You hold a City Key 🗝️ — a small file, not an account — that records your standing in the City of Mages. These four rooms let you walk it, prove it, turn it into a portrait that carries itself, and gather many under one night. No server holds your identity at any step; everything below happens in your browser, checkably.
Every meaningful thing you do in the City — a workshop entered, a ceremony walked, attention genuinely staked — lands somewhere specific: one of 64 states, each a six-bit address across the six sovereignty dimensions (🛡️ Protection · 🤝 Delegation · 📜 Memory · 🔗 Connection · ⚡ Computation · 💎 Value). Your key is the compressed record of where you've stood and what you've done there: a palette you chose, vertices you've lit, descriptions you've earned, focus you've poured, laps you've walked. A whole standing, a few kilobytes, yours as a file.
In the Swordsman's register each state is a blade, and the tiers cut the strata: Null (stratum 0 — total exposure, one state) · Light (1–2) · Heavy (3–4) · Dragon (5–6 — full sovereignty, the mathematical closure). The ceremony's trust tiers (blade → light → heavy → dragon) climb the same strata; vertex 63, all six dimensions held, is the full blade.
The loop is the point: the key is a claim when minted and a record after walking. Time spent in the geometry becomes proof nobody attested to — it's just arithmetic about where you stood.
Both ends now speak κ: /city stamps the κ at mint and re-derives it at charge — a reading, never a gate; a mismatch is reported, not punished. And when only the proof should travel, /lattice exports a ⚡ charge pass — trace, witness and κ, nothing else. Inscriptions, palette, focus amounts and identity stay home; /city charges it exactly as it would the full key.
The 3D boundary: the star-tetrahedron core inside the 64-vertex lattice. Import your key, set your stance on the console (the manifold's shape — it travels in the key), play the succ cycle, walk your lit vertices, save the trace. F for the cinematic orbit · S snaps a portrait that carries your key.
walk → 🧙The flat codex: all 64 states, each openable — its stratum, its six bits, its reflections. Focus you poured at /city glows gold here; walking the cycle discharges it, vertex by vertex, until the witness is minted: focus claimed, then made real by presence.
prove → 🪬The bytes: watch the key's name — its κ — be recomputed from its exact content and checked against what it claims. Then see the name drawn: 64 hash glyphs on 64 vertices, your constellation. Compare two keys: shared ground in teal, divergence pulsing.
derive → 🌌The night of many keys: add any number — yours, friends', your own key's ancestors — and each rises as a star placed by its κ. Gold threads are lineage (the prior chain); teal threads are common ground — drawn locally, or computed blind with a friend via a two-file 🤝 exchange that reveals the overlap and nothing else. 📸 snaps the whole night as one image carrying every risen key.
Hash the key's exact bytes and you get its κ-label: kappa = "sha256:" + H(canonical form). This is a fingerprint, not a transformation — your key's content is untouched; the κ is one extra line, derived from the content. Delete it and the key still works. Recompute it and you get the same answer back if — and only if — nothing changed. Every import, on every page, re-derives it and shows κ verified or ⚠ κ mismatch. The rule underneath: identity is content, not location — a key is what it says, wherever it travels, and nobody has to take its word for it.
Your palette — the four gems you picked. Expression. Two bearers can share it; you can change yours tomorrow. The voice.
The manifold parameters ride in your key: six petals, one per dimension — your stance — engraved vertex by vertex with the work you actually did (focus, lit, witness, inscription). And once the City measures your figures, the shape stops being chosen: it's read. The posture.
Which vertices glow comes from the κ. You cannot choose it or fake it; it moves only when your content moves — and then it moves everywhere (~60 of 64 glyphs on one edit). The fact.
A forged sigil doesn't fail quietly in a log somewhere. It looks wrong — in your own colours, on your own shape.
Export the sigil (or snap /star with your key loaded) and the entire key rides inside the image — in a standard, labelled PNG metadata chunk, with the κ caption visible in the pixels. Every image viewer shows the constellation; every room here (and /city's charge) reads the chunk and gets your key back byte-for-byte. Zoom in, crop, snap mid-orbit — any framing is the full record, because what you framed and what you carry are different layers of the same file.
The architecture is two agents and a gap. The ⚔️ Swordsman was forged and then forgot — his private key burned at the ceremony, by design: he guards the boundary precisely because he can't be made to reveal what he was never told. The 🧙 Mage remembers — the graph, the deeds, the library; at spellweb the key itself now equips her graph, and her export rides back out as the same κ-stamped file, round-tripping to every room here. The key carries what he may not hold and what she must not lose; importing it anywhere re-equips both, separately. And the First Person 😊 — you — are never in the file. What travels is everything around the gap. The gap survives every round trip because it was never encoded.