we make games
that rot your brain

you are a small bird over an endless forest, and a hawk has decided you are lunch. gravity never stops working, so you have to flap to stay up — with your actual arms, in front of your webcam, like wings. lean your body to bank and turn. tuck your arms to your sides to fold your wings and dive out from under a swoop. flap too much and your stamina goes, flap too little and the forest comes up to meet you. then flip it around: hunt mode hands you the hawk, and the little birds are the ones running. no webcam? keys and touch fly it just as well.

• no download, no install — your webcam is the controller, and keyboard and touch work too
• an endless 3D forest generated as you fly, with mountains scattered across it and weather that turns from clear skies to fog to a thunderstorm as you go
• a hawk that hangs back, then screeches and swoops — dodge it or become lunch
• two modes over one forest: escape the hawk for distance, or fly the hawk yourself and hunt the little birds before your hunger meter runs out
• your camera never leaves your browser: the pose tracking runs on your own device, nothing is uploaded or recorded

meet greg, the interdimensional custodian. dr. mayhem keeps ripping open portals and gooing entire worlds — a toaster planet, a pickle supermarket, a jungle, a highway — and cleanup, naturally, is your problem. laser the space junk into scrap, switch to the vacuum and suck up the glowing radioactive goo, and mop each sector spotless before the radiation meter fills. let it fill and mayhem files a complaint and you mop it again. day 847. the stains scream. you no longer answer.

• no download, no install — it runs in the browser, WASD + J/K or full touch controls
• five hand-built sectors of Dr. Mayhem’s mess, each with its own goo, junk and unhinged commentary
• a radiation meter racing you to the end of every shift — clock out a hero or mop it all again
• every frame drawn in code and every sound synthesised live — not a single image file in the whole game

welcome to blamco interdimensional research. you are the new hire, the job is one big red button, and nobody will tell you what it does. walk into it with your body. do it 500 times and corporate sends you a mug. the catch: every press mildly ruins a universe somewhere, and reality starts filing complaints — gravity flips, the floor turns to soup, the colours invert, everyone becomes bread. meanwhile a burping voice in the ceiling narrates your every mistake and reminds you the doors are decorative.

• no download, no install — it runs in the browser, WASD or arrow keys
• reality glitches that rewrite the game as you play: inverted gravity, grayscale budget cuts, a sentient cursor, and a fish government issuing emergency decrees
• a sanity meter that drains while a rat, a placebo button and an interdimensional pop-up ad all try to end your shift early
• a boss who is just a voice, a burp, and an unshakeable belief that you are replaceable

the whole back four wants your ankles. hop between three lanes, jump the slide tackles, dodge the ones still standing, and keep the ball at your feet as the pitch gets faster and faster. then the golden orb shows up — grab it and your striker goes full rampage: pink kit, lime mane flying, the chant at full volume, and every defender on the pitch becomes a stepping stone.

• no download, no install — it runs in the browser, keyboard or touch
• grab the golden orb to go SUPER and smash straight through defenders
• a terrace chant synthesised live in your browser, swelling the moment you transform
• every pixel drawn in code and every sound synthesised — zero media files in the whole game

the cat has swiped nana’s glasses and legged it across the skyline, and there is now exactly one plan: chase. sprint the sun-soaked rooftops, leap the gaps, slide the barriers and keep your footing for as long as you can. let the balance meter slip and the whole city goes sideways — colours warp, the skyline bends, the horizon doubles and the clock starts closing in. grab a cuppa to steady yourself, or ride the wobble for the high score. your call, nana.

• dizzy spells — lose your footing and the whole skyline bends around you
• power-ups worth the detour: catch a kite and soar clean over the city
• a balance meter, a stumble system, and a clock that closes in when your footing goes
• global, national and local leaderboards — google or guest, no account faff

one very brave spider, zero respect for gravity. tap to flip and sprint across the floor and the ceiling — dodge fire, bug spray, spikes and swinging lamps, snatch bees and power-ups, then scramble home to the web before the 40 seconds run out. clear it, go faster, do it again.

• endless levels that get faster every clear
• power-ups — shield, ×2 score, magnet, slow-mo
• spend bees on spider skins: knight, astronaut, hobo…
• tiny download, one-thumb controls, plays offline

every floor looks easy. it is lying to you. the tiles drop out, spikes erupt, ceilings slam and the sewage keeps rising — and most of the tower is pitch black, so all you get is the cone of your flashlight and a half-dead building AI narrating every mistake. climb to the exit before the dark, or the water, gets you.

• a flashlight you actually rely on — the battery drains as you dawdle
• 19 hand-built floors + a never-ending, procedurally-generated endless mode
• crushers, wrecking balls, steam, strobes, a fake exit and a lamp-thief monkey
• 8 character skins · zero media files — every sound is synthesised live