Chemtrails

The Pirate Software game jam is a CIA psyop and my game would've been #1 if it hadn't been disqualified because "Only a downloadable GDD". Really? Why don't you rate the GAME instead of the GDD? Who cares about GDD's?? The government doesn't want the truth coming out. Thor is a CIA agent.

You're a hotshot military pilot whose been assigned one task: Silence the dissidents.

Game was made in 3 days, by me alone, for the Pirate Software jam.

Featuring a procedurally generated city!

The walls are thin. I can hear them. They’ve wired everything, eyes in the lights, ears in the walls, always watching, always tracking. You think the CIA is just sitting quietly in their offices? No, they’re crawling in every shadow, every signal bouncing through the air is a web they’ve woven, strings leading back to their hive. You think your thoughts are your own? They slip into your mind while you sleep, rewiring, planting ideas, steering you like some kind of remote-controlled puppet.

MKUltra never ended. It just went underground, went digital, went invisible. They moved from LSD to pixels and frequencies, hypnotizing us through our screens, subliminal messages buried in the white noise. And the agents—they’re not just spooks in suits anymore, they’re your neighbors, the cashier at the grocery store, maybe even that stray dog that’s been hanging around your house. All of them plugged into the network, feeding data back to Langley, where they’re running simulations, predicting your every move before you even make it.

And it’s not just control—it’s experimentation. The flickering streetlights, the strange hum in the power lines, it’s all part of their tests. They’re tweaking the atmosphere, seeing how we react to different levels of paranoia, how much fear they can inject into society before it collapses. The weather? A tool. The economy? A game. None of it’s real, just layers upon layers of manipulation.

You think you’re safe in your home? They’ve got microdrones smaller than a fly, crawling through your vents, gathering dust and DNA samples. Every word you say, every breath you take, analyzed, cataloged. You can’t trust your phone, your computer, even your own thoughts. It’s all been compromised, infiltrated, turned against you. We’re all part of their experiment, lab rats in a maze with no exit.

The worst part? They want you to know. The leaks, the conspiracy theories—they leave breadcrumbs on purpose, let just enough slip through to keep us chasing our tails, paranoid, distracted. It’s a game to them, a twisted game of control, keeping us guessing while they tighten the noose. But if you see it, if you really see it, they’ll come for you. That black van parked down the street? It’s not just there by coincidence.