Push carved seals onto glowing marks in 15 mossy temple chambers
Deep beneath the canopy lies a temple of overhead mossy chambers, and you are its keeper. Your task is simple to describe and far harder to carry out: shoulder the carved stone seals forward until every one of them rests on a glowing floor mark.
You move tile by tile. Drag the keeper in the direction you want to go, and when a shoulder meets a seal, the seal slides one tile ahead of you. That is the whole of your strength — and the whole of your problem. A seal can be pushed, never pulled back. Once stone has travelled a tile, it stays travelled. So the question in every chamber is not really where the seals should end up, but from which side you must stand before you touch them at all.
There are 15 chambers, and they tighten as you descend. The first few give you room to realise how the pushing works, to walk a seal across open moss and nudge it onto its mark. Then the seals multiply, and a corridor that comfortably held one of them becomes a place where two block each other. Corners stop being decoration and become traps: a seal shoved into one can be moved along two walls and no further.
Pits wait in the floor of the darker rooms. Send a seal into one by mistake and it is gone, taking the chamber's solution with it. One-way thresholds are quieter about their cruelty — step through and the way behind you closes, so the route you planned to take back out of a chamber may simply no longer exist. Both ask the same thing of you: look at the whole room before the first drag, not after the third.
The pleasure here is the pleasure of a puzzle that never hurries you. Nothing is timed. Nothing taps its foot while you stand in a mossy corridor counting tiles and working out the order in which the seals must be approached. You can study a chamber for as long as you like, try a sequence, see where it strands you, and begin again knowing something you did not know a moment ago.
Quiet rooms, grey stone, green moss and the slow satisfaction of the last seal clicking onto the last glowing mark. If you like your thinking unhurried and your spaces tight, the temple is open.