A mobile game studio — built for phones, played anywhere
Short arcade games you lose in ninety seconds and start again in two. One thumb, no signal needed.
An arcade cabinet never asked you to care about it. It asked for a coin, gave you three lives and took them back, and the whole exchange was over before your drink went warm. Then it put your initials on a board where everybody could see them. That is the entire design brief we work from.
Most phone games have forgotten it. They open with a cutscene, a login, a tutorial that holds your wrist for four minutes, and a calendar of things you are now late for. We make the other thing. You press start, you are playing. You die, you are playing again. There is no story to catch up on and no streak to betray.
Every game we ship has to survive the same test: it has to be learnable in one round and still beating you in fifty. That means tight rules, one input, and a difficulty curve that comes from your own speed rather than from numbers we quietly turn up. If a round takes longer than a traffic light, it gets cut or it gets faster.
The retro look is not nostalgia for its own sake. Chunky pixels, hard edges and loud colour are what you can read at arm's length, in sunlight, on a moving bus, with half your attention somewhere else. Sprites were a constraint once. On a phone held in one hand, they are a legibility decision.
Our games run in a tunnel, on a plane, in a lift, in the basement where the signal dies. Nothing we make needs to phone home to let you play. Progress is kept on your device; when a connection shows up, your scores go to the board. If it never does, you still played, you still unlocked what you earned, and nobody held the game hostage waiting for a bar of reception.
What you end up with is a small, dense thing: a handful of games that share a feel, a ladder of levels and unlockables that you climb because you got better rather than because you waited, and a leaderboard that is honest about where you stand. Then a game over screen, which in our house is not an ending. It is a dare.
If you want to talk to the studio — early builds, playtests, a partnership, a press question — the form at the bottom of this page is the whole front door.
Pixels, playtests and the moment before the replay button.
Tap, hold, swipe — that is the whole control scheme. Nothing on the display is a virtual joystick covering the bit you need to see.
Games are built to be finished standing up. Start on the platform, lose on the escalator, get one more in before the doors close.
Every mode is playable offline. Scores queue up on the device and go to the leaderboard the next time you are connected.
New modes, palettes and cabinets open because you cleared something. No timers counting down while you are not playing.
Three letters, a score, a rank. Daily and all-time, per game, with the run that beat you sitting one line above.
No login wall, no daily check-in guilt, no cutscene between you and the start button.
Four ways to play the same set of games, depending on how much time you've got.
Pick a game, press start, play until you lose. The default way in.
The arcade rules: three lives, no continues, difficulty that keeps climbing.
Level progression across the whole lineup, with unlockables at each tier.
The flight, the tunnel, the basement. Same games, no connection required.
Modes and unlockables change as the lineup grows; everything listed here plays without a connection.
One line about what you want — a playtest slot, an early build, a partnership, a press question. Detail helps; a sentence is enough.
The form goes to the people who make the games, not to a sales queue. You get a written reply from a person who can actually answer.
Depending on what you asked: a build link, a call, or a straight yes or no. We would rather say no quickly than go quiet on you.
Playtests, early builds, partnerships, press — this form is how you reach the studio.
Someone from the studio will get back to you shortly.
This site uses cookies for analytics and advertising measurement only after you give your consent. Learn More