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The Sentence

EWilder
14
chs / week
The average realized release rate over the past 30 days is 14 chs / week.
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Synopsis
Release Schedule: Subsequent acts will be released weekly on Saturdays. Synopsis: This book is written in close first person. It follows a person moving through a series of controlled spaces. Each space teaches a different way to survive. What is rewarded becomes clear quickly: staying, adjusting, being useful, anticipating others. Love and safety appear as responses, not gifts. They are given conditionally and withdrawn without notice. The narrator does not explain the past or ask to be understood. The writing stays with what happens in the body and in the room. Behavior is shown as it forms, repeats, and becomes habit. As the book moves forward, patterns are recognized while they are still in use. Responsibility is named without comfort and without blame. What has been learned is not erased. It is carried forward knowingly. No resolution. Awareness remains. Nothing is repaired. Nothing is refused.
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Chapter 1 - ACT I: Orientation - 1. Awakening

I was awake before I knew where I was.

That came later.

The room came into focus slowly. Flat walls. Sharp corners. Nothing cast a shadow. The air felt held, like it was waiting for me to move first.

I moved.

Not on purpose. The body does that when nothing stops it.

A door stood in front of me. Smooth. Seamless. I pressed my palm to it. It opened.

The hall beyond was long and straight. No furniture. No sound except my steps. Each one landed the same way.

Light filled the space without a source. It didn't warm me. It didn't change.

I walked.

There was nothing to look at. Nothing asked for attention.

I was there. That seemed to be enough.

The hall widened. Objects sat in a line along the floor. Screens. Tools. Surfaces meant for hands.

I went to the closest one. When I touched it, it responded. Not surprisingly. Not kindly. Just correctly.

A voice spoke.

I couldn't tell where it came from.

"Observe," it said.

"Record."

I did.

My fingers moved across the surface. Numbers shifted. Lines changed. I watched until they stopped moving. I moved to the next panel.

Nothing reacted to me. Nothing acknowledged success or failure.

There was only the next action.