Sixty-six days, one campaign. Daily quests, a weekly boss, a character sheet built from your real state — and a streak that dims instead of dying when life gets in the way.
No card. No paywall before your first finished quest.
Trackers are built for the perfect week. Nobody has one.
quit a habit tracker inside the first 30 days — roughly half are gone by day 60.
of users are still opening a typical tracker on day 30. The category leaks by design.
missed does not measurably break habit formation (Lally et al., UCL). A zeroed streak punishes nothing real.
Sixty-six days is the published median for habit automaticity — not a promise, a frame. Four phases, one end date, and a graduation you actually reach.
A short interview, an honest self-rating across Body, Mind, Focus, Order, Social — and a character sheet whose starting stats are simply your real state.
Three to five daily quests, one weekly boss, rare random encounters. Difficulty follows your actual pace, not a curve someone drew.
A boss-rush week that collects every habit the arc built. Nine days to prove the version of you that showed up.
Stats before and after, the photo trail, the letter you wrote on day 0 — then a real choice: a new arc, Sustain mode, or nothing at all.
The zeroed streak is the single biggest reason people delete these apps: one flu week erases forty days, and guilt does the rest. Riselyn replaces it with a meter that has inertia — and a documented third state between done and failed.
After two misses the flame smoulders for up to seven days. Coming back relights it faster than building it from nothing.
A deliberate day off is a legal state, not a failure. One a week, more if earned — and strictly capped, because unlimited forgiveness stops meaning anything.
Freeze the whole arc for up to 14 days. Two taps, no doctor's note, no lost progress.
The headline number is 29 of 30 days = 97%, not a fragile counter. Data you can trust instead of a symbol you can break.
By week six, most trackers are a record of a fantasy about yourself. So progress here splits in two: Claimed — you said so — and Proven. Proving is always optional, always rewarded: ×1.5 XP and a mark on the quest.
Close a quest with a photo. They stack into a private trail — by day 66 it is already the time-lapse of your arc.
Steps, workouts, sleep and screen time confirm themselves through HealthKit, Google Fit and Screen Time. Nothing to log twice.
One tap from someone in your fireteam confirms it. Accountability from a person, not a policeman.
A quest that says “run 3 km” is worthless if you then leave for another app. Outdoor tracking, indoor sets and an eight-week gym plan all live inside the arc, and everything they record feeds the same XP, the same flame, the same character sheet.
Live route, kilometre splits, heart-rate zones, and an auto-proven quest the moment you stop the session.
A runner that walks you set by set, a rest timer between them, and weekly load so you can see when to back off.
Pick a split, sessions per week and session length; the plan builds itself, shows muscle-group coverage, and raises load only when the last week actually went well.
Kairos uses a language model in exactly two places: turning your goal into a real quest plan, and writing the Sunday recap that turns a week of logs into a chapter. Everything else — pattern analysis, the after-a-miss conversation, notification timing — is plain rules. Cheaper, predictable, and it works on a plane.
Tone is fixed by design: direct, warm, never shaming. No toxic positivity, no guilt, no “you disappointed your pet”.
Forms unlock through the arc — a boss cleared, a comeback survived, a title earned. None of them are for sale.
Two to five people, a shared feed, a weekly boss you clear together. No global XP leaderboard — ranking strangers by points only ever demotivates whoever is losing.
Progress, reactions, and a nudge when a teammate disappears for two days. Invite by link, leave any time.
One bar, five contributors, one week. 40 km between you is easier to start than 10 km alone.
Inside your party only, by consistency rather than XP. Comparison stays with people who know you.
Came back from Ember State and finished the arc anyway.
Day 66 is a ceremony, not a churn event: stats then versus now, the photo trail, the letter you wrote on day zero, a title and one artefact. Then a genuine choice — a new arc, Sustain mode with one or two anchor habits, or a clean goodbye.
We let people in a few hundred at a time so the comeback flow, the recaps and the gym plans get read by humans before the next batch. Leave an email and you get exactly one message — the day your platform opens.
Kairos will send your day-zero interview link when the batch opens. Nothing else until then.
No — the unit is an arc with a start, four phases and an end date, and the numbers on your character sheet come from your own self-rating and verified activity rather than from checkbox counts. If you want an infinite checklist, several good ones already exist.
Your flame drops a level per missed day and then smoulders in Ember State instead of dying. You get one warm message, not seven. When you return, the first three days pay double XP and the next day's quests can be simplified in one tap.
Never. Claimed quests count in full. Proof — photo, health data or a witness — only adds a ×1.5 XP bonus and a mark. Photos stay private to your account and can be deleted at any point.
Yes. Quests, flame, timers, workouts and widgets are local-first and sync later. Only two features need the network: generating an arc and the weekly recap.
No, and we don't claim it. 66 days is the published median for habit automaticity, with a very wide spread across people and behaviours. Graduation celebrates an arc you completed, not a habit somebody promised would be permanent.
iOS TestFlight first, Android beta right behind it. Join the list and you get one email when your platform opens — no drip campaign.
Arc one is free, the paywall waits until after your first finished quest, and day 66 is designed to let you go.