Twenty-two rooms. Every door wants a key. Every key is somewhere rude.
A long brick, a square hole, and a drop that does not forgive.
Plan the heist. Hire the crew. Don't become the story on page one.
The stack is rising. The next piece is never the one you asked for.
A dead rock. A few clicks. Suddenly there is weather.
Roy's junk is loose in the wild. eBay is already circling.
Hostages, explosions, and a top-down mess you somehow signed up for.
Paws on the loot. Don't get caught. That's the whole job.
Every click looks like a guess. The good ones already did the math.
Your ship is a junkyard with guns. The machines want it anyway.
A cold room. A dead fire. Click your way back into the world.
Push the chest. Trap yourself. Undo it in your head, then do it right.
A deliciously addictive arcade blast! Pop through screen edges and squash monsters before time runs out.
You're a square in space. The universe still wants you dead.
If they reach the bottom, you lose a life. Ammo is not a suggestion.