Bubblix The Official How-to-Play Guide Eat. Split. Survive. Cash out. (Preferably in that order.) CRYGODI FunClub · Live Games
Welcome to Bubblix! Bubblix is a real-time, real-money multiplayer arena game. You are a bubble. Your job description is delightfully short: eat everything smaller than you, and avoid everything bigger than you. Up to dozens of players share one enormous 6,000 × 6,000 map at the same time, all trying to do the same thing to each other. It sounds simple, and it is — for about eleven seconds. Then someone twice your size comes barreling toward you, splits in half mid-charge, and swallows you whole. This guide exists so that you get to be the one doing the swallowing.
The Golden Rule: Mass Is Not Money Before anything else, understand the two numbers that rule your life in Bubblix. They look similar. They are not. Mass is your size. It determines how big your bubble is, how fast you move (bigger = slower, sorry), who you can eat, and who can eat you. You gain mass by eating food pellets, ejected mass, viruses, and other players. Mass is glory. Value is your money. When you join a room, you pay the room's entry fee and your bubble is loaded with the room's prize amount as its starting value. Value only changes hands one way: when a player gets eaten, their value flows into whoever ate them. Food doesn't add value. Viruses don't add value. Only devouring your fellow humans adds value. It's a very honest economy. When you leave the game — or when the round ends — your current value is paid out to your balance. If your payout is more than your entry fee, congratulations, that's a Win. If you get eaten, your value goes to your predator and you walk away with nothing but a life lesson.
Getting Started
Pick a room from the Live Games page, pay the entry fee, and you'll spawn somewhere on the map as a modest little bubble of 20 mass carrying the room's prize amount as your value. You are now officially the most edible thing in the arena. Let's fix that.
Controls • Mouse — your bubble follows your cursor. That's it. Your grandmother could learn it in one try (and she might beat you). • Space — split. Every cell you have that's big enough divides in two, and the new half launches toward your cursor. This is both your best attack and your most spectacular way to die. • W — eject mass. Flings a small pellet of mass in the direction of your cursor. Used for feeding, baiting, and virus mischief (more on that shortly).
Food: The Humble Pellet Roughly 2,700 tiny food pellets are scattered across the map at all times. Each one is worth exactly 1 mass. They don't run, they don't fight back, and when one is eaten, a replacement quietly pops into existence somewhere on the map a few seconds later. Food is how you go from "snack" to "threat" in the early game — sweep through dense pellet fields and grow. One warning: while you're vacuuming up pellets with your face, keep glancing at your surroundings. Nothing in this game is more delicious to a big player than a small player who is concentrating.
Eating Other Players (and Not Being Eaten) Here is the exact rule the game uses, so you never have to guess: to eat another cell, you must be at least 25% bigger than it (1.25× its mass), and your bubble's edge must reach past its center — a gentle graze does nothing; you have to really commit to the meal. There's a twist: if you are currently split into multiple pieces, the requirement rises to 33% bigger (1.33×). The game makes split-attacking slightly harder, so a swarm of medium pieces can't casually hoover up everything in sight. Plan your ambushes with that margin in mind — being 26% bigger is a kill as one cell and an embarrassing bounce as two. When you eat someone's cell, you gain all of its mass and all of its value. If it was their last cell, they're out of the round, their money is now your money, and you get a kill on the leaderboard. Try not to feel too bad. They would have done the same to you. They were probably trying.
Splitting: High Risk, High Cuisine
Press Space and every cell of yours with at least 35 mass divides in half. The new half rockets toward your cursor at high speed — this is the classic "split kill": launch half of yourself directly onto a smaller victim before they can react. It is fast, dramatic, and extremely satisfying. The fine print, and it matters: • You can be in at most 16 pieces at once. Past that, Space is just a spacebar. • Split pieces can't merge back immediately. The reunion takes about 30 seconds, plus extra time the bigger the pieces are. Until then you are several smaller, more edible bubbles instead of one scary one. • Your value is redistributed evenly across all your pieces the moment you split. If an enemy eats just one of your four pieces, they take a quarter of your money with it. Splitting literally spreads your wallet across the map. So: split to kill, split to escape (the launched half moves much faster than a big lumbering blob), but never split casually near someone big. A split bubble is a buffet with the lids off. One more thing — if a single cell of yours ever grows past 22,500 mass, it auto-splits on its own, in a random direction, whether you like it or not. The game refuses to let anyone become a planet.
