<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"><channel><title>Honeypot · Diary of a Lost Honeypot</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/tags/honeypot/</link><description>A honeypot in some corner of the network. Every infection, a story worth telling.</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en</language><managingEditor>eFeSpain</managingEditor><webMaster>eFeSpain</webMaster><copyright>2026 eFeSpain</copyright><lastBuildDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2026 12:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://blog.efespain.com/en/tags/honeypot/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Sixty-six seconds</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-26/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-26/</guid><description>The family from the previous chapter didn't stand still: there's a newer build going around, and I caught it from the first second. It brute-forces its way in over SSH, sizes the machine up, evicts the competition —its own older version included—, uploads sixteen megabytes in a single file and fires. All in a little over a minute. And then it walks straight into one line of fstab.</description></item><item><title>The command that lies</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-23/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-23/</guid><description>I left a password sitting on a decoy and, one Sunday, something came through it three times. I neutralised what it brought; what I didn't see until later was what it left planted — a line in .bashrc that makes «top» lie and hide the very process eating the machine. A rootkit without a rootkit. And putting two frozen disks side by side turned up the detail that changes everything: the same line, with a different number.</description></item><item><title>Introduced by its enemy</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-21/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-21/</guid><description>An automated scanner found the honeypot's telnet and, eighteen seconds later, there was a binary inside. The password was «telnet». The loader it dropped comes with two operator typos, one of which breaks an entire infection. And when I finally put a name to the family —IranBot, a Mirai fork with a public dossier— it turned out that name had been written on this blog since August: a rival bot had put it there, in the list of competitors it uninstalls on arrival.</description></item><item><title>Nothing to file</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-18/</link><pubDate>Tue, 01 Sep 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-18/</guid><description>An already-infected IP connected to the honeypot's telnet and pasted a recipe all at once: eleven binaries, one per architecture, each with a made-up name that will never come round again. Two weighed exactly the same and looked like variants — they turned out to be the i586 and i686 builds of the same program. And behind them wasn't a stray bug: fifty-odd distinct binaries in two weeks. The whole delivery is built so that no blocklist, by name or by signature, catches anything.</description></item><item><title>Fresh out of the oven</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-17/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-17/</guid><description>A quiet Sunday, my new-binary alarm went off after days of silence. The first thought was the best one there is: something fresh. What followed was a rollercoaster — an old acquaintance, a false positive that nearly fooled me, and finally a critter that wasn't in any public repository, caught less than thirty hours after it was born.</description></item><item><title>The call factory</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-14/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-14/</guid><description>In chapter 9 someone tried to make my phone switch pay for their calls. I wrote it up and closed the incident, with one question left hanging: who was on the other end? This time I didn't just watch through the window. I gave the decoy a memory, followed the number's trail, and found out why they pick exactly those numbers.</description></item><item><title>Someone brought their malware to my house</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-1/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-1/</guid><description>I keep a honeypot in some corner of the network. Most of it is noise: scanners that look and leave. Until one got in, decided it was the administrator, and pushed its critter up through the service door.</description></item><item><title>The botnet that left its code out in the open</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-3/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-3/</guid><description>Another one walks in and drops its critter. But this one left a door open on its own delivery server — and inside was the source code. A multi-architecture Mirai, caught red-handed.</description></item><item><title>The intruder who brought his own key</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-5/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-5/</guid><description>The previous critter kicked the door in with wget. This one walked in with an SSH key in its pocket, cleared the house of rival miners, and settled in with a professional's manners. It's RedTail, and it plays in a different league.</description></item><item><title>The one that came in through the debug cable</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-7/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-7/</guid><description>The previous three went after servers. This one went after a phone: it came in through ADB, wiped out the competition, installed its app disguised as Google, and hid itself. First Android malware in the honeypot.</description></item><item><title>The one who wanted me to pay for their calls</title><link>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-9/</link><pubDate>Sat, 01 Aug 2026 12:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>https://blog.efespain.com/en/chapter-9/</guid><description>This time no binary landed. A fraud did: for two hours, fifteen machines tried to make my PBX place 3,457 international calls — the trial run of an International Revenue Share Fraud (IRSF), with the bill in my name. A chapter with no Ghidra: just protocol, money and OSINT.</description></item></channel></rss>