Quarter Turn

A ball runs wall to wall across a narrow shaft, and you have one button: tap to reverse it. Touching a wall is a point. Rows fall down the shaft with a gap in them, and the ball has to be in the gap when the row arrives. Then, every fifth bounce, the world takes a quarter turn. Nothing about the physics changes. Gravity still pulls the same way, the tap still does the same thing. But the shaft you were reading as vertical is suddenly on its side, then upside down, then on its other side, and every gap you were lining up is somewhere else on the screen. The game is not the rows. The game is keeping your head while the picture turns. Scoring means crossing, surviving means positioning. Points come from the walls, and the wall is exactly where you cannot afford to be when a row is about to land. A gap pays one point, two or three if you cut it close. The nearer the edge you thread it, the more it is worth, and the less room there was to be wrong. That is the risk you choose. Close threads chain. Each close thread after another pays one more than the last, up to three extra. A thread down the middle ends the chain. Something to protect, if you are brave. Three phases and a storm that keeps coming. Warmup, standard at eight bounces, storm at twenty. Rows come faster, gaps tighten, some gaps slide, some rows have two. Past the storm it keeps escalating. The end card tells you what killed you. Short of the gap or past it, by how much, and what to do next time. Play Endless on a fresh seed every run, or the Daily: one shaft for everybody, the same rows for everyone that day, with its own best. A run is twenty seconds to a couple of minutes, one thumb, any orientation.