Punch Rock

One woman, one mountain, and a window you leave open.

A lone climber wanders the mountain on the edge of your screen (or the full screen, I’m not your supervisor). She hunts, chops, climbs and... punches rocks as you direct. Every night she makes camp and lights a fire. No one knows why she’s climbing. She knows.

PUNCH ROCK is a casual idle survival game that lives in a small window beside whatever else you’re doing. It isn’t a game you sit down to play. It’s one you leave running and pay as much or as little attention to as you want.

You give her the day. She does the work.
Each morning you have a handful of action slots, as many as her pack can carry. Spread them across five pursuits: forage, chop, mine, climb, and camp. That’s the whole plan. Then she goes and does it, at her own pace, in real time, whether you’re watching or not.

You never steer her directly. The tray is your input. The mountain is the output.

The whole mountain.
Foothill forest. Green and generous. Where you learn the rhythm.
Autumn country. Wider ground, further to walk for the same haul.
The swamp above the rope. Footing stops being free.
A desert oasis that has no business being this high. Stay hydrated.
Alpine forest. Tall trees, real cold, and an ice wall at the end of it.
And above the ice: a snowfield that wants to kill you, a cave full of crystal light, and the summit.

Gear opens the way up. Ladders, ropes, picks, packs, snowshoes, better tools, and things you’ll find lying in a cleared field with no explanation attached. Each one raises the height she can hold, and the mountain immediately asks for more.

The mountain sets the burn rate.
Wood is warmth. The higher she climbs, the colder it gets, and the faster the fire eats.
Food is fuel. The further she ranges, the more she needs.
Ore and gold buy gear, and better gear raises the height she can hold.

Push past what she can carry and you aren’t punished, just set back: a hard night costs her some ground, never her things. Somewhere above camp is a line where her output meets the mountain’s drain, and the whole game is moving that line upward until it reaches the top.

You cannot lose this.
No death. No lost saves. No confiscated materials. The worst day on the mountain is a hard one, and she gets back up. If she’s earned a dog by then, he helps. Close the window for a meeting and the mountain keeps its own time while you’re gone.

Attention is rewarded, never required. No timing bonuses. Nothing to click fast.

A finite climb.
The mountain is generated fresh for every run, but the journey isn’t endless. Reaching the summit ends the climb, and what’s waiting at the top is small and human. How it goes depends on how you climbed. There’s more than one ending, and one of them is hard to earn.

Then you can go again, on a mountain you’ve never seen, with everything you’ve built carried with you.

Along the way

• Pixel art with dawns, firelight, and weather moving across the slope

• Sun, cloud, rain: cloud is always the warning, so the storm never blindsides you

• Stone cairns on the trail that answer the right stone with storms, tornadoes, sudden forests and falling rock

• A resizable window (tall strip, square, or wide) that can stay on top of your other work

• Trail signs, an altitude readout, and a journal you open only when you want it

• A whole mountain of gear, gates, shortcuts, and things worth walking off the path for

• A dog, if you earn one