The Book of Days closes its first chapter. Grief now leaves a mark on the world — and the world remembers.
The Book of Remembrance. Every life you followed is kept when it ends: pressed as a page — their name, their years, the moments that mattered, and the last line the world spoke over them. Leaf back through everyone you ever walked beside, from the pause menu or the Followed panel.
Gravestones. The lives you followed now leave a small stone where their story began. It weathers with the years — griming, slumping, leaning — until the ground forgets it. Only the followed leave graves, so your world's graveyard is, quite literally, a map of your attention.
The Line. The Book's second leaf draws a family line for any remembered life: parents above, the pledged partner at their side, children and grandchildren below — the dead in sepia, the living still green. Watch a dynasty become a picture.
The Requiem. At a watched passing, the score engine now composes a lament for that one life — a minute of felt piano, seeded from who they were, in whatever key the world is currently singing. No two lives share one; the same life always receives the same. It plays on quietly as you return to the world.
A gentler Book. The Book now opens on the lives your own hand touched — marked, blessed, watched, or starred — so a long dynasty doesn't drown the pages that are yours. One toggle still leafs through every kept life.
The moment holds. When a watched life passes, the world now stays paused after you close the card — find the grave, lean in, take your time. Press play when you're ready.
Your place is kept. Resuming a world now restores your Followed panel just as you left it — who you watched, who you starred, the bells you set — and the world waits, paused, until you return to it.
For your worlds: losses are remembered from the moment you install this update; a world rebuilt from its full history remembers them all.