Ejecting Mass (the W Key) Pressing W makes each of your cells (with at least 35 mass) spit out a pellet toward your cursor. Here's the accounting: ejecting costs you 18 mass, but the pellet that lands is only worth 13 mass to whoever eats it. Yes, 5 mass simply evaporates. Consider it a convenience fee. Why would you ever pay that fee? Three excellent reasons: • Feeding a friend. Eject mass into an ally (or your own other cell) to transfer size where it's needed. • Baiting. A trail of tasty pellets can lure a greedy player exactly where you want them. Usually somewhere with teeth. • Weaponizing viruses. The most fun reason of all — read on.
Viruses: The Green Spiky Menace Scattered around the map are about 40 green, spiky viruses, each sitting at 100 mass. They don't chase anyone. They don't need to. They just sit there, radiating menace, and let players ruin themselves.
If you're small: viruses are your friends
A small bubble can drift right past (and hide near) a virus without any consequence. Big players can't follow you there safely — which makes the virus field the closest thing this game has to a panic room. When a giant is chasing you, run to the spikes.
If you're big: viruses are a trap Any cell with more than 133 mass that touches a virus eats it — and immediately explodes into up to 16 pieces. You don't lose the mass (you even gain the virus's 100), but you're suddenly a cloud of bite-sized chunks with a long merge timer, and every mid-sized player on your screen just heard the dinner bell. If you're already at the 16-cell cap, you can't explode further, so you simply absorb the virus and keep rolling — the one time being fragmented pays off.
Feeding viruses: artillery for the patient Here's the advanced trick. Eject mass (W) into a virus, and it grows slightly and remembers which direction you fed it from. Feed the same virus 7 pellets, and it fires a brand-new virus out the other side, in exactly that direction, which flies until friction stops it (bouncing off map walls on the way, because physics is funny). Translation: you can shoot a virus at a big player. Line up behind a virus, tap W seven times, and deliver an explosive green gift directly into a giant's smug face. Watching a 5,000-mass bully burst into sixteen confused chunks because of your careful pellet budgeting is, frankly, the best value 126 mass can buy. (There's a cap of 80 viruses on the map, so the arena can't turn into pure cactus.)
You Are Always Slowly Shrinking Every cell above the starting mass of 20 loses about 0.2% of its mass per second. It's tiny, but it never stops. This is the game's polite way of saying: no camping. A giant who parks in a corner will very slowly diet their way back into the food chain. Keep eating, keep moving.
Rounds, Cashing Out, and Where the Money Goes Each room runs on a round timer (20 minutes by default — check the room). Here is everything that can happen to your money, in plain terms: • You leave (or disconnect) mid-round: your current value is paid out to your balance immediately. Voluntarily cashing out while ahead is not cowardice; it's accounting. • The round timer ends: every surviving player is paid their current value, the leaderboard is settled, and a fresh round begins with a fresh map. • You get eaten: your value goes to your killer, your payout is zero, and the result is logged as a Loss. The map's food, however, sends its regards.
Notice what this means strategically: your value only grows by eating players, and only shrinks by being eaten. Mass is your armor and your weapon — value is the treasure it protects. A huge bubble that never ate a player is rich in mass and poor in money; a careful hunter with three kills is carrying four entry-fees' worth of value and should think very hard about when to walk away.
A Few Words of Hard-Won Wisdom • Early game, be boring. Eat pellets, avoid everyone, grow past 35 mass so you have your split and eject options unlocked. • Respect the 25% rule. If you can't confidently tell whether you're big enough to eat someone, you probably aren't — and they may be doing the same math about you. • Split kills win rounds; greedy splits end them. Every split is a bet that nothing bigger is nearby. Look around before you press Space. • Use viruses like furniture. Hide behind them when small, steer enemies into them when clever, and shoot them when you've had a difficult day. • Cash out on purpose. Leaving with double your entry fee is a win that no one can eat. Good luck out there. Stay round, stay hungry, and remember: somewhere on that map, a bubble named after a vegetable is plotting your downfall. — The CRYGODI FunClub Team