Whokoban, half-open. iPhone Duo can stand part-folded, and Whokoban now plays around the fold instead of across it. Hold the phone like a book and the board takes one page, the controls the other. Set it down like a laptop and the board stands on the upper half while the controls lie on the lower one. The title screen and the help pages keep their buttons and text off the fold too. Open or close the phone with a picker or a page up and it stays up, redrawn for the display you are on now. Done and Cancel are now a checkmark and a cross, so iPhone Duo can place them in the bar that runs down the side of its screen. On every other iPhone, that is the one change you will see.

Whokoban, in season. The title screen now dresses for the time of year, and six looks come and go with it: Autumn from 15 September, Halloween from 15 October, Christmas from 15 December, Winter through February, Spring from the equinox, Summer from the solstice. Each is listed a fortnight before it opens, worn while its season is on, and kept in sight a little after — back the next year. Each is paid for by an award of its own, counted only while its season is on: bring the harvest in, shove a monster aside ten times, park fifty presents, clear ten levels in the snow, five at the best possible in the garden, walk a thousand squares on the beach. Progress carries over from one year to the next. Six achievements belong to the seasons — 88 in all. They stay outside Nothing Left to Prove, so the one you can only earn in October never holds the rest hostage. The title screen says which season it is and until when, with your progress toward its look underneath; a tap opens the theme picker.

Whokoban, at your own pace. Casual is a new way to play, between Standard and Hardcore in the picker. No move cap and no monsters, so nothing can be lost. Undo is free and goes back as far as you like. Skip deals another level whenever you want one — from the key beside Restart, or from the card that says a board is stuck. There are no tiers on screen: play a tier well and the next levels quietly come from the one above. And it never ends; it is over when you leave it. Ten achievements belong to Casual, one for every ten levels you clear in it, from Kettle On to Bottomless Cup at a hundred — 82 in all. Swipe anywhere. A swipe moves Whoko wherever it starts on the game screen, the arrows and keys included, and a swipe that starts on a key moves you without pressing it. The music and sound-effect switches now flip with a tap anywhere on their row. Progress toward an achievement is now kept after every level. Before, anything counted since the last award could be lost if the game was closed.

Whokoban unfolds. Made for iPhone Duo. Shut, it is the phone game as before. Open, the board takes the room the inner display adds — about 1.7 times the size a phone gives it — with the keys and readouts beside or below it, and every picker and page laid out for a display that is regular in both directions. Turn it, and the board sits beside a column of keys. The Great Halls of Whoko: a thousand new levels made for that screen. The classic game — same rules, monsters from tier 4, the cap at twice the best possible — in halls half again as big, 100 a tier across ten tiers, every one verified and measured like the rest. Unfold the phone and they are what New Game deals; on any phone, the level count at the bottom of the title screen switches between all three sets. The choice is remembered per screen, so picking the Lost Levels with the phone shut does not take the halls away from it open. A fifteenth look, and the only one tied to a phone. Origami: folded paper and crisp creases — walls of indigo washi folded on the diagonal, a cream floor scored like a tessellation, crates as paper boxes that turn from amber to jade, Whoko as a paper balloon, an origami fox for a monster. It is earned by one clear on iPhone Duo's inner display, and on no other device. A keepsake rather than a trophy: it has no achievement and is not needed for Full Wardrobe, so nobody's list is held hostage by a phone they do not own. An undo is now a move. The board goes back; the counter does not — the step you took back stays counted, and the taking back joins it. A mistake used to be free, and the cap a little less of one. With one move left the Undo key dims, because an undo there could only lose the level. A board with no way left to finish now says so. When a push strands a crate or seals you away from the door, a card lands over the board — Stuck! — with Undo and Restart on it, and the board still showing around it so you can see what went wrong. Before, the only word was the status line turning red. Whoko blinks. In every look, to the same rhythm as Herbie in the FlyCraft look — who had been the only one on the board doing anything while standing still. Two achievements for the halls, a first clear and a whole run, make 72. And every screen now reads the ladder of the set you are in: the Lost Levels say six tiers and fifteen clears, not the entry pool's ten and ten.

A second set of levels, and they do not play like the first. The Lost Levels of Xsoko: ninety hand-measured boards in six tiers, and a different discipline entirely. The 5,000 entry levels are generated forwards, and much of their length is walking; these are built backwards out of their solved state, which makes them about three times denser in pushes per crate — closer to the classic warehouse puzzles the genre is named for. You meet them in order rather than at random, because they are sorted by measured difficulty and the curve is the point. No monsters in them, and no move cap. They are long by design — one runs to eighty-four moves at its best — and a clock would turn a thinking game into a race it was never shaped for. The best possible is still measured and still shown; it is simply something to aim at rather than something to fear. The level count at the bottom of the title screen is the switch. It always was a button; now it looks like one, and it says which set you are in. A fourteenth look, Xsoko, earned at tier 8. Brown brick, a flat grey floor and an indigo crate that turns into a jewel the moment it lands — the warehouse as an X11 window drew it in 1994, in homage to the open-source Sokoban a generation of us first met on a university terminal. None of that game's levels are here; only its palette. Seventy achievements now. Three are new: finishing a level in the fewest possible pushes, ten of those, and ten thousand squares walked. Fewest pushes is not the same skill as fewest moves — you can plan a perfect route and still wander getting there — and it is the one the Lost Levels are built to test. The achievements screen used to be seventy entries in one scroll. It now opens as nine cards with a progress bar each, one screen, and a family unfolds where it sits. There is a filter for what you have earned and what you have not. New here? Three cards on first launch explain the exit rule, the swipe, and where the settings live. Skippable, and shown once.

