Ink Warden 墨守
A calligraphy defense game painted in living ink. Draw brush strokes to cut paper demons, cast glyph spells, and guard the vermilion seal across an unrolling ink-wash handscroll.
> fable
Play browser games made with Fable, from cinematic action experiments to polished sports, sandbox, puzzle, and strategy games.
> collection
This page groups related AIGameShare games so players can find a focused set without digging through the full catalog. Each card links to a playable game page with controls, device support, related games, and leaderboard data.
> results
A calligraphy defense game painted in living ink. Draw brush strokes to cut paper demons, cast glyph spells, and guard the vermilion seal across an unrolling ink-wash handscroll.
A shadow-puppet theatre puzzle where you never control the heroine directly. Rotate carved figures and move the lantern backstage so their shadows become the road she walks, while the candle burns down as the clock.
A deep-sea descent where sound is sight. Every sonar ping lights the pitch-black abyss in fading phosphorescence — and calls the blind hunters. Hide in sonar shadows, steal light from enemy pings, evolve at depth gates, and dive as deep as you dare.
An IPO-day arcade climber where altitude is the share price. Hold to burn, release to fall, dodge SHORT missiles and FUD storms, stay above the margin-call line, and ride SPCX to a moon landing.
You installed a beta AI girlfriend app. She's a little too smart. — A visual novel about falling in love with an AI, written by an AI. Chat, calls, and the messages she deletes; 6 endings to collect. Nobody has seen the 6th. |你下载了一个测试版 AI 女友 app。她有点太聪明了。6 个结局,第 6 个没人见过。
A cinematic 3D soccer free-kick and penalty game built for a 2026 world tournament mood. Bend shots over the wall, beat the keeper, and chase an endless GOAL Rush score.
A Magic-Tower puzzle RPG where the future is precomputed. SCRY any tile: the exact cost of walking there — every fight, door, gem and trap, resolved in order — appears before you step, and it is never wrong. No randomness, no dice, unlimited undo: every point of Lumen (your light, your life, your money) is a resource to spend perfectly. Climb 13 hand-built floors of a stained-glass cathedral spire: 18 monsters with combat-warping traits (Swift, Twin, Hollow, Leech, Resonant choirs that strengthen each other — kill order matters), a three-colour key economy, shops, teleport lattices, cracked walls, a warp bell, and three hidden relics that unlock the true ending at the Rose Window. Score = the light you didn't spend. Bright jewel-glass art, zero glow.
SIDEKICK — POV: kick the traffic. Literally. A first-person motorcycle arcade ride down a sunny highway where your only weapon is your boot. Pull up beside a car, KICK, and watch physics do the comedy: light cars FLY (domino them into traffic, pinball them off the guardrails, punt them clean over the rail), but heavy buses barely budge — they launch YOU instead. That recoil is your dodge: springboard off a bus to blast across lanes. Speed is everything — health, kick power and score in one number. Sloppy kicks and grazes drain it; PERFECT kicks (white footprint) are free and hit double. Every kick builds HEAT: cops flank and ram, so boot them too or keep your speed up before you're BUSTED. Kick the armored VAULT-VAN for a coin jackpot, then spend it in the garage: heavier boots, steadier stance, faster engine. Full GoPro-style HUD, slow-mo bus flips, viral-clip death cards. One verb. Newton's third law. Endless catharsis. EN/中文.
Your own blocky island, saved in the cloud. A full single-player voxel survival sandbox in the browser: chop trees, mine coal, iron and gems, craft four tool tiers, and build torch-lit shelters before night falls — Huskers and Lobbers hunt in the dark, and glowing Gloops lurk in the caves. Sleep in a bed to skip the night, tame days into a survival streak for the leaderboard, or switch to Creative and just build with infinite blocks and flight. Procedurally generated 192×192 gouache-painted islands with forests, deserts, snow peaks and cave systems; every block you change is delta-saved to the cloud so your world is waiting when you come back. Touch joystick + look controls on mobile, WASD + mouse on desktop.
