Up a narrow ladder, behind a door that creaks right on cue, lies an attic nobody has tidied in a century. Pixel Markiplier has promised to sort it before sunrise, card by card: lanterns, pocket watches, top hats and crystal balls, all face down in the dust. The neighbours have already nicknamed the job Dusty Attic Spooks, and for good reason.
Two playful ghosts have moved in among the curios. Turn one over and it shouts boo, steals a few seconds and then floats off to swap places with a card right next to it, so keep an eye on where it goes. Every tidy corner reveals a bigger pile, and when the clock runs out the candle burns down. How much of the attic can pixel Markiplier sort?
