BONES 骸骨地城

An endless dungeon you walk around on foot, and it remembers its dead. A FLOOR IS A PLACE. Every floor is generated as a real map: rooms of eight different shapes joined by corridors, with doorways, standing water and chasms. You walk it with WASD, the arrows, a thumb pad or a tap on the floor. Your torch reaches seven paces, so most of a floor is dark until you have stood in it. Monsters, graves, boxes, shrines, fires, loose gear and a stair you have to find are all things standing somewhere in particular — and nothing down there is ever unreachable. A NEW PERSON EVERY RUN, AND YOU SEE THEIR FACE. A name, a trade, a stat spread, one quirk that genuinely changes how you have to play, and a body to go with it — head, hair, scars, cloak, lantern, which hand they favour — all rolled from a single seed. One life each. STRANGERS' BONES. When you die you drop a corpse holding everything you carried, and it stays in the dungeon for every other player in the world until somebody loots it. Walk into a grave and it is a real player who really died at that depth, drawn lying where they fell with their own face. Rob them and their kit is yours — but bones read cold, uneasy or warm, and warm bones stand up: a wight wearing that player's actual face, fighting with their real numbers. THE WAKE. A delve ends and the dungeon closes for half a minute to five minutes, scaled to how far down they got. Not a locked screen — you sit with the body, read their epitaph and what they were carrying, and the ledger of other players' graves, while the clock burns down. Your very first delver is exempt. No final boss and no ending: the goal is to go deep and die well. Fights are turn-based and nothing is ever on a timer. Playable as a guest, with no account and no connection. English with a live 中文 toggle, and no images anywhere — every wall, creature, skull and face is drawn from its own numbers, which is why a dead player's wight looks the same on your screen as it did on theirs.