
01 — Floor 1 · Flat 101
The Gardener
Selin Doğan
Plants to the ceiling. A robot still waters them, every morning, at six.
Arkadia Block2100Awake 0 / 100

A hundred doors. One frozen building.
A free story game for your browser. You wake on the roof. Everyone else is still asleep. Walk the corridor, open the doors, and decide who to wake.
Scroll to walk the corridor
Trailer · 0:35
Gardens, perfume, a hundred stopped clocks and a plane built from scrap.

01 — Floor 1 · Flat 101
Selin Doğan
Plants to the ceiling. A robot still waters them, every morning, at six.

02 — Floor 1 · Flat 107
Noor Sabbagh
Hundreds of glass bottles, each labelled with a memory instead of a scent.

03 — Floor 1 · Flat 112
Aurelio Conti
Hundreds of stopped clocks. One is still ticking.

04 — Floor 1 · Flat 113
Henrik Dahl
Robots built a full-size plane out of scrap, right here in the living room.
05 — Floor 1 · Flat 115
Zeynep Kurt
Shelves of tea tins to the ceiling, a packing table that never stops, and one panel that runs it all.

06 — Floor 1 · Flat 116
Jule Hartwig
A row of desks with a monitor on every one, a phone booth made from a wardrobe, and coffee made every morning for people who aren't coming.
Everything drifts in 201. The lost room is on this floor, and a kitchen that grew a forest.
07 — Floor 2 · Flat 201
Prof. Elena Vasquez
The gravity panel failed in 2070. Everything in here has been drifting ever since.

08 — Floor 2 · Flat 208
Victor Lang
Rooms of memory in glass, each hung at its price. A few were never sold.

09 — Floor 2 · Flat 210
Camille Roux
Old spices grew into a forest of glowing mushrooms. A robot still cooks her recipes every evening.
10 — Floor 2 · Flat 213
Kept by the housekeeping robot
Every building has a place where lost things end up. In Arkadia Block it is this room.
11 — Floor 2 · Flat 216
Margit Lenz
Framed jigsaws on every wall, frame against frame. On the table, the last one, finished except for a single hole.

12 — Floor 2 · Flat 219
Paul Becker, and Bolt
Somebody brought a bus stop home. An ancient robot dog sleeps on the bench. It lifts its head when you come in.
A dance floor where whales drift past the wall, and a gate behind curtains of wisteria.
13 — Floor 3 · Flat 304
Ayşe Yıldız
A club the size of a living room: a wall of water where whales drift past, a podium ringed with light, a round bar. Nobody has danced here since the fall.
14 — Floor 3 · Flat 306
Dr. Ilse Varga
The walls are a living web of light. In the middle of the room, a neuron as tall as a person.

15 — Floor 3 · Flat 309
Theo
The most famous voice in the city for a decade, and almost nobody knew his face.
16 — Floor 3 · Flat 311
Hanne Vogel
Paintings on every wall, even over the sink. A robot rehangs them every season, the way she asked.

17 — Floor 3 · Flat 312
Mireille Okafor-Laurent
Wisteria pours from the ceiling in purple curtains. At the back, a round gate glows magenta.

18 — Floor 3 · Flat 313
Lucía Herrera
An altar of marigolds, candles, sugar skulls and photographs. Yours is among them.

19 — Floor 3 · Flat 317
Benny Oduya
A model castle fills half the room. A tiny rollercoaster runs a loop around the ceiling.
Books gone to moss, a ceiling of lanterns, a wall of screens left on.

20 — Floor 4 · Flat 401
Helga Brandt
Books swollen into moss sculptures. A tortoise walks slowly between the shelves.

21 — Floor 4 · Flat 403
Kemal Aydın
He wrote the name plate on every door in this building by hand, one careful letter at a time.

22 — Floor 4 · Flat 405
Tenzin
Faded prayer flags cross the ceiling. A robot keeps spinning the prayer wheel, endlessly.

23 — Floor 4 · Flat 412
Otto Brenner
A wall of screens around one empty chair. Most of them have gone blue.

24 — Floor 4 · Flat 416
Elif Sezer
Pierced lanterns hang from every inch of ceiling, coloured glass and brass, throwing stars across a room of velvet and pattern.

25 — Floor 4 · Flat 420
Pyotr Volkov
A dark room full of old windows hanging in the air, each lit from behind, each where it used to sit on the front of the building.
The top floor. A story waiting for its last choice, wound toys, and a pool that kept its light.
26 — Floor 5 · Flat 501
Nino Beridze
Cushions on the floor, a story open on the wall, and a choice on the last page that nobody has made yet.

27 — Floor 5 · Flat 506
Carmela Russo
Leopard print, pink shag, and a sunset that has been setting since 1992.

28 — Floor 5 · Flat 511
Gus Petrakis
A room of old vending machines, every one rewired and lit with his neon. One of them sells parts for robots.
29 — Floor 5 · Flat 517
Opa Fritz
Shelves of wooden toys, wound and waiting. Forty-seven of them are wrapped.
30 — Floor 5 · Flat 518
Hana Weiss
Her sister swam every night, in any weather. Hana sat at the side with a coffee and kept an eye on her.
The story
You wake on the roof of Arkadia Block with frost on your sleeves and a pod still breathing cold beside you. It is 2100. Seventy years ago, a hundred households signed the same form, lay down and let the building freeze them. The idea was to wake up somewhere better.
Nobody came back for them. The robots kept sweeping. The plants got into the lift shafts. The dogs learnt where the food was kept. The building carried on in the dark, quite politely, as if everyone had only popped out.
Below you are a hundred windows, and some of them are lit. Behind each one is a flat exactly as it was left: the post on the mat, the kettle, the note nobody finished. You have enough warmth to wake some of them. Not all of them. You’ll have to choose.
How it plays
Five floors, twenty doors on each, a hundred flats. Find a lit window and step inside.
Every flat is a small 3D room, kept as it was the night it froze. Notes, photos, crates, the thing on the hob. Take what you can carry.
Each flat asks you one thing. There’s no right answer, only yours, and your answers decide which way the building opens up.
Your warmth runs out. Spend it on someone and they wake. Choose carefully; you can’t warm everyone.
For brands and founders
Some flats in Arkadia Block belong to real labels and studios. We build yours around your actual products and your actual story, so players walk through it, pick things up and remember it.
hello@afterthaw.com

Case study · Flat 509
A real leather label became the shop that froze with sixteen bags still waiting to be collected. They are her real designs, rebuilt in 3D, each with its own name.
Press kit
On AI. AFTERTHAW is made by one designer working with AI tools; she directs and reviews every room and line. No AI generates content while you play.
Images, the trailer file or an early build: hello@afterthaw.com