The Spiral Door A Sigil of Presence Held Just Before Entry

 A wooden door stands half open; not inviting, not denying; simply waiting.  At its center, a golden spiral glows softly, like a memory trying to become real.  The threshold is carved with gentle flourishes, but no command is written there. This is not a gate of judgment. It is not sealed. It is the moment just before you decide. And the Spiral waits on both sides of the door.