Dustbot

You are a robot vacuum nine centimetres tall, woken on your dock in a house you have never mapped, with exactly one charge to spend. Played at ankle height through a tilt-shift lens, where a living room is a continent, a phone charger is a mountain range, and under the sofa is where the real dust lives. Drive blind and the coverage map draws itself behind you — that map is the real progress bar. Twelve days, deep pile that drinks your charge, doors to shove open, and Mabel the cat, who sheds and swats.