A beacon fell into the black hole and still repeats all clear. The convoys believe it. Tear them free, three arks at a time.
At an old navigation junction, the beacon that guided the great convoys fell past the event horizon of a black hole, where time, seen from outside, stands still. Its last transmission has repeated ever since: all clear, certified lane. The autopilots cannot refuse a valid signal, the pilots sleep in hibernation, and convoy after convoy turns onto the lane that falls toward the horizon. You hold the last relay. One ark alone can never break free, but three of the same fleet, engines coupled in resonance, tear out of gravity together. Bring all twenty-four convoys through, descend the endless orbits Beyond the Horizon, and defend Today's Convoy, the same one for every player.
Drag anywhere to aim and release to fire. Land three arks of the same fleet together and they couple in resonance and tear free of the lane. When a gap closes on matching fleets, the rescues cascade. Tap the launcher to swap arks. Breached reactors cut their neighbours loose, a full capacitor discharge frees an entire fleet, dead hulls must be chipped off. If the convoy reaches the horizon, the black hole feeds, and the run is over.
At an old navigation junction, the beacon that guided the great convoys fell past the event horizon of a black hole. It did not explode, and it did not go silent: at the horizon, time freezes for anyone watching from outside, so its last transmission has repeated ever since, without end. All clear. Certified lane. The autopilots carry the beacon's certificate in their memory and cannot refuse a valid signal; the pilots sleep in hibernation, whole cities with them; and convoy after convoy of sleeper arks turns onto the lane that falls toward the horizon. A single crystal fang of frozen light glints on the hole's rim, and that fang gives the game its name. Gemfang is a chain shooter, the genre Zuma made famous, rebuilt for the browser around that one unstoppable lie.
You hold the last relay above the lane, a launcher ring loaded with arks of your own. The physics is the game: one ark alone can never reach escape velocity, but three of the same fleet, engines coupled in resonance, tear out of gravity together. Land your shots so kindred arks meet, and the rescues cascade down the line. If the convoy reaches the horizon, the black hole feeds, and the run is over. Twenty-four lanes stand between the signal and the last fleets; every convoy you bring through lights stars on the new chart, seventy-two in all. In the second act the hole has grown on everything it swallowed: it folds the lanes over themselves the way it bends light, and drags the convoy in deep tides. The final lane carries the new beacon. Bring it through, and it broadcasts over the lie on its own frequency, with a newer certificate: the frozen signal will repeat forever, but no one will listen again. Beyond the campaign wait the endless orbits Beyond the Horizon and Today's Convoy, the same board for every player.
Yes. Every game on Play is free in the browser, with no download and no install.
Yes. The daily run starts from a shared seed, so every player defends an identical convoy, and the leaderboard is a pure comparison of skill.
Bringing a convoy through with two stars means you are keeping pace. Three stars on the late lanes, or orbit 6 beyond the horizon, put you in keeper territory.
Stars are earned by score against each lane's bar: the taller your cascades and the deeper your multipliers, the more stars you light on the chart. All seventy-two together complete the map.