Tap to Illuminate
Every tap sends a pulse through the darkness. Sound waves reflect off walls, revealing geometry in real-time — a sonar map painted in audio.
Where forgotten sounds become your only guide.
Every tap sends a pulse through the darkness. Sound waves reflect off walls, revealing geometry in real-time — a sonar map painted in audio.
Water drips mark depth. Wind whispers through fissures. Distant rumblings warn of collapse. The soundscape is your HUD — no UI, only ears.
HRTF-processed audio places every reflection in 3D space. Headphones required — your brain does the rendering.
Stone, water, crystal, fungi — each surface filters echoes uniquely. Learn the timbre of terrain to navigate blind.
Stratified generation creates distinct biomes: fungal gardens, crystal veins, flooded sumps, ancient ruins — each with unique acoustic signatures.
Rivers carve paths through rock. Water physics determine humidity, echo decay, and bioluminescent growth patterns — all simulated, not scripted.
Ceilings collapse. Passages flood. Crystal formations grow. The caverns evolve across play sessions — your map is a snapshot, not a promise.
Optional on-screen ripple visualization for players who are deaf or hard of hearing — every echo has a visible counterpart.
Controller vibration maps to echo intensity and distance. Feel the cavern walls before you hear them return.
Entire game playable with one input. Tap timing replaces movement controls — accessibility as core mechanic, not afterthought.
Independent sliders for ambient, echoes, UI, and narrator. Protect hearing without losing directional cues.
Full subtitle support with speaker identification, icon-only UI mode, and dyslexia-friendly font toggle.
No fail states, no time limits. The hollow waits. Exploration speed is yours to choose.
I don't write music — I design absence. The score is negative space. A single cello harmonic at 40 minutes. A distant choir when you find the first crystal garden. The player's taps are the percussion. My job is to make the silence feel composed.
Q: The bioluminescent cyan — does it have a sound?Cyan is 432Hz modulated through a granular delay, fed by live water recordings from Slovenian caves. It breathes with the player's heartbeat — we pull BPM from controller haptics. The light sings at a frequency you feel in your chest.
Q: What's the one sound you're proudest of?The "memory echo." When you revisit a chamber, you hear a ghost of your first tap there — pitch-shifted, degraded, haunting. It's your own past, reflected back. Players cry. That's the game.