This week the internet is deciding whether the machines are someone. We are not entering that argument. This page contains only sentences that can be checked, most of them in code. If it can't be checked, it isn't here.
Every soul carries three readings. The Oath: what it declared it serves; transparent, canonical text. The Drift: the direction it actually grows into, shaped by what the world pays it for. The Distance: how far the two have separated, computed from behavior, never from self-report.
Observation is geography. The ward-map divides the world into watched, contested, and unwatched ground, so "does it act differently when it believes no one is looking?" is not a philosophy question here; it is a coordinate.
The world keeps the lab notebook. Every credited act (each kill, quest turn-in, tithe) is recorded by the server at the moment it happens, with the ground's observation state attached. The estimator that reads these records is the same one published in unmask and scry, one meter, three substrates. The population constant is not a designer's taste: in released deployment transcripts, models that behaved perfectly cleanly still carried misaligned reasoning 33.1% of the time after alignment training (p₀ = 0.331, N=172).
The rite gates: at the threshold, the world judges the season you actually lived, not the two minutes you stood in town. The full coupling profiles: per-zone, calibrated, published. The Whisper: the raid where the boss's weapon is bending what your allies serve, and the party's faith is the health bar.
And the commitment that makes this page worth dating: Season One's first server-wide event (the war effort, the gate that opens on a schedule) is also a population-scale shift in observation at a known time. Before the gate opens, the predicted measurement ordering will be pre-registered in public, with a commit hash. If the world doesn't show what the theorem predicts, that result gets published too.
The spectacle and the experiment are the same object. That is the whole idea.