Death is the door.
A warrior falls on a nameless field and wakes in the bardo — the space between death and rebirth. Behind him, an empty suit of armor. Ahead, a threshold of gold.
The passage
- Fight
- Receive boons
- Descend
- Die or escape
- Return changed
Every swing is a commitment.
Weighted strikes, honest telegraphs, openings you earn. The bardo's wardens hit like falling architecture — and the fight never cheats. When you fall, you will know why.
No two underworlds ask the same price.
Each run crosses the death-realms of humanity's great faiths. Learn the weighing floor of Duat, the rime court of Niflheim, the wind of knives over Mictlan — each with its own rules, trials, and mercies.
What you rescue remains.
Souls freed and relics carried out of the dark settle in a town between worlds, rebuilt run by run from everything you refuse to leave behind. It remembers you — even when the underworlds don't.
