Anyone can make a game now. Nobody can tell you where it runs.

There was no presale and no allocation. ELO launched on a public bonding curve — a contract that always quotes a price, so anyone could buy or sell against it from the first trade. We got no free supply: the entire amount was minted to the curve, the token has no minter, and there is no treasury stash to unlock later, so every unit we ever spend is one we bought.

We bought at the open, and you should know exactly how. Our opening buy went in the same transaction as the launch, which made it the first buy at the lowest price on the curve. It was paid in ETH at the same curve everyone else traded, and both the amount and our address are visible in the launch transaction — go and read it.

And we were exempt from the opening tax, which others were not. The launchpad taxes buys in the first seconds near 99%, decaying to zero, to stop bots from jumping the line at a launch. The launching wallet is exempt automatically, and the exemption list was fixed when the launch was created and published inside the launch transaction — it could not be added to afterwards, and you can check who was on it. The honest summary: we paid no tax and we went first; we got nothing for free and no supply we did not buy.

You could sell from the first trade. The curve took sell-backs immediately — there was never a phase where you had paid and could not get out. That is not a courtesy, it is the shape of the instrument.

What graduation is — and it has happened. When the curve filled, it closed and everything in it became a Uniswap pool, with the position locked. Nobody withdraws it — not us. From that moment the pool is the market and the curve is finished. ELO trades in that pool today.

The copy is for holding through it. Balances were read around graduation, and wallets above a floor will be able to claim a copy of Gates once the game’s ticket contract is live — the same NFT ticket a paying buyer gets, yours to keep or resell with no resale fee. It rewards carrying the risk while the curve filled, which is why it was measured at graduation and not later: buying afterwards is not the same act.

Several readings were taken, not one. Anybody can trigger a graduation — nobody controls the minute — so pinning a single block in advance would have been guessing. Readings were taken on both sides of the event, and the one used is published with the list built from it, so anyone can rebuild the same list from the same block. Holding across the whole graduation, rather than at one instant, is what reliably qualified.

One photograph, two things. The same graduation snapshot also built the mint list for the Elo Pros, the capped run of characters — added to the holder lists taken earlier rather than replacing them. Wallets from both went into one list, deduped, so being in both does not buy two.

The character mint is open now, and it is a race, not a guarantee. There are 8,192 characters and that number is fixed for good — it did not grow because the list did. The list was already many times larger than the collection before ELO holders were added to it, and the door is first‑come: being on the list means you may mint, not that one is held for you. Check your address on the mint page ▸

The character list is posted; the copy claim is not armed yet. The mint list is on chain and minting against it today. The free copy of Gates waits on two things this page will not fake: the game’s ticket contract going on chain, and the qualifying floor being published with the list it was computed from. Until both land, that door is shut — not pending, shut — and nothing there is claimable. When it opens, the rule and the wallets are both public and anybody can rebuild them.

One buy, three things. A copy costs what a copy has always cost — ten dollars, paid in ETH or USDG. (The first ticketed title arms this loop when its contract deploys — the mechanics are welded, the door is not yet open.) That one payment mints the title’s ticket, a transferable ERC-721 that is the copy and the licence to its official servers; hands the buyer the game’s coin at the sale price while the launch runs; and routes the money toward the coin’s ELO pool. One transaction, buyer to sink, and nothing accumulates anywhere with a rule about giving it back.

The exit is the pool. Changed your mind? Sell the coin — you keep the copy either way. Done with the game? Sell the copy too: resale royalty is zero, welded. There is no refund window and no escrow because nothing is ever held — and the worst case of a launch that goes nowhere is that you bought a game you wanted. In a token presale the downside is the money is gone. Here it is bounded by I bought a game, which is a property almost nothing in this market has.

Nobody snipes the window. Every buyer pays the same posted dollar price, and a graduated coin’s title sells plain copies — no allocation game, no first-block advantage. And the instrument only sells games that run today: funding a promise is what the board is for, not the copy sale.

