Control
Green Movement is controlled using the WASD keys, while Blue Movement operates through the Arrow Keys.
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The Green and Blue Brothers crouched behind a flickering hologram ad, eyes locked on the towering bank ahead. Its walls pulsed with bioluminescent thorns, guard bugs scuttling across obsidian plating. No vault had ever housed this many emeralds—or boasted defenses this brutal. A gloved hand tapped twin portal bands on their wrists. Time to make banking history. **Tier 1: Ghost Protocol** Infiltration required silence. They slipped through a ventilation portal, boots landing soundless in the currency mint. Emerald dust hung thick enough to taste. Blue disabled laser grids with timed portal jumps while Green manipulated security feeds using refraction angles. One wrong calculation would wake the thorns. They left no fingerprints—just warped light where portals opened and closed faster than cameras could ping. **Tier 2: Labyrinth Gambit** The vault core loomed—a shifting maze of prismatic platforms suspended over void. Thorns coiled like serpents beneath walkways. Green launched portals between moving ledges, creating a bridge only they could traverse. Blue hacked pressure-sensitive floors by bouncing emerald shards through portals, tricking sensors into ignoring stolen loot. Every gem snatched tightened security. They danced across chasms as platforms disintegrated behind them. **Tier 3: Echo Heist** Alarms finally blared. Guard bugs swarmed, mandibles snapping. Instead of fighting, the brothers weaponized the bank’s own teleportation grid. They rerouted emergency exit portals into the vault’s heart, flooding corridors with decoy holograms. While bugs chased ghosts, they plunged through unstable portals into restricted deposit boxes. Each jump risked landing them in thorn clusters—precision mattered more than speed. **Tier 4: Phantom Exit** The final portal flickered as emeralds overloaded their bands. Behind them, the bank’s core melted into chaos. Ahead? Freedom. They leapt through closing rifts as guard bugs tore at their heels, thorns erupting like shrapnel. The brothers emerged midair above their hideout, gems spilling into waiting nets. Reinforcements arrived to find vaults empty, portals dormant, and a single note: *Interest collected.* By dawn, every black market buzzed. Guards found no culprits—just warped physics and the lingering scent of mint. The brothers toasted with emerald-infused champagne, richer than nations. Some called it luck. They called it banking hours.
