A note at the basket: make sure it says "1 to 3 HUB", the plain splitter; the similar-looking "PaHub" will refuse to play with the cube.
The bars on screen — where to look
The cube does not show a table of numbers. It shows bars, and a glance from the far end of the sofa tells you whether anything is off. Below is the screen in its real proportions — this is how it actually sits.
dew point · tendencytemperature · CO₂
The drawing matches the layout pixel for pixel — the heights and gaps come straight from the code that paints this screen.
Halfway down · thick
How stuffy it is
How much used-up air has gathered in the room. The further right and the warmer the colour, the worse — you do not have to read the number to see it. Once the bar reaches amber, thinking usually gets heavy and sleep gets harder. That is when the cube says it plainly, right under the bar: open a window. The two notches on the track are the points worth reacting to.
Immediately beneath · a hairline
Whether something changed
Three times thinner than the one above and pressed right against it — easy to miss until you know it is there. Over its first few days the cube learns what your room is like normally. After that this line rises when something turns up in the air that usually is not there — cooking, fresh paint, a damp wardrobe, cleaning products. When things are as usual, it stays empty.
Along the bottom edge · edge to edge
Dry or damp
The only bar that touches the edge of the screen — that is how you spot it. It tells you how much moisture hangs in the air. Too dry scratches your throat, too damp grows mould on the wall behind the wardrobe. It changes colour when the room gets too dry. Above the bars, in the card at the top, sits the dew point — the temperature at which water starts settling on glass. When it climbs towards the temperature of your window, wipe it down.
With the CO2 module alone there are two bars, not three. The hairline appears only once you add a module that measures gases — and the thick bar above it then gives up a little height to make room. Nothing else on the screen moves.
The middle bar says something changed — it does not say what. The sensor answers many different things with one number and can name none of them. So the cube will not replace a carbon-monoxide alarm or a smoke detector — buy certified devices for those two and hang them where they belong. It does not measure airborne dust either; that is a separate sensor and it is not here.
What the cube can do
Whichever set you pick, the same heart runs the same system inside. The sensors only give it senses.
222 stations
The whole Polish dial in one picker. Each one measured before it entered. You pick nine and change them whenever you like.
Your speaker
Plays on its own, or over Bluetooth. Pairing is remembered for good.
Sleep noise
White, pink, brown. Born inside the cube, so it plays even when the internet is down.
The air in digits
How stuffy the room is, from the far end of the couch. No glasses needed.
Warns, not scares
Says "air the room" a dozen minutes before the threshold, not after it.
Weather off the shelf
Pressure with an arrow, like in the shipping forecast. You can see change coming.
No app
First start through the cube's own network. Type your Wi-Fi password. Play.
A battery inside
Carry the cube from room to room without hunting for a socket along the way.
Your radio. Actually yours.
The cube has no account, no cloud and no app, so it does not know who you are, and it has nobody to tell. It plays at your place, for you. Smells appear as a change against your own room, and it is not a carbon monoxide detector, nor does it pretend to be.
Drawn to the details? The technical page has everything I left out on purpose: per-station measurements, the source code, and the design decisions with their reasons.
