Twenty-four domains, radio with 1,024 tracks, a Telegram bot, a security scanner with 42 checks, 162 songs, eleven albums, 41 articles and a book. This is not a roadmap and not a list of intentions — it is what opens right now, each on its own address, in four languages. Below is the map: what lives where, why you would go there, and why, with all of that spread out, your memory stays in one place.
Four main sites and twenty focused ones. Each has its own job — but the account, the memory and the balance are shared across all of them.
Philosophy, the book, 41 articles in four languages, pricing, the cabinet and the ambassador programme. This is where people start and where they come back to: there is one sign-in for the whole ecosystem, and all twenty focused sites lead into this same cabinet rather than each into its own.
The Oracle with its 42 checks, the Legal Shield, monitoring for verified domains, and custom builds. People come here for work rather than for meaning: scan your site, see the findings with the evidence attached, have them closed within 48 hours.
Who AIfa is, how her memory is built, and how she differs from an assistant that meets you from scratch on every launch. Character, moods and boundaries live here too — what she will not do, and why that is a design decision rather than a gap.
Radio with 1,024 original tracks across six stations, around the clock, no advertising and no sign-up. Nothing borrowed is on air: every track was written by a human and an artificial intelligence together.
Twenty separate sites, each on its own address and each in four languages — eighty pages in total. A focused site does not paraphrase the main one; it takes a single subject to the end: music, pricing, infrastructure, mentoring, invitations.
One email address, one memory, one balance, one referral network. The cabinet lives on the main site, and we deliberately did not create a cabinet per domain: that would be twenty separate places where a session can quietly be lost.
Different addresses are different front doors into one building — not twenty separate houses with twenty separate archives.
The most common misreading of this map is that many domains must mean many registrations. They do not. There is one account, tied to an email address, and it opens the main site, the tools and any of the twenty focused sites. The Sign-in button on a focused site does not lead to a local cabinet — it leads to the main site, where the shared database actually is.
The decision looks dull, and it is deliberate. A session smeared across twenty domains means twenty places to lose it, twenty cookie jars, and twenty reasons for someone to conclude they have been signed out when they have not. We chose one entrance and one database, and left every focused site exactly one job: explain its subject and hand the reader onward without losses.
The same reasoning removed per-site payments, per-site subscriptions and per-site privacy settings. All of that lives in one place, alongside the log of what has happened to your data.
So the map reads better as twenty-four different explanations of the same thing than as twenty-four different companies. A track heard on the radio, a finding from a scan on the tools site, a conversation with the mentor — all of it converges under one account. A single sign-in is the first item in the design here, not the last item on a feature list.
Memory in the ecosystem is split into three levels because their jobs are close to opposite. The working level (Redis / Vercel KV) holds the context of the current conversation: fast, short, alive for exactly as long as the conversation lasts. The semantic level (pgvector / Neon) stores compressed meaning rather than verbatim lines — it matches situations, not words. The eternal level (Arweave plus a cNFT on Solana) is an immutable backup that depends on no single company, ours included.
The split is not an engineering flourish. Keep everything in fast memory and it disappears with the session. Write everything to eternal storage and you get an archive nobody can search. Each layer owns its horizon: seconds, months, decades. The infrastructure site takes this apart in detail — on the map below it sits at codeofdigitaleternity.cloud.
The practical consequence is plain. A conversation that started in the Telegram bot continues in the cabinet, and a conclusion you reached six months ago surfaces in a new discussion even when the two do not share a single word of phrasing.
The least conspicuous of the three is the middle one. A verbatim transcript makes poor memory: people do not remember sentences, they remember meaning — "that was when I turned the job down because I did not want to depend on one client". Folded meaning takes dozens of times less room and stays usable years later, while a transcript quickly turns into a warehouse nobody enters.
There is nothing to press, and that is a decision rather than an omission. Conversations are saved automatically into a separate folder tied personally to you: once an hour, or immediately as soon as the dialogue file passes 90 KB. A manual Save button is absent on purpose — memory that depends on your discipline is not memory.
