The Timelock Heist
You built the perfect vault—now it's your tomb, and only a hundred-year clock stands between you and freedom.
You are a vault-tester, bound by an unbreakable contract to prove your own locks are impenetrable. The syndicate that hired you has sealed you inside your masterpiece—a vault that opens only once every century—and left you to die. But the contract has a clause: if you escape, you inherit the vault's contents and your freedom. With every second ticking toward a hundred-year lock, you must outwit your own design and the syndicate's treachery in a high-stakes game of survival and heist.
The story begins
The fluorescent strip above you sputters, casting a sickly green pulse across the titanium walls. Your palms press flat against the cold floor as you push yourself upright, the taste of copper on your tongue—blood, or stale air, or both. The vault hums around you, a living machine, and you recognize every vibration: the air recycler struggling, the pressure plates recalibrating, the laser grid reassembling itself in patterns you designed six years ago.
Your fingers find the seam in the wall panel—the one you'd called "the coward's exit," a joke between you and the Locksmith. It's sealed. Welded shut. Someone knew.
Above, a speaker crackles. The Enforcer's voice, smooth as polished steel: "You have one hundred years. I suggest you make yourself comfortable."
The countdown begins. It's not the years that terrify you—it's the air, the water, the way your own design will hunt you like prey.
You have maybe three days. Maybe less.
What happens next is up to you.
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