Category · Classic and modern
Short runs, high scores, one more try.
6 games
Take the key, then outrun what it was holding shut.
Dr Elias Vale takes the Sun Key out of the mechanism it was part of, and the complex above him begins to close. Four inputs, seven parts of a machine that was never a temple, and a corridor that is generated as you run it and proved runnable before it ships. There is a new complex every day and everybody gets the same one.
Two buttons, ten machines, a hundred and five hills.
Ironvale runs a scrapyard the size of a town, and once a year it runs the Scrap Run. Right is the engine, left is the brake, and in the air both of them are the only steering you have. A hundred and five courses across six areas, ten machines built out of what the yard had lying about, and every course driven by machine before it shipped.
One button, one rope, the whole city.
A courier crosses Aurora Stack on a grappling line. Press to throw, hold to swing, let go to fly. There is no steering in the air, so every landing is decided before you leave the rope. A hundred and twenty stages across six districts, every one of them proved flyable by machine before it shipped.
The floor is lying to you.
A hundred and two rooms inside a simulation that was never meant to run. Every trap is fair the second time, every restart is instant, and the voice guiding you has been down here since 1995.
The network is down. Run the cartridge across the city.
Nova City, 1994. A courier carries the one copy of what NOVACOM did not want printed, and the only way it reaches the press is on foot. Eight districts, forked routes you choose by running into them, and a city that is different every night unless you take the daily.
Tiny cars. One whole apartment.
Race a pocket sized car through a real apartment, where a sofa is a building and a chair leg is a chicane. Nine rooms, no barriers, one continuous flat to learn by heart.
