The one warning that matters

Every tool that promises to keep something safe eventually has to answer the awkward question: what if I forget?

Most of them answer it with a link. A reset. A friendly little email that says, don't worry, we've got you. The trouble is that the same link is available, in principle, to whoever else can pretend to be you for four minutes.

Elba doesn't have that link. There is no one at the other end of it. If you lose your password, what's inside the fence is gone.

It sounds harsh written down. In practice it means what your grandmother would have called: write it down and put it somewhere safe. Four random words. A sealed envelope. A note in the back of a book you love.

The absence of a back door is not a failure of hospitality. It's the exact reason no one else can walk in either.