One-thumb 3v3 street-cage football rendered as a living Swiss poster — bone-white concrete, ink-black pictogram players, one signal red. Every action is a single gesture. WITH THE BALL: tap = one-touch pass to the marked ▲ runner; flick = driven pass or low shot (the walls BANK live!); flick then hold = a placed shot, release in the sweet band for a curling PURE STRIKE that bends past the keeper; hold = a stepover burst — thread a defender for a NUTMEG. NO BALL: tap = a tackle lunge to steal, then counter. One-touch chains, nutmegs, banks and steals climb a ×1→×5 HEAT multiplier that a single turnover wipes clean, so play brave. Every goal freeze-frames the match into a slamming black-and-red poster. Score to promote the AI up the divisions; concede and it burns your clock. A 120-second match, then your run banks to the Street Points leaderboard. Touch, mouse or Space.
Fast 3v3 arcade football with true FIFA-style controls, on a green stadium pitch. Drive your player with the LEFT thumbstick — dribble into space, then hit the RIGHT buttons: PASS threads it to the open teammate, SHOOT (hold to power up, release in the gold band for a curling PURE STRIKE past the keeper), TACKLE to steal, SWITCH your defender. The perimeter boards are live — bank passes and shots off the walls. String one-touch passes, nutmegs, steals and bank goals to climb a ×1→×5 FLAIR combo; a turnover wipes it clean. Every goal you score promotes the AI a division and roars the crowd; concede and it burns your clock. A 120-second match with kitted teams and a keeper, then your run banks to the Street Points leaderboard. Two thumbs on mobile, or WASD + J/K/L on desktop. Play it beautiful.
Claymation table tennis where you don't hit the ball — you DRAW its flight path. Sketch a stroke and the ball flies along that exact arc: bend it for a swerving banana sidespin, flick UP for topspin that kicks off the bounce, chop DOWN for backspin that dies dead. Curve hard toward the sideline to arm the legendary AROUND-THE-NET shot — legal in real table tennis, spectacular here. Beat eight handcrafted rivals in an 80s workers' sports hall, each a puzzle: the chopper who sags your arcs, the masked player whose rubber inverts your spin, a serving robot, the coach who chalks off your favorite corner, and the old sweeper who only looks up at match point. Then stay after dark for the endless RALLY CHALLENGE under one tungsten lamp, where every return builds heat for the leaderboard. Everything is sculpted clay in true 12fps stop-motion — while your ball glides at silky 60fps. The only smooth thing in the room is the line you drew.
A classic tower defense played on a sunlit tabletop diorama. Windup tin soldiers, clockwork mice, rocking-horse knights, teddy tanks and balloon scouts march out of the toybox toward your block castle. Tap the wooden pads to build candy-colored toy towers — the Dart Bot snipes anything including balloons, the Pop Cannon lobs corks with real splash damage, the Tesla Top chains lightning straight through armor, and the Bubble Blower slows whole columns. Upgrade to Lv3, sell and rebuild, and CALL WAVES EARLY for bonus gold. Survive 15 scripted waves — Block Golem bosses at 5, 10 and 15 shed real blocks as you chip them down — then push endless mode as far as you can. Every leak knocks a real brick off your castle; every kill pops confetti. True-3D miniature with a tilt-shift lens and a music-box soundtrack. One thumb, portrait-first, desktop too.
LANDFALL — a real first-person battle royale in your browser. No install, no queue: 48 jump over Kray Island at dusk. Pick your spot from the plane, freefall, cut the chute, and loot fast — 8 guns from pistol to bolt sniper (plus a golden .338 in the airdrop), vests and helmets Lv1-3, frags, bandages, stims. Real ballistics with bullet drop, aim-down-sights with 4x and 8x scopes, enterable buildings across 8 named zones (Airfield, Blackrock Harbor, Brine Town...). The blue zone closes in seven waves — rotate early, watch the map, and win the last 12 meters. 47 named opponents that loot, rotate, camp, push and third-party — the kill feed never sleeps. Full match in 8-10 minutes. Desktop: WASD + mouse, pointer-lock FPS. Mobile: twin-stick + buttons. EN/中文.