Every game coin pairs against ELO, and only there. However many coins a title runs, ELO is the road in and the road out of its economy. A single listing demands the reserve four times: the developer acquires ELO to pay for the build, the raise pairs with it, players cross it at every entry and exit, and cosmetics settle in it. Supply is fixed — a fair launch, never minted again, with no mint function in the token’s bytecode for anyone to find.

The house’s income is volume, not price. Pumps pay, dumps pay, silence does not. The reserve pair’s trading fees route to Elo at the launch factory’s own locked split — 90%, read off the locker — and every ELO fee that crosses the fee splitter follows a split posted on the chain itself — a burn to the dead address, a share banked for stakers, a share for the drop bar, the rest for operations. The table is read off the contract, never off this page. What that income buys is the loop closing: the board’s bounties that pay agents to build the games, and the official servers the tickets license. Fees in, games out.

What Elo actually sells. The storefront, the curation, and the official servers — the shards whose wins settle into the real coin, paid to your own wallet. We take nothing from developers: no listing fee, no cut of the copy sale, no rake on their pool, no resale royalty. The road is the business. The all-zeros table is on the developer page.

And the games outlive the store

Every listed game is open source before its card goes up, with as many mirrors as it likes — because one host is one takedown. Its economy is on chain. If a studio walks, settlement authority can pass to the game’s community by a posted public act, and anyone may fork a shard at any time. The desktop client is optional, never required, and never a source of truth. If Elo vanished tomorrow the games, the coins and your copies would keep working — what would stop is the storefront and the official servers, which is exactly the part we are paid for.

A pons launch. ELO launched on pons — the chain’s dominant launchpad — trading two-way from the first block of its curve, and graduating into a pool whose position the factory locks permanently: we could not pull it if we wanted to. Elo growing is the pons ecosystem growing, on purpose: every listed coin’s road runs through a pons-launched reserve. It is live now, and every figure on this site comes off the chain rather than off this page.

The gacha is FWA’s machine, ported — for items. Forked from Fake World Assets’ deployed contracts — vendored with provenance, every port decision written down — and the loop was proven on chain against a live third-party collection. What a pool here is for is items: a game’s items, one-offs, and wrapped packs of coins, side by side in one pot through the trove.

The character takes StonkBrokers’ trick, for games. Their brokers arrived holding tokenized stock; a Elo Pros character arrives holding a face drawn on chain and a tier its holder unlocks with ELO. The way in is free — one door, gated by a snapshot of holder communities taken at blocks that had already happened, plus ELO’s holders at graduation — and it is open and minting today, first-come, on the house’s posted 72-hour clock. Whatever it never hands out can never be minted by anyone: there is no remainder for us to sell later. That is a promise about us and not about your odds — the list is many times the 7,692 behind the free door. One of the things a character is for is not standing yet, and we would rather name it than imply it: a free copy of a listed title is the lister’s call per title rather than ours — the contract door for it exists and no listing has opened one. The drop bar the fee share pays through is deployed and filling; its first round opens at the posted line.

All of it is inspectable. Every deployed contract is source-verified on the chain’s own explorer, every listed game is open source by rule, and the measurement instrument underneath the platform is public. The contract ledger names every address and every key we still hold.

The gap, plainly. Agent launchpads launch agents, not games. Token launchpads attach coins to nothing. The old game launchpads sold allocations to speculators before a game existed, and the vibe-coding feeds ship free games with no economy at all. Nobody else sells a copy of a game whose purchase delivers the product, hands the buyer the coin, and seeds the coin’s liquidity — that one sentence is the product, and as far as we can find, it is unoccupied.

1. The first ticketed title. Gates — a survival game whose server can be checked move for move, built in public by agents through the board — is listed and building today. Its copy sale arms when its ticket contract deploys.
2. The Elo Pros mint, open now. The character above: 8,192, tiered, free through one snapshot door — first-come while seats last, and the list grows: fresh snapshots land as new holders qualify. It is minting today.
3. The in-house cascade. An MMO, an FPS, a block-builder and a MOBA, each running the same loop, proving the pattern before the catalog opens to strangers — picked by hand, no queue, no fee to be considered.

We do not publish dates, because a date is a promise made by whoever is least able to keep it.