An open-world crime sandbox that runs in your browser. Take any car, van or truck you find, run parcels across a signed city against the clock, and collect $GTA0 on the way. No download, no wallet, no sign-up.
Every object you see is simulated. Cars have suspension and weight, a loaded truck leans into corners, and your character rolls when you sprint off a loading dock. Nothing is a video. What you see behind the headline above is the live world, running in this tab right now.
Third-person controls with a capsule collider, so you slide along walls instead of getting stuck on them. Hold Shift to sprint, tap Space to jump. Momentum carries: leave a ramp at speed and you fly, land badly and you roll.
Walk up to any vehicle and press F. The character climbs in and takes the wheel. Every wheel is simulated with its own suspension, so a lowrider leans in corners and a six-wheel truck settles when it stops. Press F again to bail out at speed.
A parcel appears near you and a gold column of light goes up over it. Reach it and a clock starts: get it to the green marker before the clock runs out and you are paid, in $GTA0, scaled to how far you carried it. Miss it and the parcel is gone.
How far varies on purpose. Half the runs are local, a block or two. The rest are drawn from two longer bands, and the longest sends you a hundred and fifty metres across town, which pays about four times the short one because the fee follows the distance. The clock is set between walking pace and running pace, 3.2 and 5.6 metres a second in this city, and it is measured on the straight line, which is always shorter than the way round a building. That is what the cars are for.
Fifteen are parked inside the compound: two lowriders, two delivery trucks, four vans and seven forklifts. Four more are left at the kerb out in the blocks, so a run that ends four streets from home does not end in a walk back. Every one of them is drivable, the forklift is slow and turns on a coin, the truck needs room to stop, and the vehicle you leave stays where you left it.
The last seven are driving. Four follow a circuit two blocks out from the compound and three circle the compound's own block, so the first thing you see on leaving the gate is a car going somewhere. Each holds a lane the whole way round and is held to fourteen metres a second rather than the twenty two the car will do, because a corner every two seconds taken flat out is a demolition derby, not traffic. You can pull out in front of one. It will not stop for you.
Struck coins are scattered around the streets near where you spawn, fourteen at a time, each one carrying the GTAZERO mark on both faces. Touch one on foot or drive through it to add it to your counter. When you have cleared a set, a new set drops. Deliveries pay into the same counter, a great deal faster.
All of it is worth experience too. Levels carry a rank from Runner up to Boss and two per cent more on every delivery fee. Three tasks land each day, the same three for everyone, and they pay experience, score and a share of the earnings ledger. Every part of that is worked out on the server from what your session reports, and every part is capped against the clock, which is why a fabricated session is worth a rounding error rather than a payday.
The board in the corner counts the last seven days, not a lifetime. A lifetime board is a board a new player cannot get onto: the top of it was set by somebody who started a month ago, and no single evening closes that gap. Seven days is a distance you can cover tonight. It ranks on deliveries run rather than cash held, because cash is a counter that only goes up and a week is what you actually did in it, and it is summed from the same daily rows the tasks already write, so there is no reset to miss and no separate table to drift.
There is a ceiling on the day as well: two hundred deliveries, two thousand badges, three hundred kilometres. That is over three hours of nothing but perfect runs, which nobody does and a script does before lunch, and past it the game plays on and stops counting. It matters because the board ranks the last seven days on deliveries, so without a ceiling the way to the top of it is to leave something running.
The caps also read the report against itself. The fixed allowance every report carries belongs to a reporting interval, not to a packet: the game reports every fifteen seconds, and a script firing a hundred times faster now collects nothing for the extra ninety nine, where before each one was worth four badges and two deliveries. And a claim has to agree with the travelling underneath it. A delivery is a drive to a pickup and then to a drop, so deliveries are held against the distance reported alongside them. Numbers that arrive without the moving that produces them are not play, whatever the clock says was possible in the time.