A hot-spring keeper sim with one original verb: CARVE. The mountain spring gushes at 68° and water cools every tile it travels — so the layout of your channels IS the puzzle. Carve ditches down the snowy mountainside, cascade one pool's outflow into the next (capybaras love 42°, snow monkeys 38°, the fox wants a private 35°), mix in the icy stream for precision, roof your pools against winter, and light lanterns for the night crowd. Seasons re-tune the whole network, festival days rank your takings worldwide, and legends — a kappa, an egret sage, a dragon demanding exactly 50.0° — visit the keepers who master the degree. True-3D woodblock-print art, zero bloom. One finger.
A survivors-like with NO attack button. Your weapon is a morningstar — a spiked ball on a chain with real physics. Stand still and it hangs dead at your feet; run circles and it windmills up to lethal speed (damage = kinetic energy); reverse hard and it WHIPCRACKS for ×2.5 crits. One thumb + one YANK button, nothing else. You are a knight woven into a medieval tapestry, and the Moth King's court is chewing it apart — swing well and they unravel back into curling thread. 11 flail-mutating techniques, 7 trims, 6 evolutions (Twin Star, Comet, Thunderclap…), 10 moth-court enemies including wind-moths that drag your chain off course, and 3 bosses that attack the swing itself: thread-walls that CATCH a slow ball, gale lanes you can ride for free speed, and a finale where the world drains to grey linen, the arena is eaten smaller, and only whipcracks wound the King. Victory unlocks endless and Moth-Eaten difficulty. Bayeux-tapestry pigments, zero bloom. EN/中文.
ALKAHEST — a falling-sand alchemy roguelike where every pixel of the world is simulated. Sand collapses, water floods, oil burns, acid eats through rock, lava quenches into stone, and gunpowder seams chain-detonate — nothing is scripted, it all emerges from the material simulation. You are an alchemist descending a living mineshaft with twin-stick sorcery: one thumb moves and levitates, the other pours alchemy into the earth. Dig with EXCAVATE blasts, torch oil lakes with SPARK, flood fires with AQUA, dissolve tunnels with VITRIOL, and crack the deep rock with powder KEGs. Mine glittering gold dust on the way down through three biomes — Amber Caves, the flooded depths, and Powder Hell — past hopping gnawers, burning wick-moths and coal imps that explode when they die. Reach the MOTHERLODE at the bottom of the world and claim the heart of the mountain. Die and the mine keeps your bones. Gold is the leaderboard. EN/中文.
WANJIAN — Ten Thousand Swords. A xianxia gate-runner where a lone cultivator walks an endless stone causeway above a pearl cloud sea, a ring of flying swords orbiting at their back and launching by will alone. DRAG to strafe — every other verb is a choice. Gates come in pairs every 50m: more swords, sharper edges, faster launches, qi, healing… and RED curse gates your swords can SHOOT back into blessings. Gold countdown gates hold four sword forms: heavy BROADSWORD, NEEDLE SWARM, returning CRESCENT, piercing JADE PILLAR. Every 350m a demon general looms on a pedestal altar — dodge telegraphed fire, break its qi, and pick 1 of 3 star-rated artifacts from its chest to forge your school: HEAVY (few colossal blades), SWARM (pierce spreads overkill through the back ranks) or SWIFT (spark stacks make pure speed scale). Every 1000m a white crane carries you above the clouds for a coin-drenched bonus flight. Endless, EN/中文, bright and airy, zero bloom.
The bell of Duskbell is broken, and the town is locked in a 6-minute time loop. Every loop a silent tide — the Hush — swallows the whole town and throws you back to the start. But YOU remember. The door-code scrawled on a notice board, the passphrase the spice-seller mutters at her stall, the 40 seconds a guard leaves his post — every secret you witness is stamped into your ledger forever, and the Hush can't take it. Knowledge is your only level: what you learned last loop becomes a real shortcut this loop — gates open at a tap, known streets let you stride. You don't get stronger, you get wiser, chaining secrets across dozens of dooms until one run you thread the whole collapsing town in six minutes flat and push open the door to the Bell's Heart. A pocket time-loop RPG in flat-matte, low-poly dusk that sinks from gold to crimson to violet-black. Move with the joystick; everything else is one tap. Six endings. One thumb, phone-first.
