A gram is the smallest thing that can prove itself. Three to five people, sharing the machines they already own, running work that the machines then sign.
The word does double duty, and both meanings are the point. A gram is the smallest unit you can weigh. ग्राम is a village — the smallest community that governs itself.
No account, no cluster, no console. The daemon runs on the laptop you are reading this on.
Processor throughput, memory, network, storage. The machine signs each measurement with its own device key, so anyone can check the number without trusting you — or us.
Your phone. A partner’s laptop. A box under the desk. The moment a second person’s device joins, the gram is real: work can run somewhere other than where it was asked for.
A gram needs no community, no region, and no company. It talks to us because you told it to, and it stops when you say so. Nothing we run can reach into your machine.
It is not a trial of something larger. There is no locked feature inside it waiting for a payment, and no limit that lifts when you become important to us. An institution’s gram has an admission list, an audit trail and someone on the hook for it at 3am. It is the same gram.
The node is the same binary we run ourselves, and the numbers it reports are the ones on our proof page.
Get the node