N was one of the first PC games I played, and the one I have kept returning to. Somewhere between running into a mine for the tenth time and finally getting a jump right, it became a fairly permanent part of my life.

The game above is an unofficial browser adaptation of N v2.0, made to accommodate how I enjoy playing. The initial reason was quite practical: many elements of the Flash game felt too small. I wanted to enjoy it more comfortably. And at the end of the day, an answer to “Is it possible?”.

If you've already started playing and are wondering which button does what, and haven't opened Settings & instructions, the controls and player notes are further down.

A computer, no internet, and N

I got my first PC around 2007 or 2008. I don't remember the year exactly, but getting it was a big celebratory event for me. It was second-hand, with a white tower already turning yellow, stickers on the case, and a thick screen that somehow seemed thin at the time. Windows XP, so many colours, and no internet. Quite enough to be excited about.

N probably arrived on one of the CDs bundled with a PC magazine. I'm not sure, although I remember becoming very interested in those magazines once I got the PC. Free CDs and games were a rather convincing reason to pick one up.

I remember being at school and thinking about levels where I was stuck, working through possible ways to get past them. I'm also quite sure N introduced me to machine-friendly counting, from zero rather than one (the start level of each episode is zero). A small detail, but apparently one that stayed.

N was created by Metanet Software, Mare Sheppard and Raigan Burns. The original game came out in 2004, followed by N v2.0 in 2013. It was the earlier N that I first knew, with limited number of episodes. During my college years in Kavala, I remembered it again and discovered there were new levels. I was over the clouds! All that excitement for a little platformer. A little after returning from Kavala, I completed all 600 levels.

Something about the movement

The movement was what struck me from the beginning. There is something unusually natural about the way this little character moves through a level. Gathering momentum, sliding down a wall, pushing away from it, using a slope to reach somewhere that initially looks out of reach. It seems to follow gravity and evade it at the same time. Mesmerising, and still is in a way.

A level can look completely unreasonable at first. There's an exit somewhere, a switch I need to reach, and quite a few things determined to make that difficult. I try a route, die, adjust something, and die again. Sometimes I keep attempting the same jump long after I should have reconsidered the whole approach.

Then, gradually, the level begins to make sense. Where to accelerate, where to wait, how long to hold a jump, which wall to use. What looked like a collection of obstacles starts becoming a route.

That is my favourite part: finding a solution and managing to carry it through in one uninterrupted movement. The jumps and turns line up, the timing works, and suddenly I'm moving through a place that seemed impossible a few attempts earlier. There's something beautiful about that. And executing it myself is very, very satisfying.

I mostly chase completed episodes. A beautiful run with as few deaths as possible is closer to my ideal than an optimised time score or a position on a leaderboard. Collecting every piece of gold-time isn't usually the objective either. Gold gets considerably more interesting when time is running out.

And when an attempt goes wrong, I don't hesitate much before pressing K. Sometimes I've seen enough.

N makes me wonder what actually makes a game fun. It doesn't have the visual spectacle of Crysis, the open world of San Andreas, or the systems of an MMORPG, yet it competes with those experiences for me. A small space, a few movement rules, and a challenge I have voluntarily decided to put myself through. Quite enough to occupy my mind even when I'm supposed to be paying attention at school, apparently.

Difficulty is a large part of that pleasure. I need something to figure out, and enough resistance for finally getting it right to mean something. Whether the repeated failure along the way qualifies as fun-fun is another question.

Spatial judgement, timing, patience, and a fair amount of stubbornness. A frustratingly beautiful part of my childhood that I still enjoy playing.

Run · Jump · Die · Repeat A fairly familiar routine.

A version for how I like to play

Making the game more comfortable to look at was the starting point. Preserving the movement was the important part. If that felt wrong, there wouldn't be much point in having it on the website.

This adaptation uses the original game's custom physics, translated from recovered ActionScript into JavaScript. It doesn't substitute a general-purpose physics engine. Acceleration, drag, wall friction, jump behaviour and contact with the level geometry follow the translated original rules.

Some of those details are easy to feel while playing. Holding the jump key temporarily reduces gravity under the game's movement rules, allowing a higher jump. Slopes and wall contact influence how you move, while the angle and force of an impact can decide whether you land safely. The movement I remember enjoying comes from these interactions working together.

The simulation advances in 60 fixed steps per second, independently of the screen's refresh rate. Canvas 2D draws the game in the browser, without Flash or an emulator (e.g. Ruffle). The aim is to preserve the original feel, although I wouldn't claim a perfect reproduction of every detail.

All 600 levels are included, across 120 five-level episodes, including the secret columns. Around them is a redesigned browser interface and a deliberately narrower set of features.

The original level editor, online level sharing, accounts, leaderboards, replay viewing and local two-player play aren't included. Neither are configurable key bindings or the ninja colour and flavour settings. These were features I didn't use, so I chose to leave them out.

Sound was another very personal choice. I used to play N muted because I didn't like the sound effects. Here, only the gold-collection sound remains. A little feedback when picking up more time, without the more intrusive sounds while I listen to something else.

This is the version I wanted to sit down and play. Making it available here also gives a favourite old game a place in my little corner of the internet.

Playing N

Reach the exit alive, before time runs out. You'll need to touch the exit switch to open it first. Gold adds time, and most of the other objects deserve some suspicion.

This adaptation is intended for a desktop keyboard. Touch and gamepad controls aren't implemented, and neither is full screen-reader gameplay.

Each episode contains five levels, numbered zero to four, and starts with 90 seconds. Each piece of gold adds two seconds to the timer. Complete an episode to unlock the next one in its column.

Momentum helps, but landing height and surface angle matter too. Reaching the other side doesn't necessarily mean surviving the landing. Holding Z gives you a higher jump; learning when to release it is useful too.

In ordinary episode play, dying and retrying restores the time you had at the beginning of that level. You have room to work out a difficult section without every failed attempt consuming more of the episode's remaining time.

Column Arcade challenges are included as well. In Arcade, time carries through deaths, making repeated mistakes rather more expensive.

The game pauses automatically when it loses focus or the tab is hidden, and paused time doesn't drain the timer. Focus the game again and resume when you're ready.

Keeping your progress

Progress saves automatically in your current browser and profile. There is no account or cloud sync, so opening the page in another browser won't bring your progress along automatically.

Resume returns you to a saved level boundary, with that level's saved starting time. It won't put you back halfway through a jump.

Saves have no built-in expiry, but browser storage can still be cleared or lost. Use Export save to keep a backup, and Import save to restore it or transfer your progress to another browser or computer.

Exported backups are password-protected; ordinary saves inside the browser are not. The backup is created and opened locally, without the game uploading the file or its password. Keep the file somewhere safe and remember the password, because forgotten passwords cannot be recovered.

These backups belong to this adaptation and aren't interchangeable with the original game's save files.