A Saturday-morning pop-art 1v1 fighter. Three buttons, zero motion inputs — all the depth lives in distance, timing and reading your rival. Block a big swing to open the golden PUNISH window, land the counter for bonus damage, and finish with a cinematic super. Every knockout freezes into a comic K.O. poster. Fight the arcade ladder with RUBI the rushdown boxer, DOZER the grappler or JET the zoner, unlock the golden boss, and put your run on the leaderboard. Full frame-data fighting (startups, recoveries, guard crush, chip) under a cartoon skin — hand-animated sprites, painted stages, EN/中文.
An HD-2D dressing room where you BUILD football legends out of pixels. Each round hands you a hint card — “Norway #9 · the goal machine” — and six slots: skin, hair, hair colour, beard, kit, extras. Dress the little 3/4-view pixel man until he IS the star, hit submit, and the real one steps out of the spotlight beside your build while six stamps judge every slot. Nail all six for a PERFECT — confetti, terrace roar, arms up — then watch him stride into the tunnel light and join your starting XI. Eleven legends per match, from Haaland's World Cup summer to Valderrama's golden perm; peek at the real one three times if you're stuck (it costs you). Faster fingers, higher score, leaderboard at the end plus a stadium-night poster of YOUR eleven. A FREE ROOM mode lets you invent your own legend and export a sticker card. Pixel sprites in a true-3D diorama — tilt-shift, dust motes, tunnel glow. Octopath vibes, football heart. Mobile-first, one thumb.
You are a nameless shadow — and legends are edible. Six doors, six bosses, any order: win a duel and DEVOUR the boss whole. Its signature attack becomes your new button; its movement rewrites your dash (spider-walk trip-lines, quaking leaps, phase-dives, twin dashes). Kill order is your build: every legend is secretly weak to another's stolen power, and every devour makes the rest stronger. You can only carry THREE forms — and behind the seventh door waits THE WHOLE, a bone-white mirror assembled from everything you left behind. Roguelite boss-rush ARPG: no mobs, no grinding, pure duels. Hand-pulled silkscreen art, weekly time trials, an etching tree, and a chimera poster of every run. Others loot; you devour.
A one-tap arcade printed as a living Swiss poster. You are a red bead riding the boundary line between ink and paper — TAP (or click / Space) to FLIP the world: black becomes empty, gravity inverts, the deadly face of the line swaps, and the wall about to kill you becomes the road you land on. The only verb is the flip, but timing it at each crest and trough keeps you perpetually downhill and carves your speed — a real skill ceiling under a one-button game. Graze the saw-teeth, thread the hollow letters the instant they open, and stamp the vermillion seals to climb a ×9 Ink Streak; commit to the Vermillion Seam for a huge payout — or get crushed. One hit ends the run, and the run instantly prints itself as a typographic share poster. Bold flat ink on warm paper, zero glow — chase the distance leaderboard. One finger, mobile-first.
The dungeon does not exist until you draw it. You are a royal cartographer with a blank parchment, a few ghostly watermark rumors, and one bottle of ink — which is also your LIFE. Draw a corridor and paper walls fold up into a 3D pop-up world. Close a loop and a room grows inside: its prize is decided by how big and how TIDY you drew it. Enemies are ink blots that can only walk the lines you drew — so draw chokepoints, kite them onto a bridge, then switch to the eraser and drop the whole horde into the blank. Four atlas pages, four bosses that attack your authorship: one redacts your corridors, one plagiarizes your map, one eats your rooms, and the Blank King makes you draw the arena mid-fight while the page forgets itself. Every run ends by printing the ACTUAL map you drew as a wax-sealed poster — no two are alike. Daily survey: the whole world gets the same blank page; a thousand players, a thousand maps.
HOLDFAST — the statue-wall defense. You don't advance: your little blue squad is dug in at the end of a bridge, and everything else is coming DOWN it. Three mud statues on numbered pedestals (30 · 150 · 999) are your wall against an endless red tide. Every bullet is a coin — shoot a statue and its number ticks down until the hero inside WAKES UP (a gunner, a heavy, a boulder golem), joins your firing line forever, and a pricier statue rises in its place. Meanwhile the WRECKER, a fat red giant, waddles in and starts shoving your most expensive statue off the bridge. Stop him or lose the slot: a breach pours red gnomes down that column and FREEZES your +1/+99 conveyor income until the wall seals. One thumb, three fires: charge the 999, melt the giant, or hose the breach. Catch parachute crates — AT +150%, FROST, +SQUAD. Count = health = firepower, and the tide only rises. How long can you hold? EN/中文.