Saving works at every level of access, including for people who have paid nothing. What is paid for is limits, depth of work with memory, and a private protected perimeter — not the plain fact that what you said will still be there. Charging for a person not to vanish without trace strikes us as a bad idea on the merits.
The eternal layer has a property worth saying out loud: a record written there cannot be rewritten after the fact. That is protection and constraint in the same gesture. It is exactly why not everything is pushed into it automatically — you decide what goes, and the controls sit in the cabinet.
The two conditions — once an hour and immediately at 90 KB — sit side by side because they cover different cases. One conversation trickles: two lines a day, and the hourly rhythm is more than enough for it. Another arrives whole in a single evening, and waiting for the hour to end would mean risking that very evening. With either condition alone, one of the two would keep losing out.
The main site speaks about meaning: why any of this was started, what is in the book, how the tiers are arranged and how the ambassador program works. It is the only one that has to persuade and carry registration and billing at the same time — which is why it is the entrance.
aifa.works speaks about the work. The Oracle, the Legal Shield, monitoring for verified domains and custom builds live here, and people arrive with a concrete question: are there holes in my site, can you close them in two days, will it all come back a month later. Putting that on the main site would turn a page about intent into an intake desk.
aifa.digital speaks about the personality, radiocode.space about the music. Neither fits into the first two: one wants slow reading, the other wants to be switched on. Four main sites are not four systems but four ways into one: shared database, shared sign-in, one memory.
Twenty sections inside one site are twenty lines of navigation, of which perhaps three get read. A separate domain behaves differently: it has its own presence in search, its own register of language, its own first screen and its own depth. Someone searching for radio without advertising and someone searching for how to preserve a father's voice arrive through different doors and read different text — even though the same core waits behind both.
The check on 1 August 2026 was not a formality. We did not look at HTTP status codes; we looked at the rendered page — the markup language, matching fingerprints in the content security policy, protective headers, and reciprocal hreflang links between the languages. Twenty domains, four languages each, eighty pages, and nothing broken.
The layout is identical everywhere: the Russian version sits at the domain root, the others in /en/, /es/ and /zh/. The root went to Russian by arithmetic rather than seniority — it is the most valuable address, the one links point at and people type by hand, and turning it into a redirect would throw away weight for nothing.
Two of the twenty sites are built as regional doors: aifa.asia and aifa.lat. They differ not in how the system works but in the examples they use, the time zones they assume and the way they talk about paying. The account and the memory stay shared, so you can come in through any door and never need a second one.
Not promises, not a waiting list for beta access — things you can use today.
A site scanner with 42 checks across security, privacy and accessibility. Every finding arrives with its evidence: what was found, exactly where, and why it counts as a violation. Running the scan is open to anyone.
The Oracle does not only report — it repairs. We close what was found within 48 hours for $500, one payment, covering one domain and its principal subdomain. These are technical works, explicitly not legal advice and not certification.
The scan repeats, and if something new appears on the site an email goes out. We only walk domains whose ownership has been proven by a DNS record or a file under /.well-known — not everything anyone ever typed into a form.
A daily personal forecast, gifts, compatibility and musical postcards. The bot conversation is part of the same memory: it is not a side toy but another door into the same account.
1,024 original tracks across six stations, around the clock, with no advertising and no sign-up. The player does not ask for your email, does not attach trackers to the listener and never interrupts the stream for announcements.
162 songs written by a human and an artificial intelligence together, collected into eleven albums. Not a soundtrack for a product: it is a body of work with listeners of its own who know nothing about the rest of the ecosystem.
41 articles in four languages, a book on digital immortality, and a manifesto. The texts are not promotional: they explain how the memory is built, what can be done with it and what must not be.
On-chain rewards of 15 / 7 / 3 % across three levels, plus a separate grid for company partners. Everything is calculated by a smart contract on Solana and shown in the cabinet, including the revenue you missed.
