Chapter one, applied
This site has a Tangent Universe
Sparrow’s first chapter says a Tangent Universe is a copy of the world, extremely unstable, that sustains itself for no longer than several weeks before it collapses. This site has one. It opens when a jet engine falls through the home page - nobody can say where it comes from - or through the door at the bottom of this page. It lasts exactly as long as the film’s: 28 days, 6 hours, 42 minutes and 12 seconds.
The door
The engine falls when it falls. If it has not fallen for you, or you would rather not wait, the door is here.
What happens inside
A clock appears under the site’s header and counts down in Frank’s format. For the first week nothing else changes, except that the site is no longer quite stable: images move like water. Then, following the book, water and metal arrive - the Artifact turns up on pages it has no business being on, and the odd paragraph has turned to water until you look at it directly. In the third week come the visions: Frank in the header in the small hours, doors that open through a wormhole, words that briefly read backwards. In the last week the copy is collapsing, and looks it.
Nothing is removed and nothing is broken. Every page stays readable, every link goes where it says, and a paragraph that has turned to water clears the moment you hover or focus it. The Tangent Universe is a mood, not a malfunction.
How it ends
When the clock reaches 00:00:00:00 the copy collapses. The page goes to water, then to white, and you are back on the primary site with nothing left of it - except one line, once, under the header: you dreamed something; you can’t remember what. The Manipulated Living wake the same way.
You can also leave at any time. Wake up is in the bar on every page. Waking by choice leaves no dream.
What is stored, and where
One entry in your browser’s local storage: when you entered, how many times you have visited the home page since the engine last fell, and whether you have a dream to be told. Nothing leaves your browser, nothing is sent to this site’s servers or anyone else’s, and search engines never enter. If your browser refuses storage, you simply stay in the Primary Universe.
The four weeks
- Unstable: the clock is running; images move like water.
- Water and metal: the Artifact turns up; paragraphs turn to water until looked at.
- Visions: Frank in the header at night; wormholes between pages; words read backwards.
- Collapsing: the last week. Everything above, and the clock has turned.