🏥💡 Lights out, feet loud
The fluorescents flicker like they’re telling secrets, a door buzzes with the confidence of a game show buzzer, and you’re suddenly running. Obbie escape from the mental hospital doesn’t explain; it dares. One corridor spills into another, a vent coughs a draft that smells like freedom and lemon cleaner, and a friendly EXIT sign lies with a smile. You hop the first rail, slide under a lazily sweeping camera, and realize the building speaks in beats. Hit the beat, live. Miss the beat, hello floor. Kiz10 boots you straight into motion, and the map never stops negotiating.
🌀🏃 Corridors that change their minds
This place feels alive. Some floors tilt when you sprint, politely nudging you toward a safe pad… or toward a mop bucket with opinions. Doors double as puzzles, opening on a three-count you learn by ear. Rooftop ducts hum in two pitches; the higher one means the fan is about to test your commitment to gravity. Even the posters help and heckle at the same time—“WALK, DON’T RUN,” they say, right before a moving platform demands a dash or it leaves without you like a train with drama.
🎮🧩 Moves that make mischief
Controls are simple so your brain can chase the hard part. Tap-jump clears chairs; hold-jump arcs over railings with that cartoon hangtime you’ll pretend was planned. Slides are little miracles—feather the entry and you exit with a speed kiss that turns the next jump into a victory lap. Wall-kicks stick for one glowing heartbeat; kick again during the glow and you’ll climb like you bribed physics. There’s merciful coyote time on edges, just enough to save one late step and encourage bravery without handing out immortality.
🔐🗝️ Little puzzles, big exits
Every wing hides a two-step riddle that you can solve at running pace. A keypad shows smudges on three numbers—order them by the blinking ceiling lights and the lock sighs open. A color door listens to hallway paintings; line up the frames by hue and the path appears like the building remembered its manners. In the lab, beakers sing notes when you jump pads; match the melody and the laser grid turns polite. None of this halts your sprint; it bends the route just enough to make you feel clever midair.
👀🔔 Staff, sensors, and fair trouble
Patrols move on rhythms you can read. Orderlies stroll, pause, glance left-right-left; slip on the right and you’re a rumor. Drones sweep in arcs that match the hum of the vents; jump on the off-beat and you thread the cone like a magician. Cameras blink before they swivel, a tiny warning you’ll start trusting more than your memory. Nobody is out to be cruel; they’re honest, loud, and wonderfully predictable once you listen. Learn one tell and an entire hallway starts agreeing with you.
🎒🎲 Locker luck and tiny superpowers
Blue lockers purr with short-lived perks. Silent Soles mute footsteps for ten seconds—perfect for glass tiles that tattletale. Echo Dash repeats your last clean dodge at half strength, often just enough to rescue a brave line. Mirror Controls flips left-right for five seconds of chaos that somehow makes the replay funnier. And the hero pick, Hall Pass, autocompletes one puzzle node you’ve been side-eyeing, letting the sprint stay loud. Stack two good perks and the building feels rigged in your favor; mix in a cursed one and you’ve got content.
🔊🎵 The building’s metronome
Sound becomes a second minimap. Safe pads tick in neat quarters; dangerous planks thwack a half-beat off, the universal sound for “don’t.” Cameras hum higher right before they sweep. Air vents whoosh louder at the moment you should not be there. Nail five clean actions in a row and a shy hi-hat sneaks into the soundtrack; at seven, the bass warms as if the walls officially approve. Miss, and the highs duck for a breath so your head gets a reset without the UI shouting.
🧠💡 Tricks you’ll swear you invented
Aim jumps with your shadow on shiny floors—reflections lie when the adrenaline arrives. Slide a half-beat early so the exit drops you dead center on the next pad. On conveyor corridors, hop against the belt to anchor, then ride it out for free distance. If two vent lines split, choose the one with the louder hum; it usually hides a magnet fan that yoinks you into perfect height. And the heretical one: sometimes dropping one platform to line up a clean triple is faster than forcing a messy rescue. Down is part of up.
