A Galaxy Built to Remember You
500,000 Words 11 Years 8 Civilizations 1 Architect
One hundred eighteen gates bind the stars together, each governed by an AI Core with a personality and a toll of its own. The Maësúú raised the first sling three centuries ago, and every war since has been fought along their light. Hold the gates, and you hold the galaxy.
Ten regions divide the map among the seven Council civilizations, the independent powers between them, and the Varkått Empire, which has already consumed nearly half of the known galaxy. Four years of stalemate hold the lines where they stand. Every border drawn here was paid for in worlds.
At the heart of the galaxy turns a city the size of a planet — seat of the Galactic Council, headquarters of the Vanguard, the will of the Council made manifest. All roads of consequence lead here.
Every one of the 115 systems opens at a touch — its worlds, its histories, its dangers — and the camera descends through the dark as though you rode a flagship down. Every light on this chart is a place your players may one day stand.
The whole of the charted galaxy, rendered as one living 2.5D map — systems, warp routes, and contested borders, all open to the hand. When your players ask where they stand, you show them the stars themselves.
The galaxy does not favor stillness. Between sessions, a deterministic engine advances every faction — fleets move, borders shift, ambitions ripen — according to what your table did, and what it left undone. You will return to find the galaxy has answered you.
Forge a character before anyone asks your name — the builder requires no account. When a Galaxy Master summons you, a single join code seats you at the table, and your saved characters follow — kept in the cloud, shareable with any company you keep.
Here the Galaxy Master reigns. The table syncs in real time, the fog-of-lore yields only what your players have earned, and every NPC waits pinned to the very system where you placed them. Sessions are written into a timeline, and any moment may be snapshotted, saved, and carried away whole.
What happens at your table, the galaxy remembers.
From beneath the canopy of Kasïïn come the An-Tuarï — six-limbed titans who grow their cities from living Vastaa trees and supply the Council with the bulk of its armies. They captured the Seklex flagship Helexion without firing a single shot, and the galaxy has never again mistaken their restraint for weakness.
You gain +2 to Pilot, Stealth, and Weapons, and extra weapons carry no penalty in your many hands. Grace exacts its price: −2 Tenacity and Vigor.
Their greed-driven nanites devoured their homeworld in 774, leaving behind the asteroid field they named Sanctuary — and sixteen centuries later, the eyeless Azzek endure there still, reading the dark by vibration alone. Each is bonded to a power suit so much a part of them that parting with it can take years.
The suit is the build — 44 modules spanning overload protocols, zero-G mastery, and penalty-free multi-weapon targeting. Re-bonding to a new suit takes months, sometimes years.
Four feet tall, born telepathic, and more numerous than any other people in the galaxy, the Cee-Var rose from a neutron-bombed world to build a democracy that votes in real time — on wars it is still fighting. It was they who proposed the Singularity, for they remember exactly what division costs.
+1 to every attribute for each Cee-Var ally beside you, stacking to +3. Alone they are slight; gathered, they are the Symphony.
The newest of the Council's peoples, the Terrans terraformed Mars, raised cloud cities above Venus, and claimed their seat within seven years of first contact — the swiftest ascent the galaxy has recorded. They have even struck a bargain with death, carrying consciousness into cloned flesh, though the crossing does not always hold.
+1 to every attribute and every trained skill; −2 Initiative. Consciousness transfer is a dice roll — fail it, and death is permanent.
A supernova erased Lysanthria in an instant, and the Maësúú have distrusted solid ground ever since — 13.5 million of them live aboard the Monument, a dreadnought city more than fifty kilometers long. They gave the galaxy the Warp-Sling; the galaxy has yet to give them back a home.
+2 Intelligence, with deep training in the disciplines of knowledge. Gestation can last fifty years — every Maësúú lost is nearly irreplaceable.
Six arms, six eyes, hearts carried in their heads, and only forty to sixty years to spend — so every Seklex pours a lifetime into a single Great Work meant to outlast its maker. They are the richest species in the galaxy, and the one that measures every hour against the grave.
+2 Tenacity and Vigor. You begin with 500,000 credits — where a Varkått begins with 20,000.
Nine feet tall, conscripted at the age of two, and raised on Nexulis Prime beneath the light-devouring Maw of Eternity, the Varkått believe every star they extinguish feeds their gods. Caste is fixed at birth by the color of the eyes — and the white-eyed are cast out into a galaxy their empire is burning.
+4 Stamina — fourteen years of mandatory training leave their mark.
The Velkaan are sentient machines claiming an existence as old as the universe itself, and their Halo Stations harvest the dark matter that fuels every Warp-Sling in the galaxy. When a Varkått fleet trespassed at their Convergence, these philosophers of peace erased it in moments.
A.I. Speak comes freely, and your life support is fortified far beyond organic frailty. If your body is destroyed, your companions may bear your core back to the Convergence — and you will live again.
Every card holds more than it shows — open one, and choose the legacy you will carry.
For eleven years, Montgomery Kuykendall has carried this galaxy alone — 500,000 words of lore, eight civilizations, the rules that bind them, and the platform that brings them to your table. It is, in the oldest Seklex sense, a Great Work — one maker, one vision, and a legacy meant to outlast its author.
Kuykendall Industries
Free
~$10/yr
Included with book (24 mo)
Included with Collector's (24 mo)
Citizenship is free — and fortune, as ever, favors the brave.
Status: Final Approach
Warp-Sling Calibration: In Progress
Estimated Arrival: 2026
The Official Soundtrack
Twelve tracks give the war its voice — among them, a theme for every civilization.