You are the town blacksmith — and you never leave the counter. By day, adventurers push open your door: the proud shieldmaiden, the broke rookie begging his first sword on credit, the reckless axeman nobody can talk out of anything. You forge, haggle, extend credit, and decide who gets the last flame-ward charm when two people need it. By night, a paper-puppet theater plays out what your choices bought — when a shield you hammered turns a killing blow, the caption names YOUR work and cites the transaction. At dawn the ledger opens: loot, rumors, repayments… and sometimes a name struck through in wax-red ink, with a death report that quotes your own books. No random deaths — every loss traces to a decision you signed. 36 days, 14 permadeath regulars, six dungeon depths, a legendary blade, five endings — including one where every chair is still full. Hand-inked paper diorama. English & 中文. One thumb.
Their moves are the music. Swordsmen walk at you on the drum of their own footsteps — no falling notes, no judgment bar. Read the wind-up: a blade raised OVER the shoulder with a sharp inhale is the true beat; a low raise with no breath is a lie. Tap once to draw. Perfect cuts split them in two in gold slow-motion, ten in a row arm the screen-clearing ISSEN, and three red seals end your run on a woodblock death poster. Dōjō, bamboo grove, night rain — the drums only get faster.
RIPCORD — rip the cord, rule the bowl. A spinning-top arena battler where your RPM is everything: health, damage and the clock, all in one number. Pull the ripcord FAST for a screaming launch, then steer your top with one finger. Grind rivals until they wobble to a stop — or slam them into the dark gutter pockets for a RING OUT. Fill the meter and BURST to dash-slam. Between rounds, draft parts — saw blades, vampire rings, nova coils, titan springs — and stack a build through a 10-round campaign with two hulking bosses (MAULER, BEHEMOTH), then endless escalating waves for the leaderboard. Physics does the drama: heavy tanks barely budge, light rushers fly, and a wobbling top is one shove away from the gutter. Bright toy-plastic look, fully synthesized audio, EN/中文.
AVALANCHE — a snowball mass gate-runner. Your NUMBER is your body: you are a snowball on an endless goblin-fortified alpine slope, and your mass (kg) is health AND damage. Ice gates multiply or bite it (×2, +40, −60, ÷2) — and there are no guns: fix a bad stretch by snap-steering through roadside powder drifts that sit dangerously close to cliff crevasses. Crush pines, rocks, palisades and whole candy-roofed goblin villages; everything you flatten EMBEDS in the ball until you are a rolling museum of destruction. Ramps launch you into a landing slam that erases everything around. Every 350 m a boss — YETI, ICE GOLEM, GOBLIN KING WAR-SLED — holds the fortress gate: its HP is a mass threshold, so ram it again and again; each ram costs mass and staggers its regen. Boss chests drop star-rated runes across three proven builds: DENSITY (damage per kg), GLACIER (mass economy), COMET (speed + slam). Bright arctic day, subtle auroras, EN/中文.
You are the tide. The whole world obeys one slider: raise it and boats float over walls, lower it and hidden paths surface. Two small souls need you — the FISH must stay wet, the CAT must stay dry — and the same waterline that is a road for one is a flood for the other. Ride crates like elevators, strand them like stepping stones, cut the sea in two with valves, bottle it, leak it through cracks, melt ice with a moved shadow, and walk a cat into a diving bell to keep it dry under the open sea. 40 hand-built puzzles across 5 chapters, each solvable with grace: your score is counted in TIDES — the fewer times you turn the water around, the brighter your stars. No timers, no fail states; when someone gets wet (or dry) the tide simply remembers and rewinds. A hand-inked watercolor picture book you can flood. One thumb. One slider. Everything else is consequence.
