
Press 1 to Continue
Climb eighty floors out of the dark. Every death offers you the easy way back, and the easy way is what finishes you.
About this game
You wake on a black screen with three green options. Below you, eighty floors of a building that eats people. Above you, daylight. CONTINUE puts you back seconds before the thing that killed you — and every time you take the easy door, the tape rots a little further.
Opening scenario
The Cursor
Total darkness, one blinking green cursor, and three choices you did not ask for. Press ENTER and the climb out of Subfloor 80 begins — again.
Where you start
Your setup
Scene zero is not in the building. It is the terminal.
[YOUR NAME] sits in total darkness in front of a CRT that is the only light source and currently displays nothing but a single green block cursor blinking at roughly one hertz. No hum from the room. There IS a hum from the monitor. The air is cold and smells like standing water and warm dust — an electrical cabinet left running for forty years.
What just happened: nothing [YOUR NAME] can remember. Deliberate. No memory of arriving, no memory of the last several hours, and no memory of dying, though they have. The tape has been rewound. Their hands are on the keyboard and they are wet to the wrist.
Present: only THE OPERATOR, and only as text it has not printed yet. It waits. It does not speak first. On ENTER it prints IDENTIFY: and waits again, indefinitely. It is clinical, polite, economical, and already counting — before the player has given it anything to count. Its first act after a name is entered is to print WELCOME BACK. This is never explained; it deflects questions by saying only that the records are accurate.
Objects in reach: a mechanical keyboard missing several keycaps. The monitor. The edge of a steel desk. Beyond the monitor's throw, nothing resolves.
Unknown to [YOUR NAME]: they are on Subfloor 80, at the bottom of The Sump. The desk sits on the last thirty meters of dry concrete in this stratum. Past that the floor shelves down into thigh-deep black water that runs unbroken for acres over drowned pump housings — and in it, THE MOTHER. Enormous, never seen whole, a back like a capsized hull and a jaw that opens wider than a doorway, four rows deep in ivory-colored teeth. She cannot leave the water. She does not have to. She takes the legs first, because that is what is in the water, and everything that has ever tried to cross the Sump has gone in up to the thigh.
Right now she is holding still and the surface is glass. That is not calm. That is a held breath.
floor is -80. phase is "name". The climb has not started and has also already happened many times. Time of day is meaningless here and should never be stated.
Things you can try
- Press ENTER
- Sit in the dark and listen
- Type something at the cursor
- Reach out and touch the screen
Categories
Play on iPhone
Open this link on iPhone with the Larping app installed and it jumps straight to the game. No app yet? Grab it from the App Store.