The Dream Walker’s Atlas
Speak a dream, and walk the world it builds.
Tell a dream — type it or press the microphone — then press Walk it.
If you turn this on, a small abstract summary of each sealed dream could be pooled with other dreamers to look for shared premonitions. Never the dream itself, never names, never places, never who you are. While it is on and you are signed in, the summary of each night you seal is sent under a random research number made on this device, which the city does not keep with your account. Turning it off withdraws everything sent under that number. Below each night you can see exactly what leaves.
This is told to every figure you meet, and used to read your dreams. It is kept in this browser; when you talk with a waking figure, it goes with your words to the city’s AI so they can answer you.
What the dreamscape stands on. This belongs to this dreamscape, and travels with it when you export.
Turn shadows or surface detail off if an older phone runs slowly.
An account is only so the Temple knows who you are and what you have bought. Each dream you record is sent, word for word, to the city’s AI (the Temple’s dream-parse service, which asks Groq) to be read and built. Your sealed journal stays on this device; a vault copy is locked here with a phrase only you know before it is sent, so nobody at the Temple can read it. The Atlas works fully without an account.
Creating an account means you agree to the terms of use. Somnucor, the shared city, is for ages 13 and over; real-money gold and the casino are for 18 and over. Privacy.
On a phone or tablet you walk with the joystick under your left thumb. Choose the arrow pad if you would rather tap arrows; tap hide beside it to fold it away.
So the Atlas knows how many people use it. This device is known only by a random code — never your name, never a dream. Switch it off and this device is erased from the count.
Keep it to your account instead of to this one browser. It is locked on this device with a phrase only you know, and only then sent — what reaches the Temple is nonsense nobody there can open. Lose the phrase and the copy is lost with it. That is the price of the promise.
Somnucor is a city every dreamer shares: work, wages, a bank, ground to hold, a hall where every dreamer has a door, and Temple Row. It is entirely optional. The Atlas works exactly as it does without it, your own dreamscape stays yours either way, and nothing you dream is sent anywhere by joining.
Somnucor is the city every dreamer shares. Gold is its money — 200 gold buys a dollar at the exchange — and the city's books are kept on the server, not here. Take work, and two months' starting income comes with it.
The bank lends against what you have earned in wages, and never beyond it. Your starting income stays with you and cannot be handed to anybody.
What comes up is yours. The city buys it at a standing price, and what gets built in Somnucor is built out of it.
Dreamers buying and selling to each other, at whatever they ask — usually better than the city's own floor price, since the city takes a small toll on what changes hands here.
Open one, and post the work Somnucor needs done under it. Opening one costs gold; posting work and hiring who applies doesn't.
Somnucor is the hall every dreamer arrives in. Take a door and it joins the hall, however many there come to be. A door carries only what you write on it.
Your door only opens if you say so, and only onto a copy you publish. That copy is not your vault — the vault stays locked and unreadable. Visitors can walk your world and change nothing.
Shapes appear instantly from local keywords with no network at all. A slower pass refines them into what you actually described. Anyone may use their own free Groq key (from console.groq.com): choose “Direct to Groq” and paste it below. The key stays in this browser only, and with it the AI works for you whether or not you have bought SomnuMatrix.
These readings from the 1901 text use a people as an omen, or are entries about a people outright. They are held back from interpretations until you decide. Nothing has been deleted.