Welcome to Obeebok

If you found this page, congratulations.

You have somehow discovered a game made by a husband-and-wife team who spent an unreasonable amount of their lives learning Unity, brainstorming ideas, planning mechanics, testing them, discovering that they didn't work, scrapping them, starting over, redesigning levels, rethinking controls, and testing everything all over again.

Then came the New Input System, debugging touch controls, fighting cross-platform bugs, dealing with Xcode build errors, deciphering Logcat, rewriting things that were supposed to be finished months ago, and navigating the wonderfully cheerful world of app-store deployment.

We did all of that because we had a slightly naive idea:

If you build something properly, people might find it.

Turns out, that's not quite how modern app stores work.

So... what is Obeebok?

Obeebok is a small mobile 3D platformer/runner.

You run, jump, dodge traps, fight enemies, explore different worlds, and rescue adorable turtles from evil wizards.

We've built a new touch-control system where the left side of the screen handles movement and running, while the right side is used for jumping. You can switch between manual control and auto-run, while the original classic joystick controls are still available for anyone who prefers them.

There are 60 handcrafted levels.

There are forests. Swamps. Traps. Wizards. Weird creatures. Turtles that apparently need rescuing from us.

And an alarming amount of code that took much longer to make work than we would like to admit.

Why does it exist?

Honestly?

Because we wanted to make it.

We weren't a big studio. We didn't have a marketing department. We didn't have a publisher throwing money at user acquisition. We were two people learning as we went, trying to turn an idea into an actual game that would run on phones.

And eventually we discovered the less romantic side of the modern app store:

Making a game and getting people to discover a game are two completely different jobs.

There are millions of apps and games competing for attention. The stores have algorithms. The big companies have enormous marketing budgets. Some games can spend more on acquiring users in a day than our entire project cost.

We had... Unity.

And coffee.

Lots of coffee.

So... was it a waste of time?

Ask us after another cup of coffee.

There were definitely moments when we wondered why we were doing this.

There were bugs that should never have existed.

There were builds that worked perfectly until we tried them on another device.

There were moments when Unity, Android, iOS, Xcode, input systems, signing certificates and app-store consoles all appeared to have formed a secret alliance against us.

And yet...

We kept fixing things.

We kept adding things.

We kept improving it.

The controls were rebuilt. Levels were redesigned. Enemies were added. Performance was improved. Screenshots were created in 10 languages. Icons were kept deliberately self-explanatory. Builds were submitted. Rejected. Resubmitted. Updated.

And eventually there was a real game sitting there.

Obeebok.

Made by two people.

The depressing bit

The number of people who have discovered it is tiny.

Painfully tiny.

After all that work, watching the download numbers barely move can make the whole thing feel ridiculous.

You start wondering whether anyone cares.

Whether the hours mattered.

Whether you should have spent those nights doing literally anything else.

Maybe we should have gone outside.

Maybe we should have touched grass.

Maybe the algorithm would have preferred that.

But here's the thing

If you're reading this, you found it.

Somehow, out of all the games, apps, advertisements, recommendations and endless scrolling, you ended up here.

So perhaps the game isn't completely invisible after all.

If you're curious, play it.

If you don't like it, that's fine.

If you delete it five minutes later, we'll survive.

And if you actually enjoy it?

Well...

For about half a second.

Welcome to Obeebok.

And somehow, writing all of this feels more refreshing than watching the last 20 downloads arrive, briefly exist in the analytics, and then disappear again.