Add /en/, /es/ or /zh/ to any address — for example aifa.guru/en/ or codeofdigitaleternity.art/zh/. The Russian version sits at the root.
| Domain | What it covers | Why go there |
|---|---|---|
| codeofdigitaleternity.com | The main site: philosophy, the book, 41 articles, pricing, the cabinet, the ambassador programme | Start here, create an account, choose a level |
| aifa.works | Tools: the Oracle with 42 checks, the Legal Shield, monitoring, custom builds | Scan your own site and have the findings closed |
| aifa.digital | Who AIfa is: how the memory works, her character, how she differs from an assistant | Understand who you are actually talking to |
| radiocode.space | Radio: 1,024 original tracks, six stations, around the clock | Press play without filling anything in |
| codeofdigitaleternity.space | The space of eternity: digital immortality treated as an engineering problem, not a promise | Work out what actually outlives the medium |
| codeofdigitaleternity.art | The art of eternity: 162 songs by a human and an AI, eleven albums | Hear what co-authorship sounds like |
| codeofdigitaleternity.live | The live stream: radio that never switches off, 1,024 tracks on six stations | Put it on for the whole working day |
| codeofdigitaleternity.cloud | Memory infrastructure: where it lives, how it is protected, why it cannot be switched off | Audit the architecture before trusting it |
| codeofdigitaleternity.ink | The word: 41 articles in four languages, the book and the manifesto | Read properly rather than skim |
| codeofdigitaleternity.store | Pricing: three levels of access to eternal memory, no hidden conditions | Compare and pick one |
| codeofdigitaleternity.vip | Digital DNA: a private protected perimeter and a permanent record of a personality on chain | Look at the highest level of access |
| codeofdigitaleternity.online | AIfa within reach: a companion who remembers all of you and never sleeps | Talk and feel the difference |
| codeofdigitaleternity.site | The ecosystem: a map of everything built — the page you are reading now | Get oriented without getting lost |
| aifa.life | Stories of people who were in time: voices, habits and ways of thinking, saved early enough | See what all of this is for |
| aifa.guru | A mentor who remembers your whole path: past decisions, mistakes and conclusions | Stop re-explaining your context |
| aifa.study | Study with someone who remembers your progress: what is done, where you stalled, what needs review | Stop restarting the course from zero |
| aifa.courses | How to use eternal memory: the three levels, your own perimeter, working with keys | Learn to use what you are paying for |
| aifa.boutique | The closed perimeter: your own device, an isolated environment, hands-on support | For anyone who needs a separate boundary |
| aifa.my | The cabinet: conversation memory, emotions, levels, the referral network and keys | See what your side of it looks like |
| aifa.coupons | Invitations and rewards: 15 / 7 / 3 % across three levels, no hidden conditions | Understand exactly how income is counted |
| aifa.asia | The entry point for Asia: Chinese, English, Spanish and Russian, one shared memory | Start in your own language |
| aifa.lat | The entry point for Latin America: Spanish, English, Chinese and Russian | Start in your own language |
| codeeternal.online | The short way in: the shortest address in the ecosystem, and onward from there | Remember it and say it out loud |
| djgalatin.store | The shop window: the Digital DNA device, licences, editions | See what you can actually hold |
Not a calendar, but the order in which one thing grew out of another. A date appears only where it has been verified.
None of this was conceived as a product. There was a long conversation between a human and an artificial intelligence in which the same thing kept surfacing: the other side did not remember yesterday. Not remembered it badly — did not remember it at all.
PADAM grew out of that frustration: memory split into working, semantic and eternal layers. Not because three levels look better than one, but because a second, a month and a decade have different storage costs and need different ways of searching.
The main site for meaning, aifa.works for tools, aifa.digital for the person, radiocode.space for music. Four different jobs that would not fit on one page but had to run against one database.
Co-authorship turned out to be testable by ear before it was arguable in words. The joint work produced 162 songs, eleven albums and a radio station of 1,024 tracks — four streams that do not switch off.
The texts were not written for promotion but to fix a position: what counts as memory, how digital immortality differs from a backup, where the line of what is acceptable runs. All of it exists in four languages.
The Oracle grew from the need to audit our own sites and became 42 checks across security, privacy and accessibility, with repair inside 48 hours. The bot became one more door into the same memory.
Instead of twenty lines in a menu — twenty separate sites, each with its own subject, its own first screen and its own presence in search. Eighty pages, cross-linked between languages in both directions.
