Cut a board yourself.
Nine hypotheses, numbered H1 to H9: candidate answers concrete enough to be wrong. Hover an answer to see what it would kill before you spend it. Then commit, and watch the board refill.
A real session runs five or six rounds, not three. Notice what happened after each cut: the board was refilled. Survivors breed finer versions of themselves, so a first-round hypothesis names a whole approach and a fifth-round one differs from its neighbour by one decision.
“Could you be more specific?”
True, urgent, and shapeless. There is a real answer behind it and no sentence in anyone’s head that holds it yet.
This asks for the expensive thing. Precision, produced alone, from nothing. The answer comes back vague, and the vagueness gets blamed on the person rather than the question.
Instant, specific, and free. A wrong proposal costs nothing to reject and carries a reason with it, and the reason is the part worth having.
So the skill forbids the question outright. The agent is never allowed to ask you to be more specific, because that is the job it was called for.
A question that changes nothing is never asked.
Before asking, the agent works out what each surviving hypothesis would answer. If they all answer alike, the question carries no information, and asking it costs you real thought for nothing. Pick one and watch the column.
Dead questions are the ones that feel most productive to ask. They sound thorough, they take real effort to answer, and the board is exactly where it was.
Four beats, repeated until it lands.
One file, and half of it is the graveyard.
The session ends when you confirm a guess, or when the survivors differ only in ways you say don’t matter. What gets written down is the winner, the dimensions you called free, and every hypothesis that died with the reason it died.
The graveyard is what recognises a rejected direction when it comes back months later wearing a different name.
It runs before grilling.
Searches a space
Nothing exists yet. Its unit is a hypothesis, and its failure is asking a question that changes nothing.
Walks a tree
The thing exists and needs sharpening. Its unit is a decision, reached once its prerequisites are settled.
Grilling is Matt Pocock’s skill,
installed separately; narrow-then-grill runs the two in order, handing the
winner and the graveyard straight across.