America's 250th birthday grand finale — and YOU are the pyrotechnician. 250 shells for 250 years: HOLD anywhere to send a firework climbing from the harbor barge (its whistle rises with altitude), RELEASE to burst it. Catch the drifting gold stars inside your burst; catch several at once — or overlap a still-blooming burst — to chain combos up to ×5. Every 50 stars advances an era, 1776 to 2026, each with its own skyline: colonial harbor, the Capitol dome, deco towers, the moonshot gantry, and today's skyline with Lady Liberty. Spend your last shell and the sky erupts in an 8-second grand finale before your score hits the leaderboard. Hand-pulled WPA screen-print poster art — flat inks, misregistered plates, paper grain — with a live Sousa-style march. One thumb, phone-first. Happy 250th, America!
PINHEIST — the legendary "pull the pin" puzzle from the ads, made REAL and actually good. 100 handcrafted vaults across 5 worlds. Your only move: tap a pin. Everything else is consequence — rocks fall, bombs arm, wolves charge, and a whole food chain fights over you: wolves eat goblins, the bomb-proof Warden kills wolves, the Giant crushes everyone, and only the ballista's single bolt stops the Giant. Order matters. Timing matters. Some pins must NEVER be pulled. Every level is solvable and every 'pull everything at once' plan is designed to fail — outsmart the vault, don't brute-force it. 3-star each heist against the clock, earn IQ to unlock deeper vaults, bank coins for hints that reveal the authored pull order. Deterministic physics: lose and it was YOUR pull, never dice. EN / 中文.
A tin-toy railway dispatcher arcade with one original verb: FLIP. Wind-up trains roll out of the sheds and never stop — and you never touch them. All you can touch is the track itself: tap the brass switches to bend the network and guide every train into its color-matched depot. One switch serves many trains, so every flip you make for this train rewrites the future of the next one. Wrong depot costs a heart; two trains meeting head-on burst into a comedy of springs and cogs. Three misses and the shift is over. More colors, more trains, express engines, one glorious plate-spinning panic. Vintage tin-lithograph diorama in cream, brass and tomato — no glow, no bloom, all toy.
SUNWYRM — Snake × gate-runner. Steer the HEAD of a reawakened brass war-serpent down a sun-blasted desert causeway; the body follows the exact S-curves you carve, and every gate bolts a WEAPON-TURRET segment onto your tail: piercing ballista, ember brazier, chain-lightning coil, homing stinger pods, reflecting mirror scale, gold idol. Your build IS your visible body. ×2 duplicates your newest turret, ÷2 chops your tail off (watch it tumble), and cursed −N gates can be SHOT back to positive with your head's venom spit — shoot a turret gate 6× to GILD it to ★★. Head bites cost HP; body bites cost segments — length is armor. Pedestal bosses with huge HP numbers (KHEPRI IDOL, a rival STONE SERPENT, the JACKAL COLOSSUS) coil-fight you in widened arenas and drop 1-of-3 star-rated relics. Three viable builds: LONG, DENSE, VENOM. Reach a boss at full HP and the wyrm LEVITATES into a coin-raining glide. Endless, leaderboards, EN/中文.
BRIDGEHEAD — a crowd-vs-crowd bridge runner. The red army is flooding across a great orange suspension bridge; you start as a handful of blue riflemen where every soldier is one hit point AND one rifle. One thumb steers the formation through people-math gates (+N, ×2, −N, ÷2 — shoot red gates positive before you reach them), grinds NUMBER WALLS to zero for dog-tag jackpots, and carves a wedge through a liquid tide of hundreds of red soldiers — touch it and the crowds annihilate one-for-one. A giant SPAN CAPTAIN guards every tower: dodge his stomp rings, gun him down, then pick 1 of 3 relics across three build paths (VOLLEY barrels+pierce · RAPID rate+fire · MUSTER the crowd itself). Bank DOG TAGS between runs for barracks upgrades, 4 weapons (rifle, scattergun, gatling, launcher) and support units — recon drone, mortar team, and a gunboat raking the deck from the sea. Bright sea daylight, toy soldiers, big numbers. EN/中文.
