Four verbs. One rhythm. Endless nuance.
Run
Momentum is the only shelter. The silhouette leans into speed, leaves dust at every turn, and never stops feeling alive.
Jump
Press on the pulse and the world lifts you higher. Coyote time and input buffering keep it honest and forgiving.
Dash
A hush of air. Perfectly timed dashes stretch further, refresh instantly, and cut through fragile geometry.
Slide
Drop low under drifting stone. Chained out of a run, it preserves every drop of speed.
Everything belongs to the music
Nothing in a collapse is decoration. Gates, hazards, platforms and fragments all move to the same clock you do.
Gates keep tempo
Stone doorways veiled in light, open only on their beats within the measure. Read the rhythm, pass in time.
Geometry sleeps and arms
Unstable crystal is lethal only on its beat. A quiet amber warning precedes every strike — the world never cheats.
Platforms breathe
Some stone exists only on the off-beat. Trust the music, not your eyes.
Fragments mark the flow
Every collected fragment raises your score and pulls the run closer to flawless. Leave nothing behind.
Accuracy over speed. Grace over greed.
Perfect, Great, Good, Miss — every action is judged against the beat. Accuracy shapes your rank; deaths and misses close the door to S+. The gate does not negotiate.