Initializing AInsure
AI systems are preparing your experience...
Initializing AInsure
AI systems are preparing your experience...
The Vault
TRON · Base
If you stop checking in, the people you name get the message and instructions you left. Nothing here holds a key, and nothing here moves money.
Around $140 billion in Bitcoin is permanently lost because owners died without passing on access. The coins are still there; nobody can reach them. What gets lost is almost never the key itself — it is the knowledge that a safe deposit box exists, which bank holds it, and who has the other half.
Check in
Miss one and you get a month of increasingly loud reminders before anybody else is contacted. One click resets it.
A switch that counts only answered email is fooled by a changed address or an inbox you stopped reading — both of which look exactly like death. A signed transaction does not. If any address here moves funds, the clock resets whether you read our email or not.
Cover note — we can read this
Plain text, stored as written, and readable by us — so put nothing secret here. It exists because it needs no passphrase, and for many people it is the whole answer. 500 characters left.
Sealed instructions — we cannot read these
Write a map, not a key. “The phrase is in the safe deposit box at First National, box 214; the passphrase is with my sister Anna” — not the seed phrase itself. A map still needs physical access to be worth anything, so it survives a leak. A seed phrase does not.
You name the people it goes to in the next step, from the link we email you.