The world

The vision for the game. Wif is in development; follow the status of individual systems in the roadmap.

One star per account. Three wishes a day. The world answers in a day.

Your star

Every account gets one real star from the catalogue — there are 119,626 of them, with procedural systems built around each. A star cannot be bought, traded or lost. It stays yours even while you are away.

This universe fits thousands of players, not millions. When it fills up, it fills up.

A wish

A wish is a description of a world, not a command. You write a plain sentence and the server turns it into 42 bytes: mountain height, ocean level and depth, water colour, gravity, day length, how many stars and moons, the viewpoint.

What you leave unsaid stays as it was. A wish is always read as a change to the current world, never as a world from scratch.

Rhythm

Three wishes a day, one every eight hours. A wish builds for a full day — the whole time it is visible to everyone nearby, and the whole time you can cancel it. Once it starts, you cannot.

The clock follows your world's dawn, not your timezone. Take a fast planet and you move often. Take a slow gas giant and you think longer.

The laws

These are constraints, not promises. They never bend for a player.

• §1 A wish comes true literally. Always.
• §2 There is no rollback.
• §3 The world is not cruel. It is realistic.
• §4 The world remembers every wish.
• §5 Determinism is total: the same inputs give the same world.
• §6 Doing nothing is not a pause. The world moves on without you.
• §7 This universe cannot be closed along with its author.

Change history

Every wish that comes true adds a new version of the world. Old versions are never erased: you can open one and see how the world looked before you.

A year is about a thousand wishes. The world becomes the layers of your decisions: geology remembers, species carry lineages, ruins stay. There is no undo — there is archaeology.

Neighbours

This is an MMO for people who don't want to talk. There is no chat and there won't be one.

• Necropolis. Dead worlds stay in the sky forever. Dark systems, scars, ruins — open read-only. The universe keeps its graves.
• Constellations. A notable contribution earns a named object in the canon galaxy. The universe is its own credits roll.
• Neighbours. You will never exchange a word. A neighbour lit a second star and your night sky changed. Their world died and you watch the light go out.

Forks

Client and server open up ring by ring. Improvements flow into one canon, and a fork has every right to fall behind it. What a fork cannot copy is time: the lived history of other people's worlds.

One door stays shut while the canon lives: the wish interpreter is the taste of this universe. And there is a will — if the canon dies, that door opens too.