Hell has stairs. You have one job: keep climbing.
Aim the cannon. Wait your turn. The castle on the hill is personal now.
Paws on the loot. Don't get caught. That's the whole job.
A dead rock. A few clicks. Suddenly there's weather.
Grab the gold. The wizard is faster than your greed.
Twenty-two rooms. Every door wants a key. Every key is hiding.
Swap tiles into an army. Then hope the pattern holds.
Light is the enemy. Dive into the wall before it sees you.
You're tiny. The crate isn't. Throw it anyway.
The floor is fire. Your crush is waiting. One wrong step...
Your ship is a junkyard with guns. The machines want it anyway.
Their bases light up the dark. Yours is the only ship that answers.
Earth's last hope is a kid with a pogo stick. Obviously.
The stack is rising. Your next piece is never the one you wanted.
Roy's junk is loose in the wild. eBay is already circling.