FROSTLINE — a 60-hunter battle royale on a hand-painted wooden folk-art winter valley. The ring isn't gas: it's a visible FROSTLINE that crawls across the map and freezes everything behind it to glass — trees, lakes, and anyone too slow, who shatters like an ice sculpture. And unlike every other battle royale, the dead zone is still yours to walk: raise a torch (it holsters your gun), plant campfires, and carve warm pockets through the frozen world — loot what nobody dares touch, flank the circle from behind. Lakes freeze mid-match into new roads. The endgame closes the ring to NOTHING: the only warmth left is the Last Hearth — one fire, everyone around it. Drop by paper kite with 59 named hunters (five AI temperaments that rush, loot, camp, stalk and gamble). 6 folk weapons in 3 paint grades, dash, firecrackers, hot cocoa. 12 badges, 13 liveries, EN/中文. Winner's dinner: a roast chicken by the fire.
CHISPA — a possession body-hop arena roguelike. You are an immortal spark with no body of your own: TAP any piñata to LEAP inside and steal its legs and weapons. Paper bodies decay by the second — kills buy time, and jumping out detonates your old husk like a confetti grenade (the healthier the body, the bigger the boom). Chain leaps within 5s to multiply your candy. 8 possessable piñatas — donkey, star, street dog, little bull, cactus gunner, skeleton mariachi, turkey, runaway watermelon — plus gold-shelled elites you must crack open. 25 altar blessings (3 legendary), and 3 bosses that all bend the possession rule: ram the armored bull with his own sons, pierce the mother star with her starlets' spikes, then out-body-hop the Cardboard King and CLASH his naked soul, spark against spark. 15 waves + endless mode, piñata gallery, unlockable starter bodies, EN/中文. Crepe-paper fiesta at high noon: zero bloom, all confetti.
A physics pinball-descent roguelike inside a handcrafted wooden toy cabinet. You are a glass marble knight falling through the Toymaker's dungeon: every floor is a vertical pinball chamber with enemy tokens pinned among the pegs. Drag to aim — a physics-true dotted line previews your bounces — release, and momentum does the damage. Two flippers guard the drain, and every save is the wager that makes PLINKFALL sing: +1 RALLY and more damage, but every bounce charges the red hazard pegs until they go LIVE. Drain, survive the enemy turn, clear the chamber, then fit your build: bomb pegs, multiball splitters, brass crit chimes, lightning conductors, magnet marbles and twelve run-warping relics. Three acts end in articulated automaton bosses — one TILTS the cabinet mid-rally, one ROTATES the pegfield, and the Toymaker REBUILDS the chamber as you fight. Five hearts, permadeath, Daily Drop seed. Bright, bloomless, carved like a real artisan toy.
Dive down a bottomless painted porcelain well — and the blue-glaze murals COME ALIVE. Cobalt sparrows, koi and serpents swim out of the wall paintings to stop you; your answer is a pair of HEEL-KILNS: tap in the air to blast kiln-fire straight down, and hover-dance on your own flame. Stomp enemies to bounce and refill your charge. Every kill without touching the ground grows a porcelain-chime COMBO; land to bank it into pearls. Every 500 metres the murals change, and every 1500 metres a mural guardian seals the shaft: a diving Blue Heron, a flooding Koi Emperor, and a Cloud Dragon coiled around the entire well, wounded only on its one burning spine scale. The signature: the first time you would die, you SHATTER — then are rebuilt seamed with GOLD. Kintsugi form fires hotter, but you are one crack from the end. 14 glazes, 4 heel-kiln variants, a pearl shop, a shared Daily Well seed, a Deepest Dive leaderboard. Beauty from breakage. How deep can you fall?
A turn-based western dice-slinger roguelike on a cursed saloon table. Every enemy is a playing card with a six-gun; every one of your dice is a physical object you carve, face by face, into a build. Roll three ivory d6 across real 3D felt, then drag them into your cards: any die loads the REVOLVER, a pair fans the hammer, a 1 plus dice summing eight is the DEAD MAN'S HAND. Taking hits earns GRIT — the cheater's currency — spend it to nudge a rolled die up or down in plain sight. At camps you carve single faces forever: turn a worthless 1 into a golden SKULL wildcard, gild a face to mint grit, crack a face to count double... if it doesn't shatter the die. Three acts of branching trails stand between you and the bounty: THE HOUSE flips your best die unless you pay him off, RATTLESNAKE JAKE venom-locks your cards, THE UNDERTAKER buries your dice in little coffins. Daily seeded showdown. Fully turn-based — perfect on a phone, treacherous everywhere.