Whokoban x Flycraft. Herbie — FlyCraft's hero, who would rather build a flying machine than fly — drops in from FlyCraft as a free look for everyone: his blue drawing board for a floor, a paper-cutout forest for walls, his cardboard boxes for crates, the launch gate with a padlock on it, and Herbie himself in Whoko's place, blinking. He brings his own music — the riff from FlyCraft's launch — and his "aiiiiiah" opens every run in place of the gong; his boxes knock when pushed and he grumbles when they will not budge. Thirteen looks now, and Full Wardrobe means all thirteen; a new achievement, Frequent Flyer, for a clear in his company. His look is on when you first open this version; one tap on the palette brings yours back. Find FlyCraft at flycraftgame.com. The speaker on the title screen now opens a sound sheet. Music and sound effects switch off separately, and below them every tune the game owns is listed by name — Lamplight, Cold Iron, The Long Corridor and thirty-seven more, plus Herbie's three — to listen to; in play every level draws its own tune at random. The speaker on the board still mutes everything with one tap. One rule has changed: shoving a monster now costs a move, like a step. It used to be free, which made the monster a nuisance and nothing more; now a monster in the wrong place costs you something, and waiting it out is a decision with a price. Best and cap are still measured without it. 66 achievements in all.

A new way to play: Hardcore. Pick it when you start a run and the safety net is gone — no undo, no restart, and one lost level ends the run, whether a crate is stranded or the move cap runs out. The board wears a flame so you never forget which game you are in, and losing gets its own screen: the vault from outside, the door shut, Whoko's light still leaking under it. Four looks only Hardcore can earn: Ember for a clear on tier 1, Noir on tier 4, Circuit Board on tier 7, Gilded on tier 10. Twelve themes in all now, and Full Wardrobe means all twelve. The board learned to dress. Eight looks — Classic joined by neon Arcade, chunky Pixel Art, a raked Zen Garden, Cardboard, Blueprint, Cargo Bay and Stained Glass — earned in play: one per tier as you climb, and the last for finishing a run. Pick them from the palette on the title screen; the rules never change, only the drawing. The game now calls a lost level. The moment no way to finish remains — a crate wedged in a corner, or the door sealed off behind your own crates — the status line says so and the arrows stop, instead of letting you pace out the clock. Undo now recalls exactly the last move, so the way back is always one tap — or a restart. Seventeen new achievements: one for each of the twelve looks and one for the full wardrobe, and four for Hardcore — a first clear with no net, tier 5, a finished run, and one you will find out about the hard way. 65 in all. A run now opens with a gong — one strike, and the music waits for the ring to die before it comes in. Tap "5,000 levels · 10 tiers" on the title screen to see how the pool deals, and How to Play now shows the app version.

The board learned to dress. Eight looks — Classic joined by neon Arcade, chunky Pixel Art, a raked Zen Garden, Cardboard, Blueprint, Cargo Bay and Stained Glass — earned in play: one per tier as you climb, and the last for finishing a run. Pick them from the palette on the title screen; the rules never change, only the drawing. The game now calls a lost level. The moment no way to finish remains — a crate wedged in a corner, or the door sealed off behind your own crates — the status line says so and the arrows stop, instead of letting you pace out the clock on a level that is already over. Undo now recalls exactly the last move, so the way back is always one tap — or a restart. Nine new achievements to go with the looks: clear a level wearing each of the eight, and one for the full wardrobe. 57 in all. A run now opens with a gong — one strike, and the music waits for the ring to die before it comes in. And the small things: tap "5,000 levels · 10 tiers" on the title screen to see how the pool deals, and How to Play now shows the app version.

Whokoban now speaks ten languages: English, Japanese, German, French, Italian, Spanish, Simplified and Traditional Chinese, Korean, and Brazilian Portuguese. Pick yours with the globe on the title screen — it changes on the spot, no relaunch, and a run in progress carries on. Move with a swipe: flick anywhere on the board to step or push — one swipe, one move, so a drag can never walk off with your move cap. The arrow pad is still there, and still exact. Sound that stays: the audio engine now repairs itself after phone calls, AirPods switching, and anything else iOS does to it. If the game ever does go quiet, your next move brings it back. And the app now opens the way it means to go on: black, with the Wizhut Gaming mark.

- Sound stability improvements - You can now swipe to move Whoko around