A wake is a watch kept late — sitting up with something so it isn’t left alone. The last wake is the final hour of that watch, when the room has thinned out and only the people who really care are still awake.
In Chinese: 守夜 — to keep the night. That is roughly the hour these lists were made in.
Each ledger starts with one title — the thing that set off the search — then follows it outward: the same universe, the same cast, the older work it is quoting.
Titles that turn up on two ledgers are marked full circle. The shelf folds back on itself more often than you would think.
Stamps are yours. They live on this device until you make an account.
Half-remembered plot, a face you can’t name, a title with no subtitles anywhere. Someone here has already gone looking.
Cormorant Garamond for titles, Crimson Pro for reading, Noto Serif SC for the Chinese, Inter for the small clerical type.
Night ink, seal red, old gold, lamp-lit paper. Each ledger adds one colour of its own.
Streaming notes were checked by hand and go stale — licences move. Corrections are welcome and get folded straight into the ledger.
Ink washes drift on the GPU only; nothing animates on scroll if your system asks for reduced motion.