Moldrise

It started in your foot. Now it’s in your head.

The only thought left is: GO UP.

The building has thirty floors. Your body has problems - hunger, thirst, exhaustion. The infection doesn’t care. It only wants altitude.

The foot keeps climbing. The rest of you is just trying to keep up.

Meet your Neighbors.

The building is not haunted. The people in it are not monsters - and they want things. Junk. Food. Favors. Someone to do something mildly humiliating to their neighbor.

A few of them know things they shouldn't. None of them know they're describing the same thing.

You're the only one collecting the pieces.

Learn. Adapt. Climb.

The building is the same every time you climb it. The neighbors are the same. The trades are the same. The vending machine on the ground floor has the same stock.

What changes is what you know.

Every run, you learn something. A shortcut. A better trade. An item you didn't know mattered until the floor you needed it on. The building slowly starts to make sense.

And again.

You’ll know what to do next time.

But your foot isn’t waiting.

First-person survival horror. Retro aesthetics. A thirty-floor apartment building with no empty floors and no happy endings.