Deepworks

Earth is theirs. What’s left of us hangs in orbit, and the fleet is starving.
Deepworks is a 2D mining, physics, and automation game with a tower-defense spine. A Hub slams onto a claim. You and a named crew of robots punch into the rock, cap the seams, refine on site, and haul the take back to the surface. Every machine you fire up makes noise. Noise decides what comes for you.
Hold the claim. Launch with the cargo. Sell it to the Mothership. Buy a better bit. Go down again.
Your factory is a pile first
Ore is not an abstract number. Every chunk has weight. A miner cuts it and drops it. It falls, stacks nine high, then spills sideways. Belts move whatever is standing on them. Lifts scoop a heap, ride the shaft, and tip — left or right is your call. Miss the landing and the load rains back down the hole.
Machines reach. Tractor beams pull loose ore from a patch of floor into a hopper and dump product at their own feet. The Hub is a sink: anything that drifts under its beam is banked. Getting it there is the whole game.
Sorters peel one item from the flow. Throwers pitch everything seven tiles wherever you point. Robots haul what nothing else will. Generators eat the coal lying within reach — so where the pile sits is a decision.
A shaft that backs up. A bucket that tips into rock. Copper spilling past a belt you laid one tile short. You watch it happen. Then you go fix it.
Orbital support
Call in orbital support to take on a tough wave.

Under the rock
Soil gives way to shale, granite, obsidian. Boundaries wander. Harder stone is a wall until the crew brings the right bit.
Water moves. Break into a chamber and it pours down your shaft, spreads across the floor, and drowns whatever is standing in it. Ore falls slowly through it. Pumps turn a pool into canisters the Mothership will pay for. A seep behind the wrong wall does not stop until it is spent.
Lava is deeper, red, and final. Anything it touches melts. Your ore included.


On the surface
The louder the works, the worse the wave. Crawlers. Flyers. Bulwarks. Sappers that ignore the guns and go for the Hub. A Resonant Titan when the array lights up.
Turrets, walls, mortars — FMJ, AP, HE, EMP — pressed in your own Armory from three grades of ammo. Overcharge. Orbital support called onto the claim. The Hub’s gun for when the line breaks.
Launch now with what you have, or dig one more chamber and gamble the next wave.

Between claims
The Mothership is the pause. Sell the take. Hire robots. Buy support and upgrades. Take contracts. Queue the Forge so something is refining while you’re gone.


Built for the deck
Full controller play with a pad-driven cursor. Mouse and touch too. Every claim is generated. Every robot has a name. There is always one more seam a little deeper than you should go.
The rock does not care how clever your layout is. The machines do not care how close you are to a full hold. Solve the pile. Hold the line. Bring it home.