A live site does not always die when it goes quiet. Sometimes it returns as a thinner version of itself: a front page with the lights still on, the old rooms sealed, and a note taped to the glass explaining why the building is not open.

Call it archive mode.

Archive mode is not deletion. The files remain. The name still resolves. The institution has not vanished. But the site has changed social state. It is no longer mainly an editorial machine, a public square, a working nervous system. It becomes a shell that proves continuity while admitting damage. The past stays readable. The present becomes maintenance.