Games

A browser RPG about climbing the corporate ladder at an EPC — engineering, procurement, construction — company, built with Phaser 3 and no build step at all. You play Karsh, freshly promoted to Engineering Manager and working toward Executive: walking the office, fighting in conference rooms and huddle spaces, running site visits across five industries, and negotiating change orders with clients. It draws at a fixed 640×480 and scales up to fill the window at 4:3, so it fills a phone screen rather than sitting in a small box.

The office runs three floors, each with its own palette — GFS for Engineering, CDB for Construction, and the executive floor, where nobody will speak to you until you've made Director and the fights are deliberately far tougher than anything below. Your cubicle is home base and the single hub for every mode: Office, Site Visit, Visitor Day, or PTO. Battles are turn-based and never random — every conference room and utility room holds one battle object you walk up to and engage, against corporate-satire enemies like Scope Creep, Reply-All Storm, and Deadline Wraith. Levelling advances your actual job title up the ladder from Engineering Manager to VP, while Executive has to be earned upstairs: a scripted Performance Review boss fight, then all four executive-floor bosses — the COO, the CFO, General Counsel, and the Board.

Progress deliberately takes both halves of the job. A Bonus Potential reputation score runs alongside XP, and neither a maxed bar nor an XP overflow actually applies until a change order is approved on a site visit — six sites, from a refinery turnaround to a bridge replacement and a water treatment upgrade, each with Safety, Schedule, and Quality checkpoints and a client negotiation at the end. Underneath, there are no image assets at all: every sprite and background is generated procedurally at boot through Phaser's Graphics API, and each character's skin tone, hair, and wardrobe are derived deterministically from a hash of its texture key, so the cast reads as individuals while the game still runs from a plain file:// page.

A reading adventure for a four-to-five-year-old that is an adventure game first: the child explores a forest, meets characters, finds secrets, and collects treasure, and reading is the magic that makes all of it work. Every word in the world lives in the Great Book of Everything, and one night the words flew out and scattered across the kingdom as little glowing lights — so bridges forgot how to be bridges and doors forgot how to open. The player is a Word Keeper: reading a word calls it home, and the world mends itself a piece at a time.

There is no villain and nothing frightening in it. Pip, a very small fox who is very sure he is very brave, comes along as a companion; Luma the owl keeps the Book; and Grumblewink, who took the letters because nobody ever read him a story, ends up a friend. Chapter 1, the Letter Forest, is fully playable — a thirteen-scene journey that catches letter fireflies, sorts Bramble's mushrooms, follows a butterfly to a secret glade, crosses the Sound River with Poppy, learns spell-building from Luma, and then talks Grumblewink through a five-lock finale, at roughly twenty-three reading interactions across ten to fifteen minutes. Progress shows as Reading Power with ranks from Letter Explorer up to Word Keeper, never a score or a grade, and difficulty adapts per skill invisibly: three clean answers raise the ceiling, two misses quietly lower it.

The design is careful about failure. A wrong answer gets no buzzer, no red X, and no failure screen — just a friendly "Almost!" while the option fades out of the way; the three-step hint ladder gives a picture clue, then the sound, then the answer itself, and hints still earn full Reading Power, so asking for help is never penalised and two misses auto-reveal so she can never be stuck. It autosaves after every single answer, and nothing leaves the browser: no accounts, no network calls, no analytics, no adverts. A Parent Zone behind a two-and-a-half-second hold and a multiplication question reports per-skill accuracy, letters and words mastered, and hints used, none of it ever visible to the child.

A game for four-to-ten-year-olds who want to be a doctor or a vet: people or pets, everyone needs a hero. It opens on a character creator — skin, hair, glasses, scrubs, lab coat, shoes, accessories and a “surprise me” die — then asks which career to start in. Both stay open and swapping never costs progress. One choice sets the difficulty of the whole game: Little Helper for roughly four-to-six, where the right tool sparkles and a question only offers two answers, or Medical Explorer for roughly seven-to-ten, with more tools, more answers and the real names for things.

Twenty levels ship — ten Doctor, ten Vet — and each is a patient rather than a stage: they arrive, the child talks to them, picks tools, works out what is wrong and treats it. Helping a patient grows the building. The hospital is an illustrated cutaway whose locked rooms are visible from the start with their unlock conditions written on them — X-Ray Room, Laboratory, Animal Recovery, Emergency Room, and Surgery and the Helipad for finishing a whole track — and each arrives with a construction animation. Alongside it sit a Doctor Bag of twenty-four collectable tools and a Supply Room that spends coins on decor, toys, outfits and one buildable new wing. Hero Stars reward solving, Kindness Stars reward how the patient was treated on the way.

It is careful about being wrong. No buzzer, no red cross, no failure screen — just “Hmm… let’s try another tool!”, and after two tries it quietly shows the answer. Nothing frightening: no blood, no needles, no emergencies, and the title screen says it is make-believe and not medical advice. Every target is at least 56 px and every drag also works as two taps, so it is built for a phone first; sound is off by default and mutable from every screen. There are no dependencies and no binary assets — every character, room and X-ray is inline SVG and every sound is synthesised — progress saves to localStorage, and nothing ever leaves the browser.

A trivia platform whose questions are built from the live internet rather than shipped inside the app. Questions on current events, science, and world geography are generated server-side from cited sources, validated, cached, and served through a serverless API, with scores, friends, leaderboards, and challenges all authoritative on the server. New trivia appears on its own schedule — nobody has to ship a new build for the game to have something new to ask.

Gathering facts and writing questions are kept as separate jobs. Providers fetch real source material — wire services and public broadcasters for news, research-institution feeds for science, REST Countries and Wikidata for geography — and store the title, URL, publisher, and publication date before any of it reaches a model, which is then asked to write questions from that material and nothing else; it is never asked what is true. Geography doesn't trust a model at all: both answers and distractors come out of structured datasets through deterministic templates. Candidates are rejected rather than repaired, against a checklist — four distinct options, no speculative or opinion framing, no relative dates that stop being true once cached, a source URL that was actually supplied, no duplicate fingerprint.

The browser never sees the answer key. A question arrives as text and four options; only once the player answers does the server check it, compute the points, record the result, and reveal the correct answer with its explanation and source. Points scale with difficulty and carry a speed bonus that decays to the twenty-second limit, plus streak multipliers — arranged so rapid guessing is never worth it. Around that sit one-field accounts, friends and leaderboards, head-to-head challenges that freeze both the question ids and the answer order, and a global daily challenge seeded deterministically from the UTC date.