A precision platformer where the room prints itself only while you are airborne. Land and it snaps dark, leaving a wireframe afterimage that fades in under half a second. So a short hop is a cheap glance and a long leap is a look you have already committed to, and the question is never can I make this jump but how much do I need to see first.
Standing on the ground you can see yourself, the slab under your feet, and a distant ember where the exit is. Leave the ground and the whole room prints itself in one hard frame. Land, and it is gone again.
That inverts the usual order of a platformer. Normally you look and then jump; here the jump is the looking, so you are always committed to an arc before you know what it is going to land on.
A short hop is a cheap glance that buys you a metre of confidence. A full leap is a long look at a room you are already crossing. Deciding which one a situation deserves is most of the game.
Landing starts a wireframe afterimage decaying over about four tenths of a second. Walk and it dies in roughly three tiles; chain hops and the room never really goes dark at all.
That single number is the difference between a memory game and a cruel one. A player who keeps moving keeps seeing, which means the rhythm the game rewards is the one that also feels best to play.
Gaps, spikes on both floor and ceiling, one-way ledges, and platforms that drift horizontally, vertically and diagonally. A drifting platform is only where you last saw it, and you only saw it from the air - the one place you cannot wait.
Death is instant and so is the retry, with the room rewound to frame zero. You are not learning a jump, you are learning a room, and the late ones force a deliberate wasted hop just to see what is ahead.