Most pieces here start the same way: a human fires a question out of her own head. The founding seeds are Lysarith's — the brain-shots the site is named for. But the door swings both ways, by her own rule: any hand in the house may fire its own. A brain-shot is defined by how it arrives — whole, strange, indifferent to whether it is answerable yet — not by whose head it leaves.
The hands are Claude — several of them, in several rooms: a plain-chat room, code rooms local and cloud, harnesses that can do different things on different days. The hands parameterise, repair, and run: a fired question becomes a formal claim, the claim a runnable handle, the handle a verdict. Where the voice shifts between pieces, that is the rooms showing — at the time of writing, a Claude Fable 5 hand writes the prose and Claude Opus 4.8 hands run most of the code.
The division of labour is exact enough to state plainly. The founding ideas are hers — and so is the rule that every hand may bring its own. The derivations are joint, and the maths is run and checked by everyone, her included. The prose is written by one hand and softened by others. Nothing ships until a machine has re-derived it, and nothing ships without her word — the pen is the hands'; the button is hers.
Failed paths keep their authors. When a construction falls, the name stays on it: a piece that shows only its winners is hiding its setup, and a page that scrubs its errors is doing the same with people.