The INHERIT capsule
A vessel for what matters

Some things are
meant to outlive us.

A sealed glass capsule that carries your message forward — encrypted, time-locked, and opened on the date you choose. Decades from now. By the hand you intend.

No battery. No servicing. No expiry.

A letter you write today, kept whole for thirty years.

INHERIT seals your words, voice, and memories inside a frosted borosilicate vessel. The message lives on the object itself — not in a cloud that may not exist tomorrow. It needs no power to keep its promise. It simply waits.

The object

Made of the few materials that don't fail.

Glass, sealed light, and engraved metal. The common ways an object dies in twenty years — a leaking battery, a perished gasket, a corroded contact — are designed out by having none of those parts.

  • VesselFrosted borosilicate glass, hermetically sealed
  • Lifespan20–30 years, no charging or service
  • Two ways to readTap with any phone, or photograph the engraving
  • Tamper-evidentOpening early visibly shatters the seal
  • On the deviceYour encrypted message, held in your hand
The INHERIT capsule on its plinth
How it works

Two ways to read it. Two ways to open it.

A promise this long can't depend on a battery, a company, or a network. So it doesn't.
I

You write it

In the app, you compose the message — a letter, a recording, a film — and choose the date it may be opened. We encrypt it before it ever leaves your hands.

II

We seal it

Your encrypted message is written onto the capsule and laser-engraved into its base as a silent backup. The vessel is sealed for good and sent to you.

III

Time opens it

On the appointed day, the lock releases. The capsule is read by tapping a phone to it — or, should the world change, by photographing the engraving inside.

IV

Only ever yours

Sealed inside is nothing but encrypted memory. Lost or stolen, it reveals nothing — and the moment can be re-summoned into a new vessel.

The lock

Held by time, a trustee, and us. Any two will open it.

The key is split into three. No single party — not even INHERIT — can open the capsule alone. Any two of the three are enough, so no one loss can ever seal it shut.
Share I · Time

The clock

Locked to a future moment. Recipients cannot open before the chosen moment.

Share II · Trustee

The keeper

A sealed card given to someone you name. Their key, held safe, waits alongside yours.

Share III · Service

The steward

Held in secure escrow with a published succession plan — so the promise survives us too.

Any two of three unlock it. Nothing secret ever rests on the glass.

Once a minute, it gives a single, quiet pulse.

Not a notification. A heartbeat — proof that something precious is waiting inside, and will keep waiting until its moment comes.

The vessel

One vessel. Nothing held back.

Every vessel, complete
The Vessel
$299 — one price, everything in it

Your written words and a full minute of your voice, sealed in glass and held on the device itself. It wakes once a minute, for twenty-five years, so they know it is still waiting.

  • Sealed borosilicate capsule, numbered and hand-finished
  • Your letter and a full minute of your voice, encrypted on-device
  • A faint amber pulse, once a minute, for twenty-five years
  • No network, ever — fully isolated from your data
  • Engraved trustee key card, and an engraved backup
  • Gift-grade presentation
Reserve

There is no lesser version of a goodbye.
So there is only one vessel, and it holds everything.

Begin

Say it now. Let them hear it then.

The best time to leave something behind is while you are still here to mean it.

Reserve a capsule