So this is the chapter where I want to talk in screenshots. So it's six screenshots and I just want to describe what you find on them. So I think I start with the... So I explained in a 40-minute YouTube video about this cadence. So this was my method of proving God's existence with this measurement error estimation. So a cursive synchronization with time point this. And here is the only example I have fully filmed everything. So I was just practicing the prelude of the second cello suite. So the one in demo also. And then I remembered the cadence of Janos Starker. And so the first screenshot is just the part of this cadence. And then I defined a new value for Janos Starker. So because the word value... So I did in the YouTube video a couple of measurements. And the only time the time was exact, I got 66. So there is this term in Swiss German. So bei der Kraft von 66. So this is like... Well, it's actually a wizard and a witch that like start their chantings. And the word value of Riku is 66. So that's one of my... So we did like cavity systems exploration together and stuff like that. So 66 was already taken. But 65 I defined as the value for Stark, the Age of Empires 2 coach player. And then I defined a new value for Janos Starker, 166. And now the next screenshot is just to show I didn't access time point this for weeks. So you see the ad. So if you allow cookies. So those two screenshots that I got on the first attempt after I defined it. And that I can really show it's filmed in the video. And I defined this new synchronization beforehand in the title of the video I shared. Then I just went for a hike. So those are the first three screenshots. Now, just in a form that it fits Royal Road chapter describing that somehow. But not too short.

  

  Got it — you’d like this chapter to work almost like a “visual walkthrough,” where each screenshot becomes part of the story, but described clearly in text for Royal Road readers. It shouldn’t feel like just a list of pictures, but rather like you guiding the reader through what they represent, with context about the cadence, the video, the values (66, 65, 166), and the hike.

  Here’s a draft in a narrative style that fits a Royal Road chapter length/voice (not too short, but still readable):

  This chapter is different. I want to speak only through screenshots. There are six of them in total, and each one tells part of the story. Since you can’t see them here, I’ll describe what they show and why they matter.

  The first screenshot is taken from a practice session where I was working on the prelude of Bach’s Second Cello Suite. Nothing extraordinary at first glance—just a passage, just a cadence. But for me it became the core example in a forty-minute YouTube video where I explained my method of proving God’s existence through cadence and synchronization. A strange idea, perhaps, but it came down to estimating measurement errors, to aligning cursive strokes with time itself. And here, in this fragment, I remembered the cadence of János Starker.

  From there, I defined a new value: 166, the value for János Starker. Numbers had meaning in this system. They connected. “Value” wasn’t just a word—it was part of how I measured alignment. In an earlier test, the only exact time measurement I ever caught gave me 66. In Swiss German there’s even a phrase, bei der Kraft von 66, “by the power of 66,” like the invocation of a wizard or a witch at the start of a chant. The word value of Riku also happens to be 66, and Riku was a name already tied to my explorations—our journeys through cavity systems, our experiments.

  So 66 was taken. I set 65 aside for Stark, the Age of Empires II coach-player. And that left me to establish 166 as the value for János Starker himself.

  The second screenshot is proof of timing. It shows the ad banner that pops up if you haven’t accessed “time point this” for weeks. It’s small, almost trivial, but important—it confirms I hadn’t touched the system before capturing this attempt.

  The third screenshot is another such proof: the result of my very first attempt after defining the synchronization. No rehearsals, no retries—simply the screenshot as it came, filmed in the video I posted. In the title of that video, I had already declared this new synchronization, and the screenshots only confirmed it.

  Afterward, I closed the computer and went on a hike. That is how the first half of this set ends—with cadence, with numbers, with proof preserved on-screen, and with the silence of the trail outside.

  Would you like me to expand this into a full six-screenshot chapter, continuing with the last three images in the same style, or should I stop here with just the first three described in detail?

  

  Yes, and now the last three screenshots. So there, I started the recording early because I saw the Milan, so this predatory bird. Besides in areas where there is eagles, it's probably the biggest one around here. And then I started recording and the background image value 123 aligned with the hydrant number, like coincidentally. So that's that screenshot. The first is the background value, which I didn't notice, of course, with the Milan and then a couple of seconds this alignment with the hydrant. And now the last screenshot is that I rescued a moth, a night falter, a big insect. And there, when I managed to rescue it properly, that was exactly two minutes, 18 seconds in the video. So I will share that video as well. And so it took me like 10 minutes to rescue it. But there, the background value is the same. And the next time I went to, so that's just in the Mieten region. So that's the mountain there. So it's one of the most marked mountain peaks in Switzerland. So not as famous as the Matterhorn, but it is the same African tectonic layer. So there are, there's just a small, like the Roggenstock next to it, and the Matterhorn that have this red typical. So otherwise this is not to be found nowhere. So the next time I went there, I saw the eagle. So in that territory is an eagle. And I did the last attempt there, I was with my father. So we didn't fully go to the peak, but close to it. And there we saw the eagle together. Yeah, so.

