The one chat

One chat serves the whole world. It slides down from the ceiling over the panel; a name at the head of your words sends the ask to one body; a time window scopes it; a chip under the composer says what kind of ask it is; every reply names who served it and wears the journey it took. Esc closes one thing at a time. Say guide, help or ? at any moment and the kernel opens its own list of what you can say — the same list this page is written from.

Asking

Say	What happens
what is the temperature outside?	A thought: the librarian answers with its tools; every body it needs is asked.
echo, say the word HERON once	A name at the head sends the ask to that body alone.
librarian, remember that I went to the trailer today	The librarian keeps the words in the Record. Ask later: what do you remember about the trailer?
between 9am and noon, what did I ask?	Sets the time window the crew reads from; since yesterday works too.
follow up on this by counting the asks	A child of the origin last opened in the Analyzer.
summon MITL	The Master Mind In The Loop reads the canon and says what a change touches; every hold offers expected impact?
librarian@two, what is the weather?	An ask that names a cell routes home: cell two’s own librarian answers, and the answer lands here, its journey saying so.

The kind of an ask

There are no chat modes. The chip under the composer reads the kind from your words — thought · objective · intention — and one click flips it. The kind is minted as the ask’s marker, with the ask, in one transaction, so the kernel read this as an objective; you confirmed is on the record.

Kind	Say	What happens
thought	what is the temperature outside?	One answer, now. Nothing in the world changes.
objective	objective: get the weather tool healthy again	Work the crew owns until it is done; the planner writes the steps, the crew acts, the Analyzer shows the tree.
intention	keep this world resilient: when a watch goes red, get it green	A standing purpose that wakes on what it watches; it appears in the Analyzer with its stop.
a cadence	echo, every 5 seconds, say the time, please	The intention runs on the clock; echo, stop rests it; echo, restart intention ‘every 5 seconds’ stands it again.

How much of you a task needs

The kind decides how far the kernel goes without you, and it never goes one step further without a word from you.

• Manual — a thought. You ask, one body answers, you are the whole loop. Your part: the question.
• Manual assist — an objective. The planner writes the steps, the crew runs them, the Analyzer shows the tree. When a step would change something (retire, re-pin, refill), the chat shows a hold with Cancel as the default — nothing runs until you click Yes; a grave step asks for your authenticator’s code. Your part: one word to start, one word at each hold. Say stop it at any time; what was left undone is said.
• Full auto — an intention. The kernel observes (a red watch, a clock), reads the ground itself first, hands the planner the dossier and the levers it can pull, pulls the one the planner names, reads the watch again and says what happened. You read it in the Analyzer and are told, not asked. Consequential steps still hold for you: the kernel never lowers the ladder because it is running on its own. Your part: declare once; decide holds when they come; rest it when you want (stop the … intention — your code, then a master’s click).

Three things always tell you which mode a thing is in: the chip under the composer, the hold row (the kernel is waiting on you), and the Analyzer (every intention and objective by origin, with its stop). The kernel’s reach grows with the kind you chose; your hand on the consequences never shrinks.

When the kernel asks “Are you sure?”

A consequential act holds until you decide. Cancel is the default and has the focus; Yes needs a deliberate click, never the return key.

• Cancel — nothing runs; the hold is recorded as cancelled.
• Yes — do it — the act runs on your word and wears proof L2. A grave act asks for your authenticator’s code instead, and a declared master clicks Confirm as master in their own window: the two-person law, honestly — the typed name is gone.
• expected impact? — MITL says who and what the act touches before you decide.
• A keeper’s proposal arrives here too: a keeper never retires, assigns, refills or re-pins alone; it proposes and you cut. A proposal whose reason has passed withdraws itself.

Your seat

Every door reads who you are from your seat, never from the page. You take a seat with the code your authenticator shows; it lasts a day. On a ground no one holds yet, the first person to prove an authenticator becomes its owner; from then on only the owner or a master can enroll someone new.

Say	What happens
(the seat form) your name + the 6-digit code · Take my seat	The kernel signs a token naming you, what you may do here and until when. The first proof on an unheld ground: you hold this ground now.
(the seat form, no one holds the ground yet) your name · Enroll	The QR for your authenticator; the first code finishes enrolling; the next one takes your seat as the owner.
my seat · who am I seated as?	Seated as whom, until when, and what the seat may do: retrieve · write (· govern for the owner and a master).
leave my seat	Ends this seat now — recorded, never deleted. Another window’s seat is its own.
enroll quinn	The owner’s (or a master’s) word: a QR for another person’s authenticator; they sit in their own browser with the next code.
enroll my authenticator	Re-enrolling yourself is grave: your current code first, then the new QR.
who is at the door?	The join desk: every body that asked to join this world, newest first — the crew, a stranger waiting for your yes, one turned away.

You — what this ground knows about you

Your profile is yours: what you tell this ground about yourself, in your own words, labeled by who said it — you told me · I observed · the mirror noticed (reserved). Every body reads it first when it answers you; a routed ask carries it to the far cell for that answer alone, and the far cell keeps nothing.

Say	What happens
my name is JB · call me JB	Your name, trusted on your word. The newest word wins; the old one stays in the record.
I live in Boulder, Colorado	Your place. The kernel looks up its coordinates and clock once and keeps them beside your words as I observed — the weather tool then answers for your place. With no place told, it says so rather than reading someone else’s weather.
my time zone is America/Denver	Your clock; every time a body reads you is in it.
remember about me: I take my coffee black	A free word about you. Every resident reads it in its context, never recites it unasked.
what do you know about me? · who am I	The portrait: every live word with its label and the clock this ground would use for you.
forget my name · forget that I take my coffee black	A recorded withdrawal — the words are no longer read; the record keeps that you said them once.

Memory, sessions and the export

The kernel never forgets: every word acquired is kept verbatim with its lineage; a correction is a sibling, never an overwrite.

Say	What happens
what do you remember about the trailer?	Recall, stemmed and ranked; the librarian answers from the Record, word for word.
list my sessions · new session	Your worldlines, newest first, each with its short version — the digest, written from the Record alone. A new session archives the old one; nothing is deleted.
export compliance for this session · … for today	A table of every ask, act and reply with its chain of who acted for whom, signed by the kernel’s own self; two downloads beneath it, JSON and CSV. A stranger can verify the chain and the signature.
forget the trailer note	Governed erasure on the reference kernel: every version leaves; a tombstone keeps the hashes; the digests that cited it are rebuilt. (The Rust kernel’s purge is owed — see what works today.)

Sessions and focus

The chat is one window with a focus. Opening a pull — by click, or by words (open the crew, open the monitor, open the studio) — pushes a focus: the workspace’s firmware agent joins the session and the edges show that workspace’s scope. With the Studio open the chat speaks to its agent, and a brief there is a whole agent made. Esc pops it and restores the chat’s scope exactly. Inside a pull, chat closed means you work manually; chat open means you converse with that workspace’s agent only. Sessions roll, never spill: a newly selected body reads that session’s results and only those, plus its own worldline.