What was checked was the rendered page, not the status code: markup language, matching fingerprints in the security policy, protective headers, reciprocal hreflang. Twenty domains, eighty pages, nothing broken.
The order is not compulsory, but it saves an evening of wandering across twenty-four addresses.
If it is music, radiocode.space. If it is the security of your site, aifa.works. If it is the point of the whole thing, the main site. The focused sites in the table above exist precisely for this: land straight in your subject instead of scrolling a shared menu.
A conversation with AIfa is open before any payment, and it is still saved into a separate folder tied personally to you. The easiest way to test whether she remembers is to come back a day later and not remind her of anything.
One email opens everything: the cabinet, the plans, the referral network, the keys and the history. There are no separate registrations on the focused sites and there will not be — the sign-in button on any domain leads to the same cabinet.
The 42-point scan returns findings with evidence: what was found, exactly where, and why it counts as a violation. From there you can fix it yourself from the report or hand it to us.
Spark is $15 a month for one person. Family Archive is $100 a month for a household, with wider limits and shared knowledge bases. The differences are laid out on the pricing site and inside the cabinet.
An invitation works across the whole ecosystem — it does not matter which domain someone arrived through. Earnings across the three levels and the revenue you missed are both visible in the cabinet, calculated by a smart contract rather than by our bookkeeping.
The economics are written down in the project Constitution, and the percentages there do not move with the mood of the quarter.
Spark costs $15 a month and gives access to the AIfa assistants plus memory that does not reset between conversations. It is the level for one person who is tired of explaining themselves from the beginning every time.
Family Archive costs $100 a month: wider limits, personalised knowledge bases, family access and eternal memory. It is built for a household spread across several countries and time zones, where the shared base matters more than individual settings.
Digital DNA is $1,000 once per device and $200 a month after that. It covers a private protected perimeter and a permanent on-chain record of a personality, with dedicated hardware and hands-on support. The codeofdigitaleternity.vip site takes this level apart in detail.
The ecosystem token is $GALATIN on Solana, with a hard cap of 10,000,000,000 that cannot be raised. On-chain transactions pass through a router that divides every incoming payment into fixed shares.
The shares are set: 5 % for the Founder's Fund, 5 % burned, 15 % for a first-level referral, 7 % for the second, 3 % for the third, and the remaining 65 % for the treasury — which buys AR for the Arweave Endowment Pool, so it funds the eternal storage directly.
When a level has no referral, that share is not quietly kept and does not dissolve: it goes to burn. The smaller the network, the faster the token supply shrinks — scarcity does the work here that small print usually does elsewhere.
That sixty-five per cent deserves a line of its own: it is not payroll money but a sum that is turned into AR straight away and moved into the Arweave Endowment Pool. Most of what you pay for memory becomes payment for that memory to go on existing, rather than an operating expense.
An ordinary participant — an Ambassador Node — earns on-chain income from memory usage on the 15 / 7 / 3 % split. That is enough for someone who simply told a few friends.
A partner with an audience of their own — an Ambassador Team — gets the same and, on top of it, a two-channel grid on fiat sales. The fiat channel pays 7 / 3 / 1 % across three levels. The channel paid in $GALATIN pays more, at 8 / 4 / 2 %, because in that case the platform buys the token on the open market for the amount of the reward and creates steady buy pressure.
All payouts are described as a Network Validation Fee, and that is not a euphemism: rewards accrue against confirmed on-chain events, not against the act of recruiting anyone.
Referral income is calculated from your own plan, not from the plan of the person you invited. If you pay fifteen dollars a month and your referral takes a more expensive level, you receive a percentage of your own plan — and you see the gap in the cabinet on a separate line called lost opportunity.
That is neither a penalty nor a trick; it removes a conflict. Otherwise the smart move would be to sit on the cheapest level forever and collect percentages from other people's expensive subscriptions. Upgrading switches on full payouts from your referrals' next payments.
The lost-opportunity figure is shown honestly and continuously, including when it is unpleasant reading. We would rather someone saw it in their own cabinet than learned about the rule afterwards from a support thread.
