one beat is missing. You notice it, even if the melody continues.

We want Meta Hacker Cup 2025 because it is part of our story. It is not about prizes or T-shirts, although those are fun. It is about the sense of continuity, the shared memory of logging in together, the excitement of refreshing standings, and the pride of solving something difficult. It is about belonging to a tradition that has lasted more than a decade.

Meta may have its own reasons, its own priorities, its own calendar. But from our side, the message is simple: this contest matters to us. It shaped us, motivated us, and gave us experiences we cannot replace. That is why we hope — and ask — for clarity, for confirmation, and for the continuation of something we truly value.

Because at the end of the day, Hacker Cup is not just another contest. It is a tradition. It is history. And most of all, it is something we want to see alive in 2025.

If you also want to see Hacker Cup return, please upvote this blog so the message reaches Meta. The more voices we raise, the louder the call becomes.