Your pointer moves both of you: the teal one where you point, the lavender one mirrored across the line. The mirror is perfect. The world is not: each side grows its own red, so the path that saves one self walks the other into trouble. Gems appear one per side and only count when both of you collect yours, which is the game asking, sweetly, for you to be in two places at once.
Why it exists
Divided attention is what happens when two tasks want the same head. This toy gives you two selves, mirrored across the centre line and moved by the one pointer, so every move you make is two moves. It sounds easy for about four seconds.
The mirror is exact
Your right self is your left self flipped, to the pixel, at every moment. That part is fair and simple, and it is the last simple thing in the room.
The fields differ
Each side grows its own red hazards, so a move that is safe for one self can walk the other straight into danger. Every dodge is a negotiation between two halves of the same hand, and either self touching red ends the run.
Gems come in pairs
One gem per side, and the pair only counts when both selves have collected theirs. Greed on one side is worth nothing until the other side catches up. The kill-cam is honest about whose fault it was: one of you was careless, and it was you.
The quiet parts
No account, no ads, nothing leaves your browser. Nothing in this room measures, diagnoses, or knows anything about you; it is a toy about how minds wobble, made with affection for the wobble.