Every way a player's hand can touch the deck, defined exactly as the engine plays them. One law governs them all: a blind transformation cannot know what it is moving. Reverse, Rotate, Fold, and Bury move face-down cards by count, not identity — the Heart rides with the rest if it stands in the window. The fire is the one legal exception: Burn reveals what it eats, which is why it can stop at the Heart and pass over Seals. A reveal rule, not a position rule.
Pay to see. The top N cards are shown to you, nearest first — nothing moves; they return exactly where they were. Sight costs 1 Thread (2 in Deep Dark) unless the lane prints its own Thread price; a printed price already pays for the look — the tax is never a surcharge. What you see, you may write down: the maze taxes labor, not information.
The same purchase at the other end of the deck — the last N cards, in order. The bottom of the deck matters more than new players expect: Bury sends cards there, and the deck is always shrinking toward it.
The card N deep rises to the top; every card above it slips down one. A rotation is the maze breathing — one deep card surfaces, the near future delays by a turn each.
The top N cards reverse their order. What was Nth is now next; what was next is now Nth. If you knew the run, you still know it — backwards.
The next A cards and the B cards beneath them swap places as blocks, each block keeping its internal order. The strongest surgical tool in the game: a fold can pull a needed card ahead of a dreaded one — if your notes are good enough to know which is which.
Exile. The top N cards go to the literal bottom of the deck, in order, behind everything — behind the Heart. Bury is blind and grants no new sight: what you already knew, you still know; what you didn't, you have merely postponed. A buried threat is not a solved threat, but in a shrinking deck, it is often close.
Some cards refuse to be finished with you: the card slides back into the deck N cards deep. You watched it sink, so its position is honestly known — the one transformation that comes with free information. Declined Seals sink. So does the Heart, when you fail it.
The fire eats from the top of the deck, one card at a time, revealing each card as it goes. You choose how many burn — from 1 up to the printed maximum — at 1 Thread per card. Denizens burn free: the maze eats its own. Seals are passed over untouched, and the fire stops dead at the Heart. Burned cards lie face up in the ash pile, the fire's public ledger.
Name any card in the ashes; the maze disgorges it face down onto the top of the deck. You know what it is — the fire showed you — and its own lanes still resolve when you meet it. The recall moves nothing else. Necromancy has one limit: loot that burned is gone forever; only the card returns.
Name something about the next card — its type, its glyph, or its exact name — before it is revealed. Right: the printed reward. Wrong: the printed Health penalty. Either way, the wager reveals the card. While LOST you cannot wager: you cannot name what you cannot place. A wager backed by paid sight is a purchase; a blind wager is a donation. The verified record so far: the game's best players have never lost one.
Compass below 0 (below −1 with the Stone Compass). Hazards bite twice as hard, wagers lock — and if the Heart is revealed while you are LOST, you cannot find the door: you lose 1 Health and the Heart sinks 3. Three of the first four losses on this site ended in the final act's compass gauntlet. The devlog has the autopsies.
Declining a Seal leaves it angrier: each decline costs Health equal to the number of times you declined that Seal before, then adds one to the count. Opening it never festers — and dodging the meeting entirely with a transformation costs nothing at all.
The Maze must be fed. One card, late in the deck, offers to feed it — the FED mark is the fourth requirement at the Heart's door, beside 3 Seals, 2 Relics, and the 3-Thread toll.