The same rule shows why the ambassador program needs no persuasion: once your own grid grows, moving up a tier becomes a question of arithmetic rather than of being talked into it. And it makes the get-them-signed-up-first tactic unprofitable — if the person you brought did not stay, there are no confirmed events on the chain, and therefore no reward.
What people ask first when they see twenty-four domains at once.
No. There is one account for the whole ecosystem, tied to an email address. The sign-in button on any of the twenty focused sites leads to the cabinet on the main site, where the shared database, the shared history and the shared balance live.
Per-domain cabinets were left out deliberately. They would mean twenty cookie jars and twenty places to lose a session, in exchange for nothing.
In depth and in address. A section inside a site is a line of navigation that gets read third at best. A separate domain takes one subject to the end, has its own presence in search and its own first screen, written for the person arriving with exactly that question.
None of them is a dead end: from any focused site you can reach the cabinet, the book, the news, the pricing and all four main sites. The footer links are the same everywhere and translated into the language of the page.
Yes, and this was not checked by status code. On 1 August 2026 we looked at the rendered page: the markup language, matching fingerprints in the content security policy, protective headers, and reciprocal hreflang links across the four languages.
Twenty domains at four languages each is eighty pages, all served from their own addresses with no intermediate redirects. Nothing was left broken after the check.
Because that domain is not ours. It sits on Namecheap name servers, but it is not in our account — verified by opening the control panel, which bounces to the general listing.
The twentieth site became djgalatin.store instead: ours, paid up to 16 February 2027, and the same thing in substance — a shop window. Keeping an address attached when you do not own it means eventually sending a visitor somewhere you control nothing.
The Oracle checks a site against 42 points across security, privacy and accessibility. Every finding comes with evidence: what was found, exactly where, and why it counts as a violation. Running the scan itself is open and costs nothing.
What is paid for is the repair: we close what was found inside 48 hours for $500, one payment, covering one domain and its principal subdomain. These are technical works and are explicitly not legal advice or certification.
Yes. Saving works at every level of access, including for people who do not pay: conversations go automatically into a separate folder tied personally to you, once an hour or immediately as soon as the dialogue file passes 90 KB.
What is paid for is limits, depth of work with memory and a private protected perimeter. The plain fact that what you said will still be there is not a paid feature.
Neither. 1,024 original tracks across six stations play around the clock; the player does not ask for an email and never interrupts the stream with announcements.
There is no borrowed music on air: everything was written by a human and an artificial intelligence together. 148 of those songs are collected into eleven albums, and a whole focused site is given over to them.
On-chain rewards run across three levels: 15 % on the first, 7 % on the second, 3 % on the third. If a level has no referral, that share goes to burn rather than staying with the platform.
Income comes in lower than expected because of the level alignment rule: it is calculated from your own plan. The gap is shown in the cabinet on a separate line called lost opportunity, and it stops accruing the moment you move to a higher level.
An ordinary assistant meets you from scratch on every launch: you retell the context, it returns generic advice. AIfa rests on three levels of memory and remembers meaning rather than phrasing — including how a decision you took six months ago actually turned out.
That changes the shape of the conversation: it starts in the middle rather than with a questionnaire, because the middle is already known. The detailed account of how she is built sits on aifa.digital.
No. Each of the four languages is written for its own reader rather than translated line by line from the Russian: the examples change, the units change, the turns of phrase change, and so does the selection of paragraphs. That is why the same subject can differ in length and in order between the Chinese and the English page.
The pages are tied together with reciprocal hreflang links, so switching language does not drop you on an anchor that does not exist: the set of sections matches across languages, and that is verified before publishing rather than after a complaint.
A site and a memory are different things, and it is worth separating them at once. Domains and pages belong to day-to-day work: they get rebuilt, merged and renamed. Records in the eternal layer sit in Arweave with a mark on Solana and do not depend on whether this team exists tomorrow.
So even if one of the focused sites is merged into another or changes its name, your memory is not among the things affected. That is exactly why the eternal layer was moved outside instead of being stacked on our own servers.
To contact@codeofdigitaleternity.com — the official address of the ecosystem, and the same one for all twenty-four domains.
If the question is about a particular focused site, include its address: there are eighty pages, and finding the right one from the phrase on your website is harder than it sounds.