ONE GUESS

There is a single secret word in the world right now. You may guess it once. That is the whole game. Commit your guess and it is locked — then you can only watch the world board: every guess anyone on the planet has made, graded green, amber and grey, with how many people made it, merged into one growing picture of what the crowd has proven. A new puzzle starts every three hours. Nobody solves this alone, and that is the point. Guess early and the field is wide open — you probably will not hit it, but you will eliminate hundreds of possible answers for everyone who comes after you, and the game tells you exactly how many. Wait, and the crowd narrows it down for you — but your one guess will have given the world nothing. That decision, taken once every three hours, is the game. It explains itself before you can spend anything. A four-screen primer opens on your first visit — one puzzle for the whole world, exactly one guess at it, what the green, amber and grey tiles mean, and what happens afterwards — and the HOW button brings it back whenever you want it. Once your guess is in, the page turns into a live countdown to the next puzzle with the world board underneath it. You also get to back somebody else's guess. Endorsements are counted on everyone's board, so you can see which answer the community actually believes in — which is often not the most popular one. Two real puzzles, not one and a translation. In English it is a five-letter word. In 中文 it is a 四字成语, matched character by character, with its own idiom pool, its own secret and its own board. Switch worlds any time; you get one guess in each. No prizes, no leaderboard, no stakes. Just a few thousand strangers closing in on the same word together, and a record of what your one guess gave them.