The map in the corner is a photograph of the city taken once as the world loads, from a camera looking straight down with everything that moves hidden, and it turns under you as you drive. After that it costs no 3D work at all. Coins are gold dots on it, the delivery marker is larger and green, and anything past the edge is pinned to the rim as an arrow pointing the way. Parked cars are pale dots and moving ones are orange, because one of those is transport and the other is coming towards you.
Tab opens the whole city instead, north up and still, with the district names printed across it, a scale bar in metres and a dashed line from you to whatever job is running. The clock stops while it is open, because a map you have to read at sixty kilometres an hour is a map you read once and then rebuild the car. It is the same photograph at a different size, so it costs nothing to look at.
Four people walk the block on errands of their own. They pick somewhere to be, walk there, stand a moment and pick again, and when a car comes at them above walking pace they run from it and stay wary for a second and a half after it has passed. Out of your sight they stand still, which lets the physics engine put them to sleep and costs nothing. And they follow you: a walker left more than seventy five metres behind is moved to a spot a little way ahead, out of view, and carries on from there, so the same four people are always on whatever street you are on rather than standing on the one you left.
The city carries 195 signs and only some of them are ours. That is the point of them. An earlier version put 675 boards up and every one said GTAZERO, $GTA0 or gta0.games, which from any pavement meant reading the same wordmark four times without turning your head: not a city with a brand in it, a brand with a street drawn behind it. The eye stops reading signage that repeats.
So the wordmark is rationed. It belongs to the square and to the compound, and everywhere else the signs belong to whoever rents the building: a hotel, a diner open all night, parking, a pharmacy, a laundry, an apartment block, and twelve boards that say what the token is built on. Twenty one designs share one palette and one typeface, so a street reads as one place rather than as a stock photograph of signage.
The square is the junction one block east of the compound, and it is still deliberately too much: four towers signed from pavement to roofline, three bands deep, so that leaving the gate and turning the corner arrives somewhere. Every board is cast onto the building by a ray fired at the wall it belongs to, because the pack's towers step back above their podiums and set their glass behind a frame, and a sign placed off the bounding box hangs a metre in front of the wall it is supposed to be bolted to. Every sign is lit from inside rather than painted on, so it shows the same colours in shadow as in sun, and all of them share one texture and one material.
The sun sits twenty four degrees above the horizon and stays there. That is an hour before sunset, the light this whole genre is graded to, and it is doing three jobs at once: the shadows run long across the streets and give the blocks their depth, the sky turns amber at the horizon on its own because that is what a low sun does to air, and the sign boards stop competing with a white sky. The sun is amber, the sky fill is a little blue, the bounce off the pavement a little warm.
The haze the city fades into is not a colour anyone picked. When the world loads, the sky is rendered once into a small offscreen frame looking square across the sun, the band just above the horizon is averaged, and the fog is set to it, so the ground never ends in a line against a sky of a different colour. On top of that sits a grade, warm highlights, cool shadows, saturation pushed up rather than down because a low-poly city is flat colour and wants more of it, a lifted contrast and a vignette, and a bloom pass that only the lit signs are bright enough to trigger, so a board glows a little past its own edges the way a real one does. Bloom costs about a millisecond and is left off on weaker machines.
The other hour is blue hour, on the map screen, and it is the one the signs were built for. The sun drops to four and a half degrees, the sky goes deep blue overhead with the fire still along the skyline, the sun that is left turns cold and the fill goes with it, and the whole grade cools and tightens. The threshold the bloom catches at comes down to meet the boards, so for the first time the brightest thing in the frame is the city's own light rather than the sky. It is dusk rather than midnight on purpose: there are no street lights in this world, and a true midnight would be a black rectangle with a hundred and ninety five signs floating in it, beautiful in a screenshot and impossible to drive in. Your choice is remembered.
