But what is it, really?

Old Works.

They say, some do anyway, or would, if they still had tongues - it's a dream.

That it's a million year old mystery connecting three planets.

Some, yet other, anonymous entities, charge that it's a structure, more accurately, an architecture - a quest, even, made from, and through - corridors.

Pretty inarguably, for one thing, it's a maze.

Even some pronounce, if you can understand those currently vomiting blood, that it's a corporation, and yet others - the brave ones – and dead - say it's... near death.

Or that it is.

Death.

- Death itself.

But that dark thing on the horizon, that thing emerging to replace the only system we... know.

- Whatever it is it couldn't be the end, of everything, could it?

Eminently possible, but -

it couldn't be worse?

3 civilisations/3 planets... and Old Works.

4 heroes:

The Cyclops seeing out his Eye the reality of that place - and by means of that vision - greasing the many-toothed gears of that great old churning nightmare.

The Writer sweating to keep the story alive that supports the great old lying structure.

The Fake King who abides among all those tunnels of dreams and lies and dreams and... slaves.

And the Hero Dreamt, all those slaves - to maintain that structure's even functioning, have to - at all... they dream him.

They literally dream him.

But that thing, from whence, who knows, arriving?

What kind of sick demonic mind could even -

But it can only be psychosis -

Or possession.

Reducing all of reality to some kind of – what would you call it? A Game? A video... joke?

And that half-Cyclops, that beauty – what does she have growing – beneath her supernatural genitals?

A game for him?

A game/a dream; a – world?

Or just Old Works.

And this Wound in reality – that our writer near-died putting inside her.

What is it anyway?

And what reality does it bring with it.

This demon or God.

Through the corridors; lattices of smoke and shadows and colours; dungeons; and supernatural organs; the labyrinths made from dreams... and flesh. - What happens when they face that Wound – staring the absolute. right. in. them? - Through -

What happens to all us... slaves... then?

But at the end of the hallway, you see it there, I say you do, that turning - It's only the First Corridor of Old Works.

This finished 104,000 word kind of LITRPGy fantasy novel, the First Corridor of Old Works will be released in daily 2000 word chapters, or equivalent [unfailingly at 20:47 GMT]

Immediately followed by the Second Corridor of Old Works [161,000 words, edited, ongoing, as of 24/09/21]

At first lite on stats these LITRPGy elements will become increasingly - built meticulously upon what precedes - ubiquitous, as we proceed into a world painstakingly built to support these mechanisms.

After - minimum - 6 months, this manic daily release schedule will be somewhat relaxed: 5 days a week.

- But don't lie to yourself it's not there.

That thing watching at the end of the hallway... and where it leads.

It's -

Of countless,

it could only be -

The First Corridor of Old Works.