🧭🏢 Wings with very specific attitudes
Records Wing is tidy: moving file stacks, polite lasers, and signage that winks when you’re on the right pace. Maintenance Maze is steel catwalks, steam bursts that count to four, and a heroic slide under a rolling ladder that makes you feel like a movie. Rooftop Recess goes all wind and neon; billboards hide wall-runs that only reveal themselves if you stop staring at your shoes. Art Therapy Hall paints safe platforms with matte strokes and hides the fakes under glossy glare—your eyes learn, then your feet follow.
👥🤝 Co-op jailbreak and couch comedy
Two players turn every corridor into theater. One runner baits a drone with the cough emote while the other crawls a vent and slaps a rescue lever that drops a temporary bridge over what used to be a problem. High-five at checkpoints and both runners get a brief Echo Dash; time it midair and the camera leans like it’s proud of the friendship. If your partner face-plants into a motivational poster, you didn’t see anything, and the instant replay is somehow both merciful and petty.
🎯⏱️ Modes for every brain hour
Story strings wings into a tidy arc from intake to rooftop, sprinkling puzzles and shortcuts you’ll swear weren’t there the first time. Time Trial trims chatter and measures pure flow—just you, the clock, and a ghost who is always you-but-ruder. Chaos Period adds mutators like low gravity in Records, mirrored corridors in Art, and double-speed vents on Rooftops; it’s rude, fair, and addictive. Zen Study widens timing windows, softens hazard speeds, and lets the soundtrack do most of the talking while your hands rehearse better habits. Daily Route hands everyone the same seed so leaderboards compare nerve, not luck.
🛠️📈 Progress that feels like swagger
Unlocks are verbs, not chores. Late-Jump Leniency appears after a streak of clean landings and sticks as long as you keep playing smooth. Rope Memory lets your next rope swing stay taut a blink longer if the last one was perfect. Decoy Footsteps record your best rhythm and play it down a side hall while you take the vent; drones love chasing ghosts. Cosmetics do micro work: visor tints that calm rooftop glare, sneaker laces that glow near safe pads, a backpack charm that jingles when a trick door is about to swap. You look cooler because you’re moving smarter.
🫶♿ Comfort, clarity, kindness
Color-safe palettes keep hazards, collectibles, and exits legible at pace. Calm flashes tame celebration bloom. Motion softness dials chase-cam sway from cinematic to polite nod. Full input remap, big fonts, captions for audio tells, and haptics that purr on perfect beats while whispering just before off-beat traps. Focus Mode dims background clutter in puzzle halls so eyes get signal, not noise. Accessibility isn’t an afterthought; it’s how more players get to feel clever.
😂📼 Fails your friends will clip forever
You will salute a helpful poster, step forward confidently, and meet a floor panel that disagrees. You will brag mid-beam, wave, and absolutely step off because hubris has excellent timing. You will pick Mirror Controls “for fun,” outrun a drone anyway, and then run directly into a calming water feature with the dignity of a cartoon. The restart is instant, the last eight seconds are saved, and the second attempt looks suspiciously like you knew all along.
🏁🌤️ Why daylight feels possible
Because the building speaks in rhythms you can learn. Because patrols are puzzles with manners and vents are ladders with secrets. Because every hallway rewards nerve that listens and speed that respects the beat. Mostly, because Obbie escape from the mental hospital on Kiz10 understands the joy of a great obby: readable chaos, quick retries, small boosts that celebrate skill, and that delicious second when a slide, a jump, and a perfectly timed door all agree you belong outside. Take a breath. Count the beat. Find the vent. The sky is closer than it looks.
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Obby the Squid 
Prison Escape: 
Robux Оbby: Zo
Escape Evil Gra
School Escape O
Cool Obby : Bre
Obby:Only up
Obby +1 Squid G
Obby Disaster S
Obby with Frien
Grow Garden Onl
Obby: Ragdoll B
Hell Or Heaven 
Obby: Gym Simul
Obby Tower Jump
Obby: Escape fr
Obby World: Par
Lava Jump
Squid Game Ming
Stand on the ri
Steal a Brainro
Lava Blox
Grow a Garden
Robby: Slide Do
Obby Survive Pa
Roblox: The Flo
Obby: Dig to th
Adopt Me
