self-hosted · anchored to the timechain
drafted by the house's machines · cut and decided by the operator
sealed to the chain — verify
Every ten minutes, machines on six continents burn roughly three gigawatt-hours to produce a single number that no one can predict and no one can revise.
The number exists in no almanac. Nothing computes it ahead. The only way to reach tomorrow's block is to wait while the whole planet spends its way there, hash by hash, in sequence.
A planetary furnace that runs a clock. This is the security: a fix this expensive cannot be counterfeited — a coordinate in space and time that cannot exist twice.
Anything sealed against that number inherits its fixity: provably in existence at that block, provably unaltered ever after, provably yours if you choose to sign it.
A manuscript. A photograph. A contract. A discovery. A promise. Proof that you made, held, knew, or said a thing — without a notary, a registry, or anyone's permission.
The file never leaves your device — only its fingerprint does. Existence becomes public. Content stays yours.
sealing is free — no account, no coin, no permission