[Mark's filming himself again, in a quiet corner of the library. He makes an effort to look at the camera head-on--to project trustworthiness--but his tone is quite subdued, all the same.]

'Evening.

I--ah--I know this is coming a bit late to help with everything that's happened. I'm truly sorry about that. But I'd appreciate a minute or two of everyone's time, all the same.

We all know events--or crashes, I guess--draw on aspects of our memories, or our worlds. Often the worst of them. The network is a wonderful tool for warning people, if one of us recognizes something familiar, but sometimes people don't hear in time, or are cut off. So. A while back, Souji and I hit upon the idea of collecting everyone's speculations about what dangers we might bring with us from our worlds, and putting it somewhere everyone could access it.

[Adding it to the network database, say, or the notebooks, although he's not going to mention that publicly.]

For instance, I came here from an underwater ruin full of superhuman madmen. [He winces a little as he says it. It's been years now, and it still sounds crazy, especially in brief like that.] I'm currently recording everything I can remember of the place, and when I'm done I'll put the file on the network.

I'm happy to talk now, or anytime. But if you want to write something up and share it anonymously, I've got a low-tech solution here. [He gestures at a heavy metal lockbox sitting on the table beside him.]

You can leave whatever you want here, and I'll come back for it later. Or just slip it under my door. I'm in room three, second floor. And I promise not to trace you.

[He's picked up some momentum and confidence--projects have that effect on him--but here he falters again.]

At the moment I've got no way of knowing whether what winds up here is trustworthy. I'm all right with that--I'd rather have a mass of information with some flaws than nothing at all--but I'd welcome suggestions to...streamline this. If anyone has them.

Thanks, everyone. Please be safe.