WAYWARD ROBOTS
The Wayward Robots ecosystem: L.A.N.C.E., the silver-bearded gentleman in his pinstriped circuit suit, stands on a lantern-lit dock with Skip the wooden dog beside him, the brass ship at anchor and a wooden city of lamps climbing the hill behind.

Practice software that keeps your clients’ records in your own building.

A clinical workspace you install on your own computer, and three story worlds that carry the work home between sessions. Built in a live practice by a licensed counselor with twenty-five years and more than 25,000 clients.

Clinical machines designed to take over your heart, not the world.

Enter the StoreThe Lighthouse and three worlds — everything for sale

Where the record lives

There is no company in the middle.

The Lighthouse is not a login. It is an application that runs on your Mac or PC. The session is heard on that machine, the note is drafted there by a model that runs there, and the record is stored there. Which means there is no agreement to sign with us, and no third party whose breach could become yours. That is not a setting you switch on — it is the only way it is built.

What the Lighthouse does
Proven, not promised The install refuses to serve your record to anything but the machine it is on. We boot it and probe every address this computer answers on, every release.
It says where it thinks An in-house Lighthouse reports “nothing is sent to any model provider” — computed from the code that would do the sending, not typed into a page.
A second copy, on your terms It writes a verified copy wherever you point it — this computer, an external drive, a network volume, iCloud, Google Drive, OneDrive or Dropbox — every 12 hours, and tells you the last time it actually worked. It names what you chose and leaves the choice to you.
Two honest exceptions The demo on this page runs on our server with invented clients and the scribe switched off — that is why it opens with no card. And a client world syncs only what the client chooses to send.

Who’s asking

Two ways in.

The same island, read two different ways. Nothing here is hidden behind the other door.

I see clients

You need somewhere to put the work.

  • Clients, calendar, a one-link telehealth room, and a studio you and a client can both reach into — a sand tray you move together from two cities.
  • A scribe that drafts the note before you have closed the room, with every line anchored to the transcript that produced it.
  • Assign any of the ninety-seven tools to a client’s phone in one tap, and honest receipts come home to their card.
  • Your own practice assistant — your instructions, your policies, your voice. Not ours.

$49.99 /month, introductory and locked at the price you join on

I’m here for me

You don’t need a licence to walk in.

  • An island that teaches by story — five acts, thirty-one challenges, ninety-seven real clinical tools inside them.
  • A voyage for getting your habits back, crewed by robots who were each almost thrown away.
  • A shore built for couples and families to sit around a fire together.
  • They pair with a therapist’s Lighthouse if they run one — and work perfectly well if they don’t.

$19.99 /month each · anyone can subscribe

The Lighthouse

This is it, first thing in the morning.

Not a mock-up and not a promise — the working software, showing a made-up practice you can walk through right now without a card, a signup, or anything to fill in.

The Lighthouse Today screen: the day's sessions, the hours still owed a note, and what to confirm.
The morning readToday’s sessions, the hours still owed a note, and what to confirm — built from real events, so signing a note clears its own task.
A client's page in the Lighthouse: the fortnight in one screen, in the client's own words.
The client, before they arriveA fortnight in one screen, in their own words — and a missed hour says it was missed, rather than leaving a gap.
A drafted clinical note in the Lighthouse, with fields anchored to the transcript lines that produced them.
The noteDrafted from the hour and anchored to the lines that support it. A sentence the model cannot point to is dropped, not printed.
Walk through it yourself Everything it does →

The worlds

Hand someone ninety-seven tools and they try two.

Wrap them in a world worth returning to and they find the one they needed. A therapist sees forty-five minutes of a week that holds 10,080 — these are for the rest of it.

Landfall: a lantern-lit island at dusk, the keeper's lighthouse sweeping over a wooden city.

RewireXAI

Landfall

An island of story-wrapped therapeutic tools — CBT, DBT, EMDR pacing, parts work, grounding — carried by a five-act story that hands you back your own name.

$19.99/moExplore →
The recovery voyage: a brass ship at anchor under a wide sky, its wake glowing.

