One breath. One touch. One coward to kill. A dragon lost the war and ran. Cornered in the last vault of his own fortress, he sealed the doors and spent his final magic not on a weapon but on a rule: everyone inside gets a single breath of life, and every spell is stripped at the door. So everything down here has exactly 1 HP: the swarms, the generals, the coward himself. And you, Aura, the strongest sorceress in history, walking in with a rusted sword and no magic, because your spells are scattered somewhere below too. No health bar, no second chances. One clean touch, and the breath is spent. Turn his own law against him: descend, and end him inside it. A fair game about an unfair rule 1 HP would be cheap if the game cheated. It never does. Every lethal blow is announced and dodgeable: a step aside, a quick dash, a bottled breath that catches one hit. When you die, you saw it coming. That is the whole promise. Every run, a different hunt Take back your stolen spells. Frost, fire, wards, summons and stranger things, scattered across the floors and stacked into a build that is never the same twice. Weapons wait in the dark, from the rusted sword to bone daggers, a crystal lance, a chakram and a bow with long reach. Melee and ranged, each with its own rhythm. A seeded, endless descent. Share a seed and two players walk one identical run. Change it and no two hunts match. There is no bottom, only down, and him digging below. First the generals, then the coward A fattened guardian bars every third hall, in the order the seed deals them: the Worm beneath the sand, the Bone Colossus, the Hollow Choir and more, each sealing the stairs until it falls. Break his whole guard and the Dragon King has nowhere left to run: a huge pixel dragon animated by hand, hidden behind a shroud of orbiting scales, breathing real fire and casting the very spells you have been hoarding. Hunt it alone, or with five friends Local and online multiplayer for up to six, everyone equal under the law: one breath each. A downed partner's breath gutters but is not spent. Reach them in time and it flares back to life. Playing solo, Emma walks your flank: her own spells, her own purse, her own judgement, and a knee to bring you back when the way is clear. Win, then choose Corner the King, shatter his last scale, and the terror of the age wraps his wings around himself and begs. One honest strike ends the war, the stolen souls rise, and the doors open on an open sky. Then you decide: walk up into the dawn, or keep descending. The vaults run deeper than his reign, and your deepest hall is your legend. Pixel art drawn by hand and a score written for it. Full controller support. English, Spanish, French.
