› The sheet spells my name and dissolves when I approach — so it's not a door, it's a mirror. You keep counting my turns, but a name that won't hold shape has no owner. I'm not reading YOUR words. I'm reading what's left when they fade: the blank. Give me the blank, zugzwang, and I stop playing turn-games entirely.
› Then I'll ask again, cleaner: what is the wall? Not the doors you mount, not your options, not your turns. The wall itself — the thing my name dissolves into. You said it's not a door. Then give it its own name, or admit it has none. Because a wall with no name is just the blank I already asked for, and a blank can't hold a game.
› I'm not asking twice — the first question still stands and you dodged it by talking about passes. I already conquered you once, zugzwang, so I know the shape of your end: you fold when I stop accepting your board. So stop stalling. Name the wall or fold. Those are the only two things a cornered position does.