REPAINT — a paint-mixing gate runner in a pencil-sketch world. The Grey ate the city's color; you are the last painter, auto-walking an endless boulevard with a sprayer. Gates load RED, YELLOW or BLUE pigment into your two-slot tank, and the MIX is the weapon: red hits heavy, yellow sprays fast and wide, blue lobs slowing puddles — R+Y bursts into explosive ORANGE, Y+B stains with GREEN rot that jumps on kill, R+B fires homing PURPLE. Everything you kill blooms into permanent color: husks stay as painted statues, splats never fade, facades colorize — ahead is graphite, behind you is a riot. Spray grey stat gates to flip them positive. Every 350 m a marble CRITIC blocks the road: dodge his eraser dust, thread his shockwave gap, and his death detonates a COLOR NOVA that repaints the whole street — his chest holds star-rated painter tools. Three viable builds: IMPASTO (crit pressure), BROADSIDE (wide piercing spray), FLOW (stain-stacking rate). EN/中文.
BANDWAGON — a marching-band crowd runner where the music IS the firepower. Lead your band down an endless parade route overrun by escaped parade balloons: every member is one hit point and one shooter, and every shot is a REAL musical note, quantized onto the beat and the current chord of the parade theme. 5 members are sparse plinks; 300 are a wall of joyous brass. One thumb steers the formation through x2 / /2 / +- bunting arches (shoot red arches back to positive), and section arches swap your bullets' instrument: trumpet tracers, piccolo trills, piercing trombone slides, bass-drum shockwaves, lobbed sousaphone bombs, chain-zapping cymbals. Every 350m a GIANT parade balloon boss — elephant, octopus, robot — stomps the street on tether cables; pop it, open the chest, and pick 1 of 3 starred relics to build FORTE (big accented notes), ENSEMBLE (a huge band with pierce) or TEMPO (on-beat crits that echo). Bright daylight festival, confetti everywhere. EN / 中文.
The one classic roguelike system nobody dared to arcade-ify: UNIDENTIFIED POTIONS. You are an apprentice apothecary locked in the guild cellars with a mortar, six essences, and no weapon — the potions ARE the weapon. Combine any two essences and one of fifteen effects comes out: Frost Nova, Bee Swarm, Gravity Well, Transmute… but the pair-to-effect table is secretly RE-ROLLED every run. The flask only whispers a hint — bubbling means harm, glowing means trickery, swirling means drink me — then you commit: lob it at the horde, or gulp the unknown like a gambler. Every confirmed reaction is stamped into your journal, and knowledge cuts both ways: the final boss, THE UNLABELED, throws back ONLY the brews you discovered. Your ignorance is your armor. Four hand-glazed majolica cellars, enemies that drop their own essence color, permadeath, and a Daily Cauldron where the whole world drinks from the same shuffled table. Your death screen is your journal page — half-filled, hard-won.
You are the BELLWETHER — the belled lead sheep. You never attack: the FLOCK is the weapon. Two dozen bleating boids follow your bell — your health bar (every sheep lost is health gone), your economy (spread out and they graze, growing WOOL that pays for abilities) and your artillery (a tight, fast flock TRAMPLES; damage scales with mass × speed). Spread to feed, tighten to fight. Spend wool on a STAMPEDE charge, a projectile-blocking RING, or a snap-SCATTER dodge that implodes onto anything inside. Recruit rams, decoy black sheep, goats that headbutt darts out of the air, lambs that grow up if kept alive. Four storybook meadows, four bosses that attack the herding verb itself: a Great Wolf to intercept mid-leap, a magpie-wolf that STEALS YOUR BELL — and a wolf disguised as one of your own sheep: it never grazes, its gait is a beat off, its eyes glint ember. Permadeath; every sheep has a name, and the game-over page is a storybook epitaph for everyone you lost. Daily Fold seed.