Lightwell Game

One beam of daylight. A whole town living on it. Lightwell is an idle game about a single resource that FLOWS. A fixed stream of sunlight enters the top of a deep shaft, and every mirror on the way down makes the same call: divert a share into its terrace garden, and pass the rest to everyone below. Deep terraces pay far more per lumen — but they only ever receive what the mirrors above let through. The whole economy is one budget, cascading, and you set every split. Dust films the mirrors as you play, dimming each one and everything beneath it. Wipe them with a tap — and if you get the entire well spotless at once, the prisms align and every lumen burns triple. The sky itself is a system. A Golden Hour pours in nearly double daylight; Overcast starves the well but lets the dust rest; Rain washes every mirror clean; and a Dust Storm cakes the plates three times as fast — survive one with the well still legible and the prisms align as your reward. The strip always shows what's coming, so you plan around the weather like a real keeper. And every terrace makes a choice: plant Gloamvine for greedy income that dirties its own mirror, Mistfern to pass extra light to every tier below, or Suncup and Rainbell to chase their favorite skies. One cultivar per terrace, real trade-offs, no right answer. The town has opinions too. Charters go up on the notice board — raise so much light before the Golden Hour ends, keep the beam alive through a storm, wipe twelve filthy mirrors by hand, survey a new depth — and every contract you honor pays sunstones and posts a fresh one in its place. When the surveyors are satisfied, call the Equinox: reseal the well, and they recut the opening wider. Sunstones brighten the incoming daylight forever, and buy wiper crews, finer silvering, a barometer, greenhouse glass, a deeper bore. And at every reseal the surveyors now lay out three Relics — carry one, and a Condenser Lens, a Dowser's Twig, or a Second Sun bends your whole next run. Twelve exist; the vault remembers which you've carried. • The beam is drawn live — watch it thin after every mirror you tune • A divert slider on every tier: feed this terrace, or the ones below? • Five skies with a visible forecast — plan wipes and plantings around the weather • Five cultivars per terrace: greed, generosity, or a bet on tomorrow's sky • Town Charters: a rolling notice board of contracts, paid in sunstones • Equinox Relics: draft one of three each prestige — twelve to collect, each warps a full run • Dust dims downstream: one dirty mirror starves the whole lower well • A spotless well triggers Prism Alignment — the frenzy you clean your way into • Weather a dust storm cleanly and the prisms align on their own • Equinox prestige with a thirteen-item Sunstone shop • A Keeper's Journey of 14 milestones, plus a mastery ledger of your keeping • The Keeper's Almanac: a daily gift and a streak that pauses — never resets — when life happens • Terraces keep banking light while you're away — free for an hour, or extend the cap with an optional one-time purchase • Fully offline, no account, nothing collected Send the light down. See how deep it can go.