Three more rooms

Three things went up today that were not here yesterday.

The codex, which is the mythology written out properly for the first time — the pact, the Barrier, the one constraint the whole plot turns on — with the ending folded away behind a boundary you have to open on purpose.

The dream log, which is the original document from the morning of 26 August, in the words it was written in, with the typos fixed and nothing else touched.

And this journal, which is where the rest of it gets said.

None of that is the book. It is scaffolding, and scaffolding is not progress. But the scaffolding is finished now, and there is nothing left to build that would work as an excuse.