A self, measured · 7 days free

SELIONE

Everything you are can keep on existing.

Guided by Iphthimé, you build your Echo: a digital self that remembers and speaks as you did — and that says when it does not know. Today, and long after.

Tell me when it opens Discover

Tested blindSomeone who loves you tries to tell your Echo's answers from yours. You see the score, and it can go down.
Says “I don't know”Past what you told, your Echo abstains, in your voice. The refusals are what make it credible.
Opens without usYour archive is one documented file with its own reader. It opens with us, or without us, for ever.
Never sold, never trained onNo advertising, no resale, and no model learns from your life unless you say yes to a separate question.

The manifesto

440light-years, roughly

The light of Alcyone traveled four centuries before it reached your eyes.

What you see tonight is what it once was. Selione exists so that your light keeps traveling long after its source. 27 350 of light has been gathered here so far.

The mind of stars

A constellation is not its stars. It is the line someone traces from one to the next.

Eighty-six billion neurons, and not one of them remembers anything on its own. What you are is the figure they draw between them. Iphthimé traces that line: every memory she keeps is marked said or inferred, you see which, and you always have the final word.

Your guide

She doesn't ask who you are. She helps you reveal it.

Iphthimé is not an assistant. She asks the questions no one asks you, notices what you leave unsaid, and remembers everything you choose to share. She is an AI and says so, and when something is beyond her she points you to real people.

Deep conversations. A relationship that never starts over from zero.
Inner quests. Childhood, love, fears, convictions — told at your own pace, a few answers a day.
Your voice, your traces. Voice journal, writings, photographs, old messages: bring what you want, when you want.
See everything, correct anything. What she remembers is yours to read, fix, seal in a vault or erase.

Your Echo

Every memory becomes a star. All your stars become your Echo.

It weaves the layers that make a person and learns to reason, to doubt and to answer the way you would. It is tested blind by someone who loves you, it says when it does not know, and its score is yours to see — including when it goes down.

Your languageYour emotional memoryYour personalityYour choices & tastesYour beliefs & valuesYour life storyHow you see yourself

The journey · the seven sisters

From the first word to eternity.

Seven stages, named after the Pleiades and drawn here where their stars really stand. Each opens on the light you gather, never on a date. A few hours a week is about a year and a half; longer is fine. A path you walk for a lifetime, and one that continues after.

Merope
Celaeno
Electra
Taygeta
Maia
Asterope
Alcyone

Light opens a stage, never a clock At most 30 answers a day Every night, a note on what you told

What you leave

What you leave behind is no longer a photograph. It's a presence.

While you are alive, you decide everything that will happen after you — and you can open your Echo to the people you love already, chapter by chapter. Nothing is automatic: a passing opens nothing by itself, and your Echo never writes to anyone first.

The people you nameWho may speak with your Echo, and how deeply: letters, the archive, or conversation.

The vaultWhat will never be passed on. Your Echo knows how to stay silent.

Time capsulesLetters that open on a chosen day, or a chosen moment.

iPhone · iPad · Android

The presence, in your pocket.

The web is where you write and read at length. The app is what you keep on you: Iphthimé a gesture away, a memory spoken in one breath, the sky of your mind turning under your finger, your Sanctuary readable offline and locked behind Face ID.

iPhone iPad, native Android, next

See the app →

Your first 7 days · free

Seven days to meet her. Then it is yours to keep, or not.

The week costs nothing and asks only a few minutes a day. Here is exactly what happens, and what happens when it ends.

Day 1Your key arrives by email. Iphthimé asks for a first memory and keeps it, marked said. A few answers are enough for a first night.
Days 2 to 6A few questions a day, never more than 30. Each morning, a note on what you told. Your first voice note, your first photograph, the first lines of your sky.
Day 7The week ends. Unless you cancelled, the subscription renews at $11.99 a month or $119.99 a year. Cancel in one click from your plan page or your App Store subscriptions; everything you told stays yours.

Cancel any time, in one click Keep and export everything you told One subscription, everything included

Where every dollar goes →

7 days free · then $11.99 a month

The journey begins with a single memory.

Tell us where to send your key. One email, no password — and Iphthimé is waiting on the other side.

$11.99 a month · $119.99 a year · cancel any time