HYPER
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you are not the only one who works like this

Hyperfocus is not your problem.
It is your SUPERPOWER.

HYPER turns your deepest focus into finished work — and makes getting there feel like a ritual, not a chore.

Go deep into what moves you.

Every focus app tries to manage you —

HYPER protects the state instead.
No streaks. No shame. Leaving leaves no trace.

The ritual

Walk in scattered.
Come out unstoppable.

The Threshold

Twenty seconds that flip the switch. The room darkens, the light breathes — and your brain learns: this is where the deep begins.

Hyper Mode

One mission. Zero noise. A living light show holds the room while you disappear into the work. The clock never guilts you.

The Echo

On the way out, one question: what exists now that didn’t before? Feel the win land. Then watch it join everything else you’ve made.

The sacred room

A place your brain
wants to return to.

This is Hyper Mode — breathing beside you right now. The visualization pulses, the chrome melts away, and time stops being an enemy.

  • The Void holds the room — a breathing star, trance-grade, bright enough for daylight
  • The clock counts up, never down — time on your side, zero pressure
  • The teal dock rides the edge — set a thought down mid-flow, the clock never resets

The Brain

Watch your obsession
become a galaxy.

Every session becomes a node. Every project, a constellation you can grab, spin and dive through. The work you pour the most into literally glows the brightest.

The Vault

Proof you finish things.

0sessions
0HOURS IN HYPERFOCUS
3h 8mlongest

Every deep dive rests here like a museum piece — your echoes, your moods, your music. Forgot to record one live? Log the hours by hand after the fact and it becomes a full session, counted like any other — no lesser record. On the days your brain says “you never finish anything”, the Vault answers with receipts.

Fidgets

Restless hands, welcome.

A shelf of endless sensory toys for the spinning mind — no scores, no timers, pure feel. Try three of them, right here:

Halo · the precision spinner, flick it
Lava · molten light, drag it around
Kaleido · an infinite neon mandala, stir it

…and in the app: Magnet with real haptics, Bloom the ink garden, the Super Spinner — with every future toy landing in Deep.

Dopamine

The good kind of hit.

HYPER's little arcade for the restless mind — fast, glowing, kind. No ads, no timers, no guilt. Four of them, live right here:

VOID · fall the sky-road — slide to weave
Orbs · twin stars threading the gates — hold to spin
Black Hole · fall through the kaleidoscope — drag to turn
Signal · notes fly out of the dark — be where they land

Make it real

Start strong.
Actually finish.

You know the arc — a supernova of momentum, then the middle swallows it. HYPER carries your momentum across sessions, so the ideas that light you up become things that exist.

The Slip

Park a thought without leaving the deep. It greets you at your next session: “where you left off…”

Embers

A project gone quiet still glows. “This still holds 16 hours of you — return to it?” An invitation, never a debt.

The Summit

Finish a body of work and its node crystallizes forever in your Brain. You didn’t just focus. You made a thing that exists.

HYPER Deep

The whole ritual is free, forever.
The deep end is for going further.

Free, forever

  • The whole ritual — the Threshold crossing, Hyper Mode, the Echo. Unlimited sessions, always.
  • The Vault — every session kept like a museum piece: your words, moods, music
  • Patterns — mirrors of your own rhythm, never a report card
  • The Slip — park thoughts mid-flow; they greet you next session
  • Safekeeping — HYPER keeps quiet copies on the phone, and writes you a backup file of the whole Vault whenever you ask
  • Dopamine — the arcade is free to begin: Void, Orbs, Black Hole, Signal
  • Starter fidgets + visualizations to feel the spectacle
  • No ads. No account. No traps. Your data never leaves your phone.

HYPER Deep

  • The Brain — your whole body of work as a living 3D galaxy you orbit and dive through
  • The Summit — finish a project and its node crystallizes forever; a monument stands in your Vault
  • Embers — “this still holds 16 hours of you” — your best ideas re-invite you back
  • The Thread — the making-of story of each project, session by session
  • The Almanac — the record of your seasons, written in prose and walked back through time
  • Your Weather — proof that heavy days still go deep
  • The full fidget cabinet — Lava, Kaleido, Magnet, Super Spinner + every future toy
  • Every visualization — Aurora, Nebula, Orbit, Monolith, all trance-grade
  • Premium share cards — your stats, dressed to be seen
  • First in line — everything HYPER builds next opens here first. Your price never rises.
$4.99monthly
$34.99yearly · 14 days free
$89.99once, lifetime

Straight answers

Your work, and where it lives.

Nothing here is softened for the website. On your data these are the same words the app uses, in the order its own Guide tells them: what you have, then what keeps it.

Do I need an account?

No. There is no account, no password and nothing to sign into — HYPER opens straight into the void. The only sign-in anywhere in the app is Spotify's own, if you choose to connect your music, and that happens on Spotify's page. HYPER never sees your password.

Where does my data live, and who else can see it?

Everything you make — every session, every project, every thought you set down — lives on your device and nowhere else. There is no account and no server. HYPER has never held a copy of any of it.

