Endtide is a fast, arcadey tower defence where the enemy is a rising ocean instead of an advancing army, wrapped in a planetary campaign you can rewind. Battles are short. The war is long. The sea is patient.
The design has three north stars: the strategic sweep of Civilization's world map, the physical menace of Creeper World's fluid enemy, and Timberborn's conviction that controlling water with engineering is a joy in itself.
One idea carries the whole game: a warm, living toy-world city standing against a cold, beautiful, menacing sea. The city is lit windows, gardens, people on causeways. The sea is a luminous, physical mass that rises and breaks. Everything the game does lives in the gap between those two.
The threat is something you watch, not a number in a bar. You see the waterline climb the wall you built, and you hold your breath to find out whether it holds. When it does not, that is not a game over. The world clock winds back, the planet keeps everything you banked, and you found again, smarter.
Bradley Hunt
I have wanted to build a game since the original Age of Empires fell out of a cereal box. That disc got played into the ground. Between rations of it I lived on demo discs from PC magazines: thirty-minute slices of a hundred other worlds, replayed until the next issue arrived. Then a PlayStation showed up, and the first Ratchet & Clank taught me what it feels like when the people who made a thing sweated every detail.
I grew up and built software instead: enterprise AI by day, and Pelaris, an AI coaching platform for athletes, in the margins. The game itch never left. Endtide is the cereal box finally getting paid back.
It is the game I have always wanted to play: Civilization's long view, a tower defence where the enemy is real simulated water, and a campaign that treats losing as a move. I build it solo in Melbourne, Australia, and every screenshot on this site comes straight out of the simulation.
More of my work is at bradleyhunt.ai. Press materials are in the press kit.
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One short letter when there is something real.