A tiny sapling growing inside a translucent phone-shaped greenhouse
A small figure at a garden crossroads under a glowing question mark
A cozy phone-shaped house full of memories with a receipt booth at the door
A family around a table with a glowing shared travel plan
A moonlit grove of glowing card-leaf plants tended by a gardener

Crux for iPhone

It asks before
it acts.

A small companion that lives on your phone, learns you by asking — and grows as you answer. The big stuff happens only with your say-so, itemized every time.

Scroll to fly through

01 — The Ask

Little questions,
big respect.

Two to four choices, never loaded. There's always "none of these — let me type", always a skip, and always a why. A question that can't say why it's asked never shows up.

2–4 choices Always an out Always a why

02 — Home

Your life stays
on your phone.

Your profile never leaves. When bigger help is needed, you see the receipt first — exactly what goes, where it goes, and what never will. Nothing is sent without your tap.

Lives on-device Itemized receipts You hit send

03 — The Circle

Big calls are
shared calls.

Trips, moves, family plans — Crux drafts, your people weigh in, you decide. Shared plans carry your voice, not a robot's.

Drafts, never sends Your voice Family first

04 — The Grove

It grows as
you answer.

Every answer plants something. Watch your Crux grow from seed to grove — and see exactly what it learned, when, and why. Wrong guess? One tap and it's gone.

Traceable Correctable Yours
3.4 GBthe brain that moves in — once, on Wi-Fi
0messages it will ever send by itself
2–4choices per question, plus an out
1place your life lives: your phone

Built on promises,
not permissions.

The Grove

Home is a small stack of living cards — a question, a plan in motion, a note from your circle. Never more than five. No feed to drown in.

"Did I get this right?"

Crux never quietly decides who you are. Anything it guesses from your behavior gets checked with you before it's remembered.

Tricks get caught

If something in an email or page tries to trick it, Crux stops, sets it aside, and tells you in plain words. You decide what happens next.

Emergencies come first

Health scares skip everything — straight to who to call, never behind a paywall, never dressed up as anything else.

Quiet by design

Four kinds of notifications, a daily cap you set, and no "we miss you" nags. Ever.

Yours to steer

A few honest dials, set once and revisit whenever. Every shift Crux makes on its own shows up where you can see it.

Plant your Crux.

The family beta runs full-screen on your iPhone today — the App Store comes next.