A VR experiment for the Quest 3
A chain of generated low-poly worlds joined by doors. Explore, follow the arrow on your glove, sync the door, open it and step through. The world you leave is deleted.
How a jump works
Every world is a full, living place: a valley of stone walls and sheep, a night market under a rail line, a hall of forges under a mountain. Things move in every view, and small props can be pushed, grabbed and thrown.
A glove sits on your left hand with a screen on its back, like a watch. Its arrow points to the one door that leads on and tells you how far it is.
Aim the glove at the door and make a fist. Arcs jump from your hand to the frame and pulse faster as the sync fills. Hold steady for about two and a half seconds.
The door opens onto the next world, correct in both eyes. No fade and no loading screen. Behind you the world you left is deleted, and the next one has never existed before.
No timer and no threat. Wander as long as you like and look for what each world hides: viewpoints, hidden places, curious objects, creatures and small events. Hold the menu button when you want to go home, and a door to the hub stands up in front of you.
Each world gives you a head start, measured from the walk to its door. The margin shrinks with every door you cross. Discoveries along the way buy time. Your score is the doors crossed, then your time, then what you found.
Worlds
Every world starts as a hand-written brief: what the place is and what is going on in it, how it looks and moves, who lives there, what there is to find and where the door stands. Each run keeps the character of its world but changes its map, its discoveries and the place of its door. These are the worlds with a concept image so far.
A bright summer valley of round hills, stone walls and small woods. Part of the flock has wandered off across the pastures, and a storm is building in the west.
A wide heather moor under a fading sky, cut by dark pinewoods and a bog. Tonight, as every year at dusk, the villagers carry lanterns across the heath along a line of cairns to a ring of standing stones.
A small oasis of palms and a spring sits between red dunes and a wide white salt pan. A caravan has camped there for three days.
A flat wetland of reeds, channels and alder woods, with a village of eel-catchers on stilts joined by boardwalks. The old sluice that keeps the fen drained has jammed, and the keeper spends day and night at it with a toolbox and a lantern.
A night market packed under an elevated rail line: noodle bars, repair stalls, stacked apartments and neon in every colour. It rains without a pause.
A dusty town of one main street, a rail depot and scattered corrals. The payroll for the mine comes in by stagecoach at noon and goes into the bank.
A city of narrow alleys, bridges and canals on the last night of carnival. Everyone wears a mask.
A fishing town of steep lanes, slate roofs and a stone harbour wall. A storm is coming in on the evening tide.
Great pillared halls, rows of forges and mine galleries cut over several levels under a mountain. The forge bellows run on a water wheel fed by an underground channel.
A closed metro line of tiled platforms, running tunnels and maintenance corridors, its lowest level half flooded. A few people live in the dead stations, around fires on the platforms.
Under a mountain monastery run the catacombs: ossuaries, a cistern, monks' cells and a library of chained books that no one may read. The monks copy, sweep and pray on a fixed round.
A steep slope cut into narrow tea terraces, stepping down from a pine ridge to a river gorge. It is early morning in the first picking week.
A long lake among birch woods at the end of the season. The fishing camp on its north shore is packing up: boats come out of the water, nets hang to dry for the last time, shutters go up on the cabins.
A small island of black sand and old lava around a volcano that has smoked for three days. Nobody is afraid yet, but the fishing village is ready: boats are pulled to the waterline, water jars are filled, and the elders watch the plume.
A sunken basin where mushrooms grow taller than houses and glow from the gills as the light goes. It is twilight, the hour when the caps start to shine and release their spores.
A town of timber and brick built in steps up a tall sea cliff, with mooring masts and landing decks jutting out over the water. Airships of every size hang at their masts.
A village of steep-roofed timber houses in a high snowy valley, on the one night of the year when the whole valley comes for the winter market. Stalls fill the square, a brass band plays by the bell tower, and people skate on the frozen pond under strings of lanterns.
A walled old town of flat-roofed houses, covered souk lanes and small squares. The sun is low and the souk is closing: traders pull down shutters and roll up awnings, porters wheel the last carts out.
The images are generated concept art: the look each world is built toward, not screenshots from the game.
How it is built
Godot 4 renders on a Linux PC and builds every world from JSON specs at runtime, loading models as glTF. WiVRn streams the picture to a Quest 3 over USB or Wi-Fi.
A TypeScript server on Bun, on the same PC, generates each world from a seed: terrain, chunks and placement, streamed ahead of the player. Settings, runs and caches live in a local SQLite file.
Before play, Opus runs through the Claude Code CLI with no time limit. It ranks candidate models for each world, and it is planned to write whole settings from one sentence. No Opus call happens during play.
During play, Jev is planned to make the quick typed decisions that make each run unique: map, door place, discoveries. Every call has a timeout and a seeded fallback, so the game plays without it.
Models and materials come from CC0 and CC-BY sources: Quaternius, Kenney, Poly Pizza, Sketchfab, Poly Haven and ambientCG. They download into a local cache with a hash and a credit line for every file.
Low poly, but not too low: faceted shapes with enough detail to read as real things, one palette and one asset family per world, soft light, gradient skies and fog.
Status
Each layer ends with a check in the headset before the next one starts.
