The week

A turn lasts one week. It lands on a dated Monday, the same one for everybody on your world.

Between two turns there is nothing to watch. Your Hexes produce, your standing orders go to the market without you, your contribution goes to whichever planetary gauge is furthest behind, and the following Monday the game reports what your rules did.

The game asks for decisions, not attendance

If you take one thing from this page, this is it.

You lose nothing by not signing in on Tuesday. There is no harvest to collect before it spoils, no building to restart, no streak to keep alive. What moves between two turns moves because you decided it the week before, not because you were at the screen at the right moment.

What a session actually looks like: you read what the week produced, you adjust an order or you leave it alone, you decide on a purchase, and you go. Some weeks the right decision is to change nothing.

When the game says no, it says why

This is uncommon enough to deserve its own paragraph.

A refused action does not hand you an error. It hands you a reason, in the game's own words: that Hex is not adjacent to your domain, your balance is below the asking price, that Hex belongs to a sleeping player and is protected. There is a closed list of possible refusals, each written to be read by the person it happens to.

And before you commit, the game quotes the price. A claim tells you what it would cost before you confirm it, not after.

What the week gives you

On Monday the turn resolves in a fixed order: your Hexes produce according to their element and your profession, the market clears, your contribution is taken, and the report is written.

You get one weekly summary, and that is the default: one notification a week, describing something that has already happened. You can ask for more, or less, or none. No notification in this game will ever ask you to come back now.

What the week does not do

It does not catch you up and it does not put you behind. Someone who plays every week and someone who plays one Monday in four are playing the same game, faster or slower.

It also does not end on a clock. An era ends when the world finishes its tree of collective works, never after a set number of weeks. Nobody, us included, can tell you when.