// how it was made
This one is not a game. It is the shared save record sitting behind all of them, and the single page where you can read it: a handle, your total playtime, every achievement, and a card for each game showing what you have actually done in it.
Open it →You start by naming yourself. The handle is capped at twenty four characters and the avatar is nothing more than the first letter of it. Under that sit four totals: time played across everything, achievements unlocked, how many games you have touched out of the full list, and how many sessions you have started.
Then one card per game. A game you have played shows its lifetime counters, things like blocks mined, tickets resolved or enemies killed, alongside its best values and any trophies you earned. A game you have never opened is dimmed, and its card is just a link telling you to go and play it.
The games here were built one at a time, months apart, and each one kept its own high score in its own corner of the browser. Nothing tied them together. There was no reason to go back to one after finishing another, and no way to see that you had played seven of them. A shared save record is the cheapest way to make a pile of separate toys feel like one place.
It is also deliberately small. Nothing is uploaded. There is no account, no email, no password and no server behind any of it. The whole profile is a single record in your own browser, which costs nothing to run and cannot leak anything, and which also means it will not follow you from your laptop to your phone. That was the trade, and I would make it again.
A game can report exactly five things: that a session started, that time has passed, that a counter went up, that a best value was beaten, and that an achievement was unlocked. That is the entire vocabulary, on purpose. Keeping it that small is the reason adding the profile to a game that was already finished takes minutes instead of a rewrite.
Best values know which way is better. A high score wants the largest number, a lap time wants the smallest, so the game says which when it reports one. Achievements only ever fire the first time, so the small trophy notice that fades up from the bottom of the screen never repeats itself.
Playtime is not written down every frame, because saving sixty times a second to make one number tick upward is waste. It collects quietly and is written roughly every ten seconds, with a final write when you leave the page so the last stretch is not lost. Any single gap longer than one second is discarded entirely, which is the cheap way to stop a tab left open behind a lunch break from logging hours you never played.
One of the eight games on the list is the oldest thing here and still keeps its score its own way, so its card stays dim however much you play it. That is a gap, not a decision. The wipe button genuinely wipes, with a second click to confirm and no undo afterwards. And because all of this lives in your browser, clearing your site data clears it too.