Entry Zero is a novel spanning seventy years, from 2029 to 2100. On Canada's Pacific coast, a few people begin to organise their lives differently — without money deciding everything. The book follows what comes of that, tracing one family from an island to a Swiss valley to a Costa Rican rainforest. It is a story, not a manifesto. And the world it describes isn't invented from nothing; it rests on work anyone can look up. The book is free.

Two bodies of research sit openly available. One demonstrates, year by year, that a just world within the planet's limits is possible by 2100. The other shows how people could organise an economy without money and markets determining every outcome. One knows the destination; the other knows the road. Anyone can read them. Almost no one does — not for lack of intelligence, but because a world laid out in figures is not a story. People live in stories, not in reports.

Entry Zero is an attempt to cut a door into those reports. A novel carried by a love that crosses the border between two economic orders — and by a secret older than either.

It is not a comfortable utopia. The transition has its price, and the book shows it. What remains open at the end is whether a just order can survive without innocence.

On how it was made, since that belongs to the matter: an AI language model reordered existing material and shaped it into words; the telling and the deciding were done by a human being. This is stated in the book, before the first line, and the afterword gives a full account. What is unusual is not the tool but the transparency: the workshop archive is published at https://entryzero.vercel.app — every rule, every draft, every change, every reason, dated. Anyone who wants to know how the book was made doesn't have to take anyone's word for it. They can read it.