Find Your Army.

The Fourth Army: The Muckers. From the top of a long brick wall the view flies down over a brickworks and through cloud into a dead, foggy swamp. A face sinks in the mud. People coated in mud stand among the dead trees, talking at each other. The fog thins onto the wall, where workers dig mud into baskets and barrows. Said: “I wish you were more like your brother” “you were always a deadbeat”

The Third Army: The Gatherers. Below the wall, seen over the handles of a wheelbarrow, mud is collected and shaped into bricks. A woman is pulled from the mud. People stand half buried in mounds. At a market stall a woman holds out a coil of rope, and climbers start up the wall on ropes. Said: “Welcome, can you lend a hand?” “I told you this would happen.” “Weren't you raised better than this?” “It's their fault.” “I never asked them to do it.” “Find some support.”

The Second Army: The Builders & Catchers. Climbers haul themselves up the face of the wall on ropes, seen through the climber’s own hands. The climber looks back down past their feet at the ground far below, a hand reaches down from the top, and the view opens on a green valley below mountains. Said: “Don't look down yet.” “Give me your hand.”

The First Army: The Divine. A man stands on top of the wall above the clouds, looks down at his bare feet on the edge, and steps off. Past planets and stars he lands in a net held by smiling people in a starlit meadow, where others work at a bench of tools, and he walks on along a path through the grass. Said: “Welcome. We've got you.” “The illusion was yours. Live your truth.”

The Protocol Library. In a starlit field of grass a white fox fans out seven tails, looks around, then wraps its tails around itself into a cocoon.

Chapter 06: You choose what happens next. An old sketchbook drawn in sepia ink: a path over a hill, a pair of round spectacles, two people sitting on a hill, climbers roped to a wall, people at a workbench, and a closing map of the four armies’ landscape.