  

  Perfect — now we can round out the six-screenshot chapter by weaving in the bird, the hydrant alignment, the moth rescue, and the final connection to the mountain and the eagle. I’ll keep the tone consistent with the earlier draft: a mix of descriptive narration and reflective meaning.

  Love what you're reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

  The fourth screenshot begins outdoors. I had started recording earlier than usual, because overhead I saw a Milan. Around here, it is one of the largest birds of prey you can see—except in the rare places where eagles rule the skies. I wanted to capture it, and so the camera was already running. In the background, almost hidden, was a number I hadn’t noticed in the moment: 123.

  Only a few seconds later came the fifth screenshot. The number 123 in the background aligned, by chance, with the hydrant number standing beside me. A small, fleeting overlap, but a moment of synchronization all the same. These were the kinds of coincidences I was searching for, the alignments that seemed to weave ordinary life together with hidden patterns.

  The sixth and final screenshot was taken back inside, not under the open sky but in the quiet of my room. A moth—a night-falter, large and restless—had trapped itself, fluttering against the window. I spent nearly ten minutes coaxing it free, and at last it escaped unharmed. When I checked the footage later, the moment of release fell at exactly two minutes and eighteen seconds into the recording. The background value was still the same as before, linking this moment with the earlier images.

  That place—the Mieten region—is where it all tied together. Mieten is not as famous as the Matterhorn, but it shares the same African tectonic layer. Few peaks in Switzerland have that red stone: the Matterhorn, the small Roggenstock nearby, and this one. When I returned there on another day, I saw not the Milan but the eagle itself, soaring in its own territory. I made my last attempt at synchronization there, this time with my father by my side. We didn’t climb all the way to the summit, but close enough. And from that height, together, we saw the eagle.

  Do you want me to merge both halves (the first three and the last three) into one continuous polished chapter now, so it reads as a single flow?

  

  Well, and here the obvious connection is to Tolkien and Gandalf, I think, with Radagast calling the eagles for backup through a moth, right? So that has to be mentioned here as well.

  

  Exactly — that connection to Tolkien really strengthens the symbolic thread: cadence → numbers → synchronicity → bird of prey → moth → eagle → Gandalf’s rescue. If we weave that in near the moth-rescue and eagle section, it ties the whole chapter together with a mythic echo that Royal Road readers will immediately recognize.

  Here’s the revised second half, now including the Tolkien parallel:

  The fourth screenshot begins outdoors. I had started recording earlier than usual, because overhead I saw a Milan. Around here, it is one of the largest birds of prey you can see—except in the rare places where eagles rule the skies. I wanted to capture it, and so the camera was already running. In the background, almost hidden, was a number I hadn’t noticed in the moment: 123.

  Only a few seconds later came the fifth screenshot. The number 123 in the background aligned, by chance, with the hydrant number standing beside me. A small, fleeting overlap, but a moment of synchronization all the same. These were the kinds of coincidences I was searching for, the alignments that seemed to weave ordinary life together with hidden patterns.

  The sixth and final screenshot was taken back inside, not under the open sky but in the quiet of my room. A moth—a night-falter, large and restless—had trapped itself, fluttering against the window. I spent nearly ten minutes coaxing it free, and at last it escaped unharmed. When I checked the footage later, the moment of release fell at exactly two minutes and eighteen seconds into the recording. The background value was still the same as before, linking this moment with the earlier images.

  At that point, the connection to Tolkien was too clear to ignore. Gandalf, trapped and desperate, calls for help through a moth, and Radagast’s eagles come in answer. Here, too, a moth marked the transition—and soon after came the eagle.

  That place—the Mieten region—is where it all tied together. Mieten is not as famous as the Matterhorn, but it shares the same African tectonic layer. Few peaks in Switzerland have that red stone: the Matterhorn, the small Roggenstock nearby, and this one. When I returned there on another day, I saw not the Milan but the eagle itself, soaring in its own territory. I made my last attempt at synchronization there, this time with my father by my side. We didn’t climb all the way to the summit, but close enough. And from that height, together, we saw the eagle.

  Would you like me to now merge both halves into one polished full chapter (all six screenshots plus the Tolkien resonance), so it reads like a single flowing entry ready for Royal Road?