BLOOM
One world. One winner. One night.
A 30-minute game played by the entire internet at 20:00 UTC. Eat smaller blobs. Dodge the void. The last one alive walks away. Then it's over — until tomorrow.
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One world. One winner. One night.
A 30-minute game played by the entire internet at 20:00 UTC. Eat smaller blobs. Dodge the void. The last one alive walks away. Then it's over — until tomorrow.
—
No lobbies. No matchmaking. No skill brackets. Everyone on Earth spawns in the same map.
The last blob alive at T+30:00 wins outright. Second place is just another blob that got eaten.
20:00 UTC, every night. You miss it, you missed it. The next bloom is tomorrow.
You spawn as a small, slow blob on an enormous shared map. By the end of thirty minutes, exactly one of these things is true: you walked away, or somebody else did.
If you're at least 10% bigger, they're yours. Mass compounds. The longer you survive, the more dangerous you get.
Eject half your mass forward to lunge at prey. Faster, but exposed: two halves of you are easier to pick off.
The world shrinks every minute. At its centre, a black hole. You can't outwait it. The map decides the finalists.
Bloom is the same beat, every night. Five moments. The internet syncs up for thirty minutes and then goes back to being asynchronous — until tomorrow.
Pick a handle, pick a color. Notifications on.
Thirty minutes. One world. You hunt, hide, split, eat.
Your rank, kills, last frame, streak — a card to share.
Yesterday's winner is the morning's story.
Streaks build. The next bloom is already pulling.
Win a bloom, your handle is etched into the record forever. Lose, and you have until tomorrow at 20:00 UTC to try again.
Don't be the one who heard about it the morning after. Drop your email; we'll ping you an hour before the next match opens.