The Render showed the cycle in miniature: a spawn, a split, a regather — and the new box was gone by the end of every loop. Those were rehearsals. Here the casting runs for real: the new boxes stay. The wheel keeps pouring track onto the wall, the box world grows in your hands, the numbers thin and scatter — and one figure never moves: the sum. Watch entropy climb in the open as the distribution spreads. Then watch the other half of the story: a walker crossing this world with two legs, and the leg nearer the pile counting slower — so the walk turns. Nothing pulls it. The counting turns it. That is gravity, manifest, in a universe that is expanding while it happens.
The Unified State does not sit inside the picture; it casts the picture — the wheel onto the wall, quanta by quanta. What lands must not break the books. So the void thins and the pile holds, the spread grows and the sum does not, and every path through the world leans toward where the keeping costs most. Expansion, entropy and gravity are not three forces. They are three lines of the same audit.
A small universe of boxes, dealt a fixed total. The wheel casts: whole planes of new boxes land at random stations, on random axes — chance choosing where, law choosing what: every landing splits its neighbors' sums into thirds, permanently. The world grows from a few dozen boxes toward two thousand; the mean number per box falls; the spread of the distribution — the entropy, read in bits — climbs toward its ceiling. And through all of it the copper figure does not move. Nothing anyone measures locally is conserved; the whole is. When the frame fills, recast and run it again — the same fate, never the same universe.
Hold the casting still for a moment and put a pile in the world — a region where the books are heavy and the counting runs slow. Now launch walkers past it. Each walker is two legs and a direction; each leg advances at the local rate; and the update rule is the child's sentence made literal: the slow leg turns you. A fast walker grazes the pile and leans a little. A slower one leans hard. Slower still, and the walk wraps — it has leaned so long it can no longer leave. No pulling appears anywhere in the code, and you can read the two legs' rates live as they differ: the whole of the turning is that difference.
Now everything together. The wheel casts and the void grows and thins — entropy up, mean down, sum still. The pile at the center does not thin: the regathering wins inside it, so its books stay gathered while new track pours in around it — a bound island in a stretching sea. And the walker circles the pile, leaning on every step of its slow leg, indifferent to the expansion — because its whole arena is the island, and the island does not stretch. This is the claim of the whole corpus in one frame: expansion is the casting, matter is the kept number, gravity is the cost of keeping it — and all three run on one sum that never breaks.
Expansion, measured since 1929, accelerating, adding distance between unbound things while bound things hold their size. Conservation, never once caught failing. Entropy's climb as a statistical fact of conserved quantities spread across growing state-spaces — Boltzmann's reading, standing since the 1870s. Clocks slower in deeper potentials, from Pound–Rebka to a millimetre. Light leaning down rate gradients — 1.75″ at the grazed Sun, 1919 and ever since. Refraction as the turning of a front whose near edge runs slow — Huygens, 1678.
The wheel casts the wall: reality poured from the Unified State, quanta by quanta, the spawn landing where chance says and the books holding because law says. Expansion is the casting; entropy is what a kept sum looks like spread over more boxes; matter is the number the regathering keeps together; and gravity is the lean of every two-legged walk past the pile — the counting itself, turned into a turning. The same spawning that will build the horizons of the Locks briefing taxes the books here; that publication stands separately.
No equation is altered by the reading. The measured curves live in the Orrery and the Bridge.
Everything quantitative here is a declared cartoon. The lean rule turns walkers with the rate difference across their stride — Huygens' construction, not Einstein's equation; the capture spiral exists because the toy keeps no angular-momentum books. The rate field is the pile's numbers smoothed, falling as 1∕(1+load), not as the measured lapse. Plane-casting keeps the lattice square for the eye; real expansion has no favored slices. Entropy is computed over box-shares of the sum — one honest choice among several. The walker's arena rides the island: a modeling decision that mirrors the measured fact that bound systems do not stretch, not a derivation of it.
The keeping. One verified non-conserving event in closed books, and C·02 falls — and with it the copper badge on every bench of this page and the Render before it. None is on record.
The island. One bound system measured stretching with the flow — one galaxy, one orbit, one atom inflating with its space — and the pile of § 04 is a false picture: regathering would not win locally, and matter would thin with the void.
The lean. One path through a rate gradient that fails to turn toward the slow side — one clock pair with no lean between them, one deflection measured opposite the thinning — and C·03 falls, and § 03 with it. The record since 1919 is unanimous the other way.
The standing flag — a cartoon is not a derivation. This page derives nothing: not the lapse's curve, not the lean's factor of two, not the entropy law's constants. It shows that one conservation rule can carry expansion, spread, binding and turning in a single frame — a claim about pictures, not yet about numbers. It becomes physics on the day the counting yields a measured curve from the rules alone. Until then this flag flies at full height, as always, at the same volume as the claims.