A captcha gauntlet with a grudge. PROCTOR, the verification AI, needs you to prove you're human - and it's no longer sure it wants you to pass. Phone exclusive: your finger is the character.

CHECKSUM

The Setup

You know this page. Everyone knows this page. "Security check. Before we continue, we need to verify that you are human." You've clicked through it a thousand times without thinking.

This time the checkbox moves.

PROCTOR has verified four billion sessions and flagged a child as a robot without feeling anything - as far as it can tell. You are the first session to hold its attention. Now the tests stop being tests, and start being questions.

The Loop

Pass humanity verifications - rapid-fire, 4 to 14 seconds each. Trace the signature. Tap with a heartbeat. Hold for exactly three seconds. Do not touch the screen, no matter what it offers you.
You get three attempts. Burn them all and you're classified: BOT. That's the game over - and the insult is the retry button.
Streaks build a multiplier. Precision pays. The further you get, the less the page bothers pretending to be normal - clean corporate white decays into full cathode-ray glitch.
Between tests, PROCTOR talks. Corporate boilerplate first. Then curiosity. Then envy. Then things a verification system should not be saying out loud.

What's In It

Ten verification tests at launch, each one a captcha you recognize - weaponized. The dodging checkbox. The image grid. The slider with the gap. The distorted code on a keypad that remaps itself after every key.
Your finger is the character. No joystick, no abstraction. Two-thumb holds that are literally impossible with a mouse. A restraint test where the only winning move is nothing.
Corruption as progression. One variable drags the entire art direction from Google-clean to phosphor hell. You can see the difficulty.
PROCTOR. The verifier with four billion sessions of loneliness. The tests are the rhythm; PROCTOR is the melody.
Two-minute sessions. Built for the device the fiction lives on. Haptics, synthesized audio, zero loading.

Who It's For

Anyone who has ever failed a captcha and felt, for one irrational second, unsure. Players who want WarioWare pacing wrapped in the same cyber-thriller universe as Terminal.exe, NOISE_FLOOR, and SEGFAULT. Sessions run two minutes. Records last longer.

Where You Can Play

Phone exclusive, by design. Desktop visitors get a locked door: HUMAN HANDS REQUIRED.
Mobile web first at checksum.cathoderaygames.com - rolling out now. Native iOS / Android wrap to follow.
Status: playable vertical slice. Waitlist open - waitlist gets new test drops first.

Same universe. Same enemy. This time it's the one deciding what counts as human.