A signal from the void

Everything from nothing.

You capture a voice. Someone responds. More voices join. Cipher composes them into something you can watch, share, and grow — a living mini-documentary made from the people who matter to you.

To hear the lore of your own blood, told in the voices of the people who lived it.

Start your skySee a Birthday Cipher

Free to begin. Your sky is always yours.

The problem

You already have everything. It's just scattered.

Before Cipher

Photos buried in camera rolls.
Voicemails you're afraid to delete.
Stories only one person remembers.
No way to hear them together.
No way to pass them forward.

↓

After Cipher

Every capture becomes a living Cipher.
People add their voices — it grows.
Press play — it renders into a mini-movie.
Share it — it lands in their sky.
They comet back — and now it includes them.

The core idea

A Cipher is a living documentary.

You record your grandmother telling a story. That recording is a Cipher — a Cipher of one voice. It appears as a star in your sky.

You share it with your mom. She watches, and something stirs. She holds down the button and comets back — adds her own voice, her own memory, a correction, a laugh. Now the Cipher has two voices.

Your cousin sees it, adds a third. Your uncle digs up a photo from the same era and drops it in. The Cipher grows.

Press play on that Cipher now and it's not a voicemail anymore. It's a composed, watchable experience — your grandmother's voice woven with your mother's, your cousin's reaction, your uncle's photo — a documentary that assembled itself through the people who lived it.

A Cipher is a group text that renders into a movie.
Social media that becomes preservation.
A conversation that becomes a documentary.

Every Cipher starts as one voice. Some stay that way — quiet, permanent, complete on their own. Others grow across voices, years, generations. The container is the same. The content gives it weight.

How it lives

Capture. Comet. Play.

Capture
Record a voice, take a video, snap a photo, scan a letter, write a memory. Whatever you capture is born as a Cipher — a star in your sky. It's alive from the first moment, waiting for company or complete on its own.
Comet
The verb of the platform. When something moves you, you comet on it — add your voice, your video, your reaction. Your comet streaks across the sky and joins the Cipher. The thing you responded to now includes you. Everyone knows how to comment. Now you know how to comet.
Play
Press play and AI composes a documentary from every voice in the Cipher. Not a slideshow. Not a playlist. A woven, narrative experience — real voices arranged into something you can watch, feel, and share. The more voices join, the richer it renders.
Share
Send a Cipher and it lands as a star in someone else's sky. They watch it. They feel it. They comet back. Now the Cipher has a new voice, and the next time anyone presses play, it includes them. The share is an invitation disguised as content.
Grow
A Cipher never stops growing. Your daughter comets on it at her wedding. Your grandson finds it twenty years later and adds his voice. The documentary re-renders with every generation that touches it. A living thing that outlasts everyone in it.

The signature flow

The Birthday Cipher.

01 Pick a person
You're making a Cipher for your daughter's birthday. Select her from your people, or add her for the first time.
02 Interview
AI generates questions tailored to her life. Read them to the people who love her. Record their answers. Each answer is a Cipher — a star born in your sky.
03 Voices gather
The interview Ciphers collect around her constellation. A portrait of her, told by the people who shaped her, in their own words and their own voices.
04 Press play
AI composes a documentary from every voice. Not a montage. A woven, narrative experience built from human truth. Her Birthday Cipher.
05 Share it
Send the Birthday Cipher to everyone who participated — and everyone who didn't. They watch. They cry. They comet back. Birthday greetings, extra stories, tears and laughter — all joining the Cipher.
06 It re-renders
Press play again. Now the Birthday Cipher includes the original interviews AND every reaction. A feedback loop of love, composed into a gift that keeps growing.

The Birthday Cipher isn't just interviews about her. It's interviews about her plus the emotional reactions of people watching those interviews, all composed into one living thing. Every birthday, it grows. Every year, more voices.

Three entry points, one platform

Different reasons. Same sky.

The Connector

Share while they’re here.

The mom documenting milestones. The grandkid recording Grandma at Thanksgiving. The friend building a birthday Cipher. You’re not thinking about preservation — you’re sharing something meaningful. But every Cipher you start is a star that outlasts you both.

The Preserver

Give it a home.

Boxes of photos. Decades on hard drives. Letters in shoeboxes. Stories nobody’s written down. Upload them — each one becomes a Cipher. Add your voice for context. Now they’re not just stored. They’re alive, connected, and composable into something you can watch.

The Rememberer

Feel close again.

Today is your grandfather’s birthday. He’s been gone for years. You open his Ciphers — his voice, his face, the stories he told. You press play. AI composes a documentary from everything he left behind. You comet on it, and your voice joins his. This is why Cipher exists.

Our thesis on AI

Human voices, not machine narratives.

We're building in the age of AI. Models can generate text, synthesize information, narrate stories. But history should be preserved by humans, not told to us by machines.

AI is a tool inside Cipher — it composes the documentary, generates interview questions, positions stars in your sky. But the voices are real. The stories are real. The memories are captured by the people who lived them.

In a world increasingly narrated by algorithms, Cipher is the place where your story is told in your voices. That's not a feature. That's the point.

Why we built this

In the house where I grew up, the past did not know it was supposed to be over.

It arrived at the table of each visit with my grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins, who carried it in their coat pockets like something they meant to return. My grandfather would sit at the head of the table and listen to his own history told back to him, by the love of his life my grandmother — and he would wink to let me know he was still there.

I live for the feeling of laughing before the punchline because we had heard this story nineteen times and it was never the same story twice. Someone always remembered the part everyone else forgot. Someone else would wait until the very end to upend the whole thing: "Well, you know why we were even in that car, right?"

The past was not behind us at that table. It was breathing, arguing, pouring itself more wine.

Then my uncle found the shoebox — letters sent to my grandfather during the war. A lifeline. His family couldn't be beside him, so they did the only thing they could: they loved him across the distance. Methodically. Faithfully. Never in doubt.

They wrote and they prayed and they poured themselves into envelopes, channeling everything they had across the ocean, willing him home.

He survived. He married my grandmother. And here I am.

I think that's what ancestors are. Not just people who came before us — forces still moving through the universe, still guiding us, still pouring their energy forward through time.

The letters proved it. The love they sent didn't stop when the war ended. It's still traveling. Still reaching.

That's what Cipher is. A way to keep that energy moving — voices and stories channeling forward through time, so the people who loved us before we were born can keep reaching the people who won't be born until we're gone.

I built it so you could have this too. Before the chairs go empty. Before you forget to ask.

The Founder

The language

Four words. That's the whole world.

Cipher ◆

The atomic unit. The living thing. You capture a voice — it’s a Cipher. Someone comets on it — the Cipher grows. Press play — it renders into a documentary. Share it — it lands in someone else’s sky. The app, the artifact, and the experience are the same word.

Comet ☄

The verb. The act of adding your voice to a Cipher. You comet a memory, and your voice streaks across the sky, bright and leaving a trail. The social action that turns a monologue into a conversation and a conversation into a documentary.

Star ✦

A Cipher as it appears in your sky. Every Cipher is a star — some bright and active, some ancient and steady. Their position reflects their meaning to you. Together they form constellations — clusters grouped by person, era, or theme.

Your Sky ◎

Your personal galaxy. No one else has this sky. No one else ever will. It contains every Cipher you’ve created, every Cipher shared with you, every Cipher you’ve cometed on. Open the app and this is what you see — the geography of your life in light.

Every voice deserves to be more than a memory that fades.

Start preserving the voices and stories of the people who made you who you are.

Start your sky

Free to begin. Your sky is always yours.