An arcade cabinet and a hundred-hour open world are supposedly the same medium, and in one sense they are: you do not watch either one, you operate it. Meaning arrives through your hands. But the cabinet was engineered to be unfair, its difficulty tuned to swallow quarters, while the open world is built to keep you inside it for a season. Between those poles sits everything from a two-person indie release to a blockbuster with a cast of thousands.
Games spill into the real world more literally than most art. Tetris escaped a Moscow computing lab in 1984 and became one of the most-played things humans have ever made. Speedrunners still find routes through decades-old titles that the developers never dreamed existed. Players rebuild games from the inside with mods, sometimes producing works larger than the original. The screen is only where a game starts.
This daily puzzle roams the whole range, arcade era to recent release, cult favourite to household name, and it rewards knowing a game by its footprint rather than its box art.