No analytics SDK, no advertising identifier, no behavioural tracker of any kind. Nothing you write is transmitted anywhere by HYPER — not for backup, not for improvement, not for training anything. It also shows you no one live: no count of who is working right now, nobody to see and nobody who can see you — producing one would mean your phone reporting in, and it never does. What the globe carries instead is a quarterly, dated count of downloads by country, read once per launch from the same small public file every phone asks for; that request sends nothing.

Two crash-shaped things worth naming because they are easy to miss. If HYPER itself crashes, it sends one report so the bug can be fixed — the stack trace, the phone model, OS and app version, and which screen was open. It never contains anything you wrote, file paths are stripped before it leaves, and it is processed by Sentry with no identity to link to, because HYPER has none. Separately, if your phone shares crash diagnostics with Apple or Google, the crash can also appear in the store's own developer console — that part is your phone's setting.

That is the privacy, and this is its whole cost, said plainly rather than buried: HYPER cannot bring your Vault back, and nobody can. Not because we won't — because it was never ours to hold.

So HYPER makes the copies for you. After you leave the app it quietly writes your whole Vault into its own storage, where your phone's own backup carries it off the device — as long as you have that switched on. One row in Settings → Safekeeping saves that same Vault as a single file you keep wherever you like: Files, a drive, an email to yourself. The row beneath it puts everything back from that file. And you can point HYPER at a folder you own — in iCloud Drive, Google Drive, anywhere your files app reaches — where fresh copies then land on their own: on Android without you, on iPhone the next time you open the app. Off the phone either way, out of reach of anything that happens to it. The next two answers are exact about how far each of those goes.

Does HYPER back anything up on its own?

Yes — and here is exactly how far that reaches, because a promise bigger than the truth would be worse than no promise at all.

After you leave the app — never during a session — HYPER quietly writes a copy of your whole Vault into its own storage, at most once every six hours, keeping the last five. It reads each one back off the disk to be sure it would actually restore. Those copies sit where your phone's own backup can carry them off the device — so, as long as that backup is switched on, they survive replacing the phone, removing the app and putting it back, and a phone that dies.

What they do not survive: they live inside HYPER's own container on the phone. Clear storage deletes them in the same tap that deletes the Vault, and with your phone's backup — iCloud Backup, or Google One on Android — switched off, none of the three cases above survives either: the copies never leave the phone, so they go wherever it goes. There is nowhere on the phone HYPER can write to by itself that survives that button.

Which is why the copy you keep somewhere else is the one that matters.

How do I make sure I always have a way back?

One file, kept anywhere but this phone, and there is a way back from every ordinary way a Vault actually goes. Losing the phone is not the likeliest of them: uninstalling HYPER, tapping Clear storage in your phone's app settings, or setting up a new phone and skipping this one's app data each empty it just as completely, and all three are ordinary taps, usually taken while freeing up space. A backup file brings everything back — it is the only thing that can, and writing one takes seconds. Here is how to keep a good one.

Write one. Settings → Safekeeping → save a backup. HYPER writes a single file with your whole Vault inside it and hands it to your phone to put somewhere: Files, a drive, an email to yourself. Where it lives after that, and whether it is still there in a year, is yours.

Keep it off this phone. A copy that exists only on the phone it came from dies with the phone.

Better still, point HYPER at a folder you own — in iCloud Drive, Google Drive, anywhere your files app reaches — and copies land there on their own. That is the copy that survives Clear storage, because it isn't on the phone. On Android the folder stays chosen; on iOS your phone lends it only while the app is open, so the first copy after you come back takes one tap to confirm. HYPER keeps the last five it wrote there, removes its own older ones, and never touches anything else in that folder.

Write a fresh one after any stretch of work you'd hate to redo. A backup is a photograph of a moment, not a live mirror — it holds what existed when you made it, and nothing after.

Know what restoring does. Restoring replaces what is on the phone with what is in the file. It does not merge the two. HYPER shows you both columns first — what is in the file, what is on this device — and the last step is a hold rather than a tap, because it cannot be undone.

Keep the file as private as the work. Everything you wrote is legible inside it. It never travels to us; it goes wherever you send it.

And the part only you can do: we cannot recover a backup you have lost, repair one that is damaged, or produce one that was never made.

How do I move to a new phone?

Save a backup on the old phone and put the file somewhere both phones can reach. Install HYPER on the new one, then Settings → Safekeeping → restore from a backup. Everything arrives: sessions, projects, thoughts, the Brain, the Vault.

Then write a fresh backup from the new phone. HYPER treats a restored Vault as one that has never been copied yet — and it is right to: the file you restored from is already ageing on the old phone's timeline. Being asked again is the correct answer, not an alarm.

What happens if I delete the app?

Write a backup file first and you can delete freely: it holds the whole Vault, and restoring it later puts all of it back. Without one, deleting HYPER takes the Vault with it — there is no account to close, nothing left on a server, and no one to tell. Deleting is the erasure, and the backup file is the export.

If your phone's own backup is switched on it may carry HYPER's latest copy across a reinstall, but that is your phone's promise rather than ours. The file is the one that is entirely yours.

The whole of both documents, in plain words, lives on the privacy page and inside the app under Settings → Privacy & terms.

The deep is always open. Nobody is waiting in it, nobody is watching — it is just there, whenever you are.