Control
In the shadowed corners of the crumbling citadel, the mouse moves with silent purpose—a flicker of matted fur and scarred whiskers. Its eyes gleam like twin shards of stolen moonlight, attuned to every creak of rusted armor in the abandoned halls. Once a mere scavenger, it now bears the Mark of the Burrow, ancient glyphs pulsing faintly along its spine, granting unnerving intelligence. The vermin lords of the Rotting Court whisper promises through crumbling teeth: soon, the walls will sing with gnawing hymns, and stone itself will kneel before the Rat Crown's ascension.
c
When scores are tied, split-second precision decides victory. Direct the ball’s lateral movement by tapping the screen—left to veer toward crimson goals, right to arc toward azure zones. Keep momentum steady; hesitation cracks dominance. Every tap sharpens reflexes, every rebound tilts rivalry. Adapt faster, strike cleaner, own the tiebreaker.
