Spreadsheet Survivors

You’re an intern. The spreadsheet is fighting back.

Spreadsheet Survivor is a fast, funny bullet-hell roguelite that runs inside a pixel-perfect fake spreadsheet. You are a single cell. The errors want you gone. Drop formula-turrets, vacuum up cash, level into absurd builds, and outlast a 20-minute workday.

It looks like work. Feels like your coffee break. It is the most productive-looking way to waste an afternoon.

Four cursed workbooks

• Balance Sheet — the clean classic. No surprises. (There are surprises.)

• Co-Authored Cloud Sheet — "helpful" colleagues are live in the document. They drag, sort, paste, and reformat your cells mid-fight, narrating every sabotage with passive-aggressive toasts.

• Legacy Document (2003) — held together by macros nobody understands. Crashes three times a day. A 1.2GB workbook. Production-critical.

• Unlicensed Product Activation — your subscription lapsed. Features get revoked on a rolling timer: your turrets get locked, your movement gets throttled, your magnet gets pulled. It would be more cost-effective to quit your job.

The full office suite. Nobody installed it on purpose.

Your Inlook fills up as you play. Every achievement, every death, every milestone generates a bespoke email from someone at the company.

LinkedOut ~ The professional network nobody asked for, in Windows 95 beige. Endorse coworkers for skills you’ve never seen them use.

BullSheet ~ A trading terminal for companies you’ll grow to resent, including a yogurt startup with no business being public. Read the charts. Buy high, sell low, panic. Dying at your desk has never paid better.

The Boss Key

Hit ~ at any moment. The game vanishes behind a mundane and flawless fake workbook. One more tap and you’re back in the fight. Yes its for that boss, not for the one in the game.

No spreadsheets were balanced in the making of this game. Side effects may include looking extremely busy, flinching at the word "audit," and an inexplicable urge to press the tilde key in real meetings.