PlainLogic Arcade · Endless runner
Chip Run
A chip-bot sprints down the logic board. Dodge the cars, jump the barriers, slide under the gates, and grab every bolt. Ten levels, three speeds, zero downloads.
The game
Run the board
Pip here. I'll cheer you on from the sidelines — grab bolts, don't kiss the bumpers.
Settings
Tune the run. Saved on this device.
Swipe ← → to change lanes · swipe ↑ or tap to jump · swipe ↓ to slide
Controls
How to play
Three lanes, three moves. Everything you need fits on one hand.
Change lanes
Swipe left or right — or press ← → / A D. Use it to dodge the cars: they're too tall to jump, so get out of their lane.
Jump
Swipe up, tap, or press ↑ / W / Space. Clears the striped barriers — and the best bolt arcs hang in the air, so jumping pays.
Slide
Swipe down or press ↓ / S. Ducks under the low gates, which are solid from the knees up — jumping into one still hurts.
Levels unlock every 400 meters up to level 10. Each level runs a little faster and throws a little more traffic at you. Hitboxes are deliberately forgiving — if it looks close, it probably counts as a dodge.
Under the hood
What this teaches
Reaction time is a trainable skill. Chip Run is a reaction trainer in disguise: your brain has to turn "orange car, middle lane" into a thumb-flick in under half a second, and the mapping gets automatic with practice. The difficulty settings just change how much time you're allowed — Chill gives your eyes room, Spicy doesn't.
Every game is a loop: update, then render. Sixty times a second, the game advances everything a tiny step (positions, jump physics, spawn timers) and then redraws the frame. That two-step rhythm — driven by requestAnimationFrame — is the entire engine. Movement uses real elapsed time, not frame counts, so the game runs at the same speed on a 60Hz phone and a 120Hz monitor.
Fairness is designed, not luck. The collision boxes are drawn slightly smaller than the art, the spawner never blocks all three lanes at once, and there's always at least half a second between obstacle rows. None of that is physics — it's a handful of tuned numbers chosen so a loss feels like your mistake, not the game's. That's most of game design, honestly: invisible generosity.