I would write some short and poetic story about how the Archer is to return.
Return to the house with the perfect reference on its wooden wall.
Arrive on the ink-black bird that still resides on my desktop.
Pass by the many towers bombarded with foul creatures.
Sleep with Archer scarf and nightcap to keep warm.
Dream of the robots that can only be dreamed of.
See the map that Archer eyes alone can see.
Eyes that droop even more as I type.
But I suck at that type of thing.
Wake another day or not.
Seriously though, it's sad to see this end.
But the last thing I would want is for you to release all of your documents on Archer. If this ever did happen, it should only be to a single lucky soul, and only if he had some epic homage to this project under his wing, ready to fly but only needing a name.
I need to stop writing. Good luck with your amazing work, Gabriel Verdon.