A hand-painted platformer studio that runs in any browser. Your kid builds a level, sends you a link, and watches you fail — gloriously.
Every level your kid publishes becomes a share card. No install, no console, no app store — it plays the instant you open it. Then it dares you.

Drag islands, traps and monsters onto a hand-painted world. Hit publish — that's their first ship.
One URL lands in the family chat. It opens to a share card with their name on it and a death counter ticking up.
You rage-retry. You share your shame. Another parent clicks. The loop runs entirely on one link.
Floating islands, spike traps, mushroom platforms, monsters with attitude. Everything is hand-painted and snaps to a grid. Building a level that's genuinely hard is the whole point — and it's stupidly fun.


Snap behavior blocks onto any monster — loops, triggers, variables, “look at the cat, then fireball.” Your kid thinks they're making a meaner boss. They're writing their first program. You don't have to say the word “code” once.
Painted by hand in 2017, untouched and unbeaten in 2026. Every island, every monster, every sunset rendered like a storybook.

Magic cats, axe-rats, griffins and golden bosses — all duking it out across sky-islands you designed.

Dungeons lit by torchlight

Sunset worlds full of mischief
We didn't bolt safety on. We left the dark patterns out. There's nothing to moderate because there's nothing to exploit.
Strangers can never message your kid. There is no inbox to find.
Nobody is buying your child's attention. Ever.
No microtransactions, no daily spin, no fake urgency. We hid the old shop.
Cat skins come from shipping levels — never from a wallet.
“In 2017 I built a game studio. It died. Eight years later I resurrected it from a dead codebase with AI agents — and relaunched it for my followers' kids, minus the gem shop.”
Open the builder, drop one trap, send the link. It plays in any browser, no install.