HEFT

HEFT Night shift in a scrap yard. The day shift is still walking, and they want the Core. You have no gun. You have a hall full of ovens, crates and soda cans. Your ammo is the furniture. Forty-one props, each with real physics mass. A soda can chips. A road divider takes nearly half a Brute in one throw and stops its swing mid wind-up. RECALL is the centre of it. Throwing empties the floor in front of you. Press R and every loose prop in the cone ahead rips back through whatever is standing in the way: a lane cleared and your hands re-armed in the same second. Junk is your wall, and it is finite. The horde shoves a barricade aside rather than pathing around it. Scrappers steal loose props and run for the door. Recall the wall and it is ammunition again. Four ways to die. Shamblers, and there are always more. Runners that close the last stretch in one committed lunge. Scrappers that take your ammunition and move faster once laden. Brutes with 340 health and a slam that clears every prop at their feet. Some clock on armed. Every blow is telegraphed, and a heavy prop landed while the arms are up breaks it. A run is a shift. Ten waves, six loading doors, one upgrade from three between each. Survive the last and you clock off with the score banked. Or stay on for overtime, where every wave past your shift multiplies what you take home and can also take the lot. Twenty-two upgrades, three shift modifiers, one to four haulers, full controller support, saved runs and a global leaderboard. Made for the game jam, and made in code • Every sound is generated. No licensed audio and no sample packs: a Python DSP layer synthesises 39 events across 136 takes and 10 music stems, from the contactors banking the hall's lights to the Core coming apart. • The cover art is a script. The plate is drawn and blurred in code rather than painted, and the wordmark is polygons rather than type, so the mark owes nothing to an installed font.