▸ The studio
A micro studio with epic taste.
MicroMicro makes small games for audiences the big studios skip — a language, a diaspora, a myth, an in-joke — and treats their stories with the seriousness they deserve.
Why we exist
Most studios chase the largest possible audience. So the games for everyone else never get made.
Not because nobody wants them — because a spreadsheet somewhere decided the audience was too small. A phrasebook game for a language almost no one still speaks. A Sámi lullaby app. A game built entirely around one week-old joke a single community is telling. The market says don’t. We say that’s exactly the room we want to be in.
The other half of the problem is speed. The trends and moments that could carry a tiny game move faster than a normal studio can hold a greenlight meeting. By the time the machine says yes, the moment’s gone.
MicroMicro lives in that gap: small enough to build for one specific room, fast enough to arrive while it’s still warm. We keep the scope tiny on purpose, so the maths works at a size everyone else ignores.
Why “MicroMicro”?
What we believe
Six principles, no manifesto.
One loop or nothing
Every game is a single mechanic you understand in five seconds and feel in one. Depth is a trap at our size.
Made for one room
We build for a specific audience who’ll feel it was made only for them. Niche isn’t a limit — it’s the whole point.
Ship inside the moment
A trend has a window; a meme has a shelf life. We launch while it’s alive, then move on without ego.
With the culture, never about it
Insiders lead every project rooted in a living culture. We ride trends. We don’t tour the people behind them.
Small scope is a feature
Constraints are why we can serve you at all. We’d rather ship one honest loop than promise a world we can’t build.
Leave gracefully
When a game’s moment passes, we sunset it with thanks — not a fire sale. Then we go find the next room.
How a game gets made
A tiny core, and the people who actually know.
Keeps the app small
The cultural authority sits with the people on the right — not the two or three on the left.
Our commitment
Building on someone’s culture is a responsibility. Here’s how we hold it.
Every project rooted in a culture is led by people from it, and everyone who contributes is named — not thanked vaguely in a footer.
Knowledge, voice, and art are work. Reciters, translators, and artists are paid, not “exposed.”
If the people a game is for don’t want it made, or want it changed, that’s the end of the conversation — not a negotiation.
Nothing ships in a language until a native speaker has written and checked it. No machine translation stands in for a person.
Small studio. Open door.
Whether you hold a story, speak a language, make art, or just see a game nobody’s made yet — we’d like to hear from you.