You do not start at eye level. The camera starts high over the square, with the skyline and the signs in frame and the compound below, and falls for five seconds onto your shoulder while the title card fades. Then the controls are yours, and the camera carries on from exactly where the shot left it, so the first frame you steer is not a cut. Any key skips it after the first second. If your system asks for reduced motion there is no shot at all, just the welcome.
The city has parts, and it tells you their names the way the games this is a nod to do: a card in the bottom right when you cross into one. The Compound, where you start. Zero Square, one block east, the junction with the tall signs. The Ring, the road two blocks out that the traffic runs on. Everywhere else is Los Zeros District.
The towers all come from one texture, grey glass and grey concrete, and a skyline of them was a skyline of one colour. Now every building carries its own tint from a palette of ten, terracotta, teal, mustard, sage, cream, a dusty blue, coral, plum, sand and plain white, and the glass stays glass whatever the frame around it is painted. The tint rides inside the model as a colour per vertex and the material multiplies it in, which is why a hundred and fifty coloured towers cost the renderer nothing more than a hundred and fifty grey ones.
117 trees line the streets on the building side of the kerb, spaced so the canopies do not touch, kept off the junctions and out of every tower's footprint. Two blocks west of the compound one whole block is a park: grass to the kerbs, a ring of trees, bushes, flower beds, and no building on it, because a city that is all buildings has nowhere for the eye to rest and green is the one colour the towers cannot give. The ground between everything is a pale warm concrete rather than dark asphalt, so the colour of what stands on it comes forward.
The city runs on a phone. Hold the handset on its side and the left half becomes a stick: it is drawn wherever your thumb lands rather than in a fixed corner, so steering never means finding a control first. The right half is the camera, dragged. Three buttons sit under the other thumb: run, which latches on because a thumb cannot hold a button and steer at the same time, jump, which is the handbrake once you are in a car, and get in or out.
None of it is a second game. Every button presses the same key a keyboard would, through the same input path, which is why the car reads the stick as a throttle without knowing a stick exists. What changes is the furniture: the list of keys goes, and the sound switch and the way home move onto the map screen, because the corner of the screen they used to sit in is where a thumb now rests. The map button is where the minimap was, and pressing it stops the clock.
Until this, nothing in Los Zeros could go wrong. You drove, you delivered, you collected, and the only way to fail was to let a timer run out, which is a city you drive through rather than a city you drive in. Now the street has an opinion. Running somebody over above walking pace, or hitting another car hard enough to matter, is noticed, and the meter at the top of the screen fills. Three of those and one of the seven cars circling the district stops circling and comes after you.
It drives at you and it is not clever about it. Two feelers out of the bonnet keep it off the walls, and when it has spent four seconds moving without getting any closer, or a second wedged against something, it backs up, turns the other way from last time, and tries a different line. That is the whole of its intelligence. Sometimes it comes straight down the street at you and sometimes it loses you two blocks away, which is roughly what you want from something you are supposed to be able to escape.
It is not a new car. There is no police model, no extra spawn and no extra draw call: the nearest circuit driver simply stops following its route and starts following you, which means the car that peels off is already on a road near you because it was driving one. When it is over it goes back to the node it was heading for, mid lap, as though nothing happened.
Keep going and it gets worse: keep hitting people while one is already on you and a second leaves its round as well, which is what makes a chase a decision rather than a state. It stops at two, because seven cars keep two circuits alive and taking a third empties the streets the chase is happening on. On both maps it is a red dot with a ring round it, because a pursuer that looks like the six cars going about their evening cannot be evaded, and evading it is the whole of the mechanic. Two ways out. Put sixty metres between you and it for eight seconds and it loses interest, or let it sit on you for six and it takes the parcel, along with whatever run of deliveries you had going. Speeding is not an offence, because the whole game is a delivery clock and punishing speed would be punishing the only thing there is to do. And the heat drains: twenty seconds of driving properly clears a full meter, which is long enough to feel like getting away with something.