RehabitXAI

Copperheart

Recovery as a crossing — a real curriculum carried by a crew of copper robots who were each almost thrown away. It opens as a painted film, told by Buddy.

$19.99/moExplore →
Driftwood: a family's shipwrecked camp at dusk, a fire circle on the sand.

ReconnectXAI

Driftwood

Couples and families shipwrecked on the same shore, where nothing important works alone. Twenty campfire games, a walkable island, and a full-ring origin film told by Skip.

$19.99/moExplore →

Assign a tool on Tuesday and know by Tuesday night. One code pairs a client in seconds, either side can disconnect at any time, and the client’s world survives whole on their own device. What a couple says to each other at Driftwood’s waterfall never crosses the bridge at all — by design, and asserted by our test suite.

XAI Therapy™ — the standard

Why trust anything that can’t explain itself?

Wayward Robots is the studio. XAI Therapy is the standard everything here is built to — a discipline for keeping AI’s role in the room small, visible, and answerable to a human.

The industry’s version

Take an opaque model, let it listen, then ask it to explain itself afterwards. The research is clear that those explanations are plausible stories, not faithful readouts of what the model actually did. The explanation is bolted on, and it is not true.

Ours

Never build the black box. The tools generate structured, framework-tagged data by design — a thought record natively holds the situation, the automatic thought, the distortion named, the evidence, the reframe, and the belief rating before and after. The explanation is the native shape of the data.

I

Transparency

No “proprietary” curtain. The client sees what the clinician sees about them. Where AI helped build the products themselves, we say so — out loud, in the apps.

II

Interpretability

A belief rating that dropped. A distortion, named. An avoidance pattern with dates on it. Readable in seconds, actionable in session, no decoding required.

III

Explainability

Evidence, plus the named clinical framework, plus a human who decides. Never a story pried out of a model after the fact.

The model never writes a clinical judgement.

Not prognosis. Not a billing code. Not “the client appears anxious.” Asked about suicidal ideation on a transcript where it was raised and explicitly denied, a model returned nothing at all — and “denied” is a documented assessment, while nothing is a hole in the record. So the model is never asked. Your standing lines are placed into the note afterwards, where nothing it writes can reach them. Anything drafted that is a judgement rather than an observation arrives marked unconfirmed, and the note cannot be signed until a human has read it and accepted it. That refusal lives in the software, not in a policy document.

A painted crossing: a small boat built from driftwood on an empty sea, under a storm sky.

One island. Three eras. One law.

It starts with a boy and a boat.

One man built tools so his boy could live. The tools outlived their purpose — and went looking for more people to help.

Gullhaven, 1929. A boy nobody kept builds a boat from driftwood and a flour sack and sails for an island that shouldn’t exist. He fails to fix the sun, so he builds ninety-seven tools instead — one for each friend’s particular sadness. Everything here grows out of that one crossing. Your clients don’t get a toolbox; they get a world with a memory.

Read the story

The store

Start free. Keep the price you started on.

The Lighthouse

An XAI Clinical Workspace

$49.99 /month

  • Introductory, rising to $69.99 — locked at whichever price you join on, for as long as you stay
  • Installed on your own machine. No hosted record, no agreement to sign with us
  • A full demo workspace first — no card, no clock
Go to the store

The worlds

Landfall · the voyage · Driftwood

$19.99 /month each

  • You don’t have to be a clinician to subscribe
  • They pair with a therapist’s Lighthouse — and work on their own if you don’t have one
  • Your entries live on your device; you choose what is ever sent
See everything for sale

30 days, full refund, no questions asked — write to ask@lancenabers.com and I send the money back. That is the whole guarantee, and it is the same sentence on every page that makes it.

Every world. One law.

The tools will answer.

These products are practitioner-run. You configure every safety surface for your own jurisdiction and your own clients — the worlds carry your plan, never a hard-coded one. We are used in more than one country, and a number written for one place does not answer in another. We make no compliance claim we have not earned, and we say exactly what each product is and isn’t.

How safety works →