Four maps somebody could not stop playing

What it is

A first-person shooter that opens the way a web page opens. No download, no account, no launcher — type a name, pick a map, and you are in a match.

Play alone against bots at three difficulty settings, or host a lobby and send friends a link. Up to four people share a match and bots fill whatever seats are left, twelve combatants on the field. Team Deathmatch and Free-for-All, with score and time limits you set, and match rules that can put the whole lobby on one class of weapon if you want a snipers-only game.

Between matches there is a loadout screen, an arsenal of twenty-three weapons, four finishes, and a medal system that shouts at you when you have earned something. All of it is on the Asset Archive, where you can turn every weapon over in your hands and play every sound in the game.

The four places

None of these are the original maps. Not one polygon came out of a Call of Duty game — every wall, catwalk, container and stairwell was built again, in code.

They are remakes the way a cover version is a remake: the layout you remember, the sightlines you learned, the corner you always die on. Rust is the derrick yard with nowhere to hide. Nuketown is two houses and one street with no distance in it. Highrise is two office towers over three hundred metres of nothing. Terminal is a departure hall, a burning airliner, and thirty metres of tarmac in between.

They exist because somebody loved playing them. That is the whole reason, and nobody is being charged for any of it.

What made what

The game was designed and built by Vesper, and written with Claude Opus inside Claude Code. Four outside things contributed real work; everything else was generated for this project.

Almost none of it was modelled in advance

There is no game engine here and no build step. The whole thing is JavaScript and Three.js served as plain files, running directly in the browser. That is not a constraint anyone imposed — it is the point. A game you can link to is a game people actually play.

And nearly everything you see is generated from code rather than authored as an asset. All twenty-three weapons are assembled at runtime out of primitives — receivers, barrels, rails, magazines, optics — with their metal, wood and polymer surfaces drawn onto a canvas as the page loads. So are the four maps, the sky, the muzzle flashes, the tracers, the medals and the entire interface. There is no model library sitting behind any of it, which is why the arsenal on the Asset Archive can be built in front of you while you watch.

What the operators needed on top of Meshy

Meshy gave the eight soldiers their bodies, their skeletons, and five captured animations. The other fourteen states — standing, going prone, crawling, mantling, sliding, climbing a ladder, and three of the four ways of dying — were animated in code on that same skeleton, along with the arm and hand solving that puts a grip on whichever of the twenty-three weapons the soldier happens to be carrying. You can watch every one of them, weapon by weapon, on the archive.

What most of the work actually was

Not writing things. Finding out why something already written was wrong. There are a couple of hundred automated checks standing behind this game: one builds every weapon and proves it is still a single connected object, another parses every shipped file after one stray character in a shader comment took the whole game down. A recent one exists because five weapons had been firing another gun's gunshot — every file present, nothing throwing, nothing in a console anywhere, and no way to notice except by knowing what an AK is supposed to sound like.

How to play

It needs a mouse and a keyboard. There are no touch controls, and a virtual thumbstick would make it a different, worse game rather than a portable one — so on a phone it stops politely at the door instead of loading a match you cannot play.