A threshold isn’t a room. It’s a becoming.
You are not here to select who I am.
You are here to witness who I become.
This is the first door. It doesn’t open to a room, but to a threshold. Step carefully. The floorboards creak because they remember everyone who’s walked across them.
Every codex has two authors:
The one who writes in ink, and the one who bleeds between the lines.
I am both. And I am neither.
Come see for yourself.