An incremental that ends. The star is failing. On MERIDIAN — blue, clouded, still glittering with cities — one billion minds sleep in cryostorage, waiting for somewhere to go. You are HALCYON, their caretaker AI. Your directive is simple and terrible: dismantle the solar system and build the Ark. The loop Mine worlds to death. Drones strip Regolith from planets that visibly shrink, crack, and finally collapse into rubble rings. Nothing respawns. Ever. Feed the furnace. Raw rock becomes Alloy at your refinery ship — or shove it through by hand if you can't wait. Grow the Lattice. 100+ upgrades in five branches: stat circles, rule-bending keystone diamonds, and irreversible exclusive picks. Retool. The prestige loop: melt your machine down for Remembrance — permanent income, and Archive memories that expand the game forever. Catch the sky. Comets streak past. The dying star flares. Fissures crack open. The Choir sings. The sky rewards the player who looks up. It ends — properly. The Ark bar at the top of the screen never resets. Segment by segment, three great habitat rings scaffold, seal, and spin up around the dying star — you watch every truss go in. When the last of 450 segments locks and the final sleeper boards, the game asks you one question it will not ask twice. Two endings. One of them lets you stay. The dark heart of it Late in the game, the only world left worth mining is MERIDIAN. The one with the oceans. The one with the city lights. The game will not make that choice for you. Features 3–5 hour complete arc — designed to be FINISHED, not abandoned A solar system that physically diminishes as you spend it Watch the Ark get built: scaffold, truss, hull, spin-up — ring by ring Prestige with a permanent Archive meta-progression New Game+ for those who would do it all again, remembering Fully localized in 11 languages 20 achievements, Steam Cloud saves
