You are in The Observatory.
Ground you have walked is named. The rest is drawn but unnamed — it is waiting, not missing, and nothing is required of you to find it.
Every realm is named here, and its rooms fold open beneath it. The mark beside a name says which ground you have already walked.
Every door stays where you left it. Esc folds the map.
The bridge's window on the email house — sending domains, key names, audiences, broadcasts. Deliberately no send: an email is outward speech, and a send is a consent gate, never a convenience.