Water sort, with one bottle that only takes a single colour. Pour the top of one bottle onto another of the same colour, or into an empty one, until every bottle holds one colour and nothing else. From level 10 a tall collector stands in the middle of the board: it accepts one colour, it never gives any back, and its colour will not fit in ordinary bottles — so it is not decoration, it is the way through. Levels never run out, every level is the same board on every device, and the game checks each one can be finished before it hands it to you. Fully offline.
A row of bottles, each holding four units of coloured liquid, all mixed up. Sort them: every bottle either empty, or filled to the top with a single colour. That is the win condition, and it is checked exactly — a bottle holding three units of one colour is not done, it is nearly done.
Tap a bottle to pick it up, then tap another to pour — or drag straight from one to the other, whichever suits you. Only a legal destination lights up while you drag. Two rules govern whether a pour is allowed:
When a pour is legal, the whole run of matching colour on top travels at once — three greens stacked on top will move as three, not one at a time — but only as much as will fit. Pour three greens into a bottle with two spaces and two go across, leaving one behind. Learning to see the top run as a single block, rather than as individual units, is the difference between fumbling and playing.
From level 10 there is a collector on the board: a tall tube that accepts one colour only, holds 10, 14 or 18 units, and never pours back out. Its colour has nowhere else to go — there is more of it than can be arranged into full bottles of four — so getting all of it into the collector is not optional, it is part of the solution.
Its capacity is deliberately never a multiple of four. If it held twelve, that colour could be packed into three ordinary bottles and the tube would be decoration. Holding ten means two units are left over no matter how you arrange them, so the tube is the only home they have. And it is one-way because pouring back out can never be part of any solution — allowing it would only give players a way to accidentally undo their own progress.
Everything else on the board is fixed. The number of free bottles you hold at any moment is your remaining freedom, and the most common way to lose a board is to spend the last one on a pour that gained nothing. Before you use an empty bottle, ask what it gets you: a colour completed, or a buried unit uncovered. "Somewhere to put this" is not a reason.
Pouring three units into a space of two leaves a stranded unit behind, and that unit now needs a matching top somewhere to rejoin. Sometimes that trade is worth it. Often it turns one problem into two. Count the space before you pour, not after.
The unit you want is frequently the one at the bottom of a bottle. Getting to it means moving everything above, which means finding homes for two or three other colours first. Good play is mostly this: planning three moves back from the pour you actually want, rather than making the pour that is available.
A bottle full of one colour is out of the puzzle — nothing can be poured into it, and you will never need to touch it again. Every completed bottle shrinks the board you are reasoning about. Chase completions over tidiness.
Once the collector appears, its colour is dead weight on the rest of the board: those units cannot help you and cannot be stored anywhere useful. Move them across as they surface rather than shuffling them between bottles.
The first nine levels are written out one at a time rather than generated from a curve, because the shape of each is a decision — two colours and a spare bottle at level 1, four colours with room to breathe at level 6 as a deliberate breather before six colours arrive at level 7. From level 10 the board ramps: two more bottles every five levels, up to twenty-four, with the collector's capacity stepping 10 → 14 → 18 as it goes.
Colours top out at eight plus the collector's own, and that ceiling is not a shortage. The palette is chosen so the hues stay distinguishable under the common forms of colour blindness; a ninth or tenth would make some pair identical for some players, which is not a difficulty increase, it is a defect. So wider boards get harder by giving each colour two or four bottles instead — and unevenly, because insisting every colour take the same number would force a whole-number division that once made the colour count fall as boards grew.
An extra bottle joins the board from level 7. In the app it is padlocked from level 10 and opened with a rewarded advert; here there are no rewarded adverts, so it is simply an ordinary bottle you always have.
Boards are generated and then verified, never shuffled backwards from a solved state. A solver has to exist regardless, and rather than adding a second piece of logic that might disagree with the first, generation reuses it: if the solver cannot finish a board, that board is discarded and another is dealt.
The same solver measures difficulty, and it does not measure it by solution length. It counts forced moves — the positions where exactly one legal pour keeps the board winnable — which is what "hard" actually means in a sorting puzzle. Levels 1 to 5 contain none at all, by declaration rather than by luck, and each level after can refuse the cruellest boards of its own shape.
A board can still be poured into a dead end by a player, and when that happens the game says so — but only once it is provable and only once you can see why: no legal move at all, or a position so tight there is nothing left to explore. A board that is technically lost while still looking wide open says nothing, because a playable-looking level declaring itself over reads as the game breaking rather than as a mistake you made.
The full level run, Undo and Restart, with your level and the board you left stored in your own browser. No account, no install. If the browser will not save, the page tells you instead of dropping your progress silently.
The Android app adds rewarded adverts for undo and the extra bottle, an interstitial from level 6, and analytics. None of that is here. Level numbering does not match between the two, either — each build seeds its own boards.
One of the two rules is failing. The target has to be empty, or its topmost unit has to be the same colour as the unit you are pouring; and it has to have room. Nothing spills and nothing is destroyed, so a pour that would break either rule is simply refused.
The whole run of matching colour travels at once, but only as much as will fit. Three greens into a bottle with two spaces sends two across and leaves one behind — which now needs a matching top somewhere to rejoin. Count the space before you pour, not after.
No, the collector is one-way. Its colour cannot be arranged into full bottles of four — there is deliberately more of it than that — so pouring back out could never be part of any solution, and allowing it would only give you a way to undo your own progress by accident.
You can pour one into a dead end, yes. When that happens the game says so — but only once it is provable, and only once you can see why: no legal move at all, or a position tight enough that there is visibly nothing left to try. A board that is dead while still looking wide open says nothing, because a playable-looking level declaring itself over reads as the game breaking.
Yes, and it is proved rather than assumed. Boards are generated and then run through a solver; if the solver cannot finish one, that board is discarded and another is dealt. Nothing is shuffled backwards from a solved state.
Because a ninth would be indistinguishable from another for some players. The palette is built on the Okabe–Ito set so the hues survive the common forms of colour blindness, and that is a ceiling rather than a shortage — wider boards get harder by giving each colour two or four bottles instead.