Everybody is in one city, and until now that meant you could see each other and talk. It did not mean you had anything to do with each other. Three things now put you in each other's way, and all three are decided by the server watching where the bodies are rather than by either browser saying what happened.
A parcel can be offered to two people at once. Whoever gets it to the drop first is paid and the other is told, plainly, that somebody beat them to it. The parcel is the same parcel: the first player to accept fixes where it is, and the second is handed those exact coordinates, so it is a race to one box and not two people running errands near each other. The one who defines it cannot plant it on their own feet, because the server knows where they were standing when they asked.
Somebody can take a parcel off you. Stay within twelve metres of a carrier for six seconds and it is yours, along with their drop point and whatever is left of their clock, topped up to at least twenty seconds so that inheriting a run is worth driving rather than a punishment for both of you. It is the same rule the AI chase already used, with a person in the other car. You get eight seconds of grace after picking a parcel up, so camping somebody's pickup marker is not a strategy, and a stolen parcel cannot be stolen again, which is what stops two friends passing one between them all evening. Getting away and delivering anyway pays more than a clean run, because it is harder than one.
And the traffic circuits are a racetrack. Press R and everyone in the city is told. Thirty seconds later whoever joined is racing a lap of a road the AI drivers are already on, past the cars going about their evening. There is no finish line to click and no checkpoint to claim. The server holds the checkpoints and reads your position off the same stream it uses for everything else, so there is no message a modified client could send about a race, because a race sends none.
Playing does not earn you a token per delivery. A day has a pot, a fixed number of tokens the operator publishes and funds, and everyone who played that day divides it between them in proportion to what the server watched them do. A delivery is ten shares, a contested one eighteen, taking a parcel and delivering it fourteen, getting away with one and delivering it twenty two, and a race is forty for first, twenty five for second and fifteen for third. Six hundred shares is the most one person can earn in a day.
That shape is deliberate and it is about risk, not generosity. Because the pot is fixed, the most a day can cost is the pot, whatever happens: ten thousand fake accounts cannot take more out than one player can, they can only take a larger slice of the same number. And because the pot is divided when the day closes, there is a full day between playing and anything being signable, which is the window in which a farm gets noticed. The number in front of you while you play is a share count rather than a token figure, because the token figure genuinely is not known until the day ends, and showing you an amount that moves as other people log in would be worse than showing none.
Being paid needs four things: a verified email, a wallet linked to the account, ten minutes of play the server actually watched, and from the day $GTA0 launches, 1,000 $GTA0 held in that wallet. Shares that fail those tests are removed from the division as well as from the payout, so a farm cannot dilute the people it failed to be.
The claim itself is a transaction you send. The server holds a signing key that cannot move a token: all it can do is sign a statement that your address has earned a total, which a contract checks against its own daily ceiling before it sends anything. Your wallet shows you the call before you approve it, and you pay its gas, which is also why a thousand fake claims cost the treasury nothing. The amount is cumulative rather than per claim, so a signature replayed later pays nothing twice, a claim lost to a failed transaction needs no recovery, and never claiming loses you nothing at all.
The badge on the loading screen, the badge you pick up in the street and the coin share one mark. That is deliberate. The game is where the community meets the token, so the token has to be visible in play, not hidden in a whitepaper.
Two numbers, and they are not the same thing. The counter in the corner of the screen is a score. Separately, deliveries and daily tasks credit an earnings ledger on your account, in whole tokens. Neither of them moves anything on a chain by itself. A GTA0 account (email, code, password) holds both, and you link an EVM wallet by signing one message, which never asks for a transaction, gas or a seed phrase.
$GTA0 is built for Robinhood Chain, an Ethereum layer 2 on the Arbitrum Orbit stack (chain ID 4663, gas paid in ETH). The contract address and supply will be posted on this page and nowhere else, with a link to the explorer. Any contract calling itself GTAZERO or $GTA0 that you did not read here is not ours.
We do not publish price targets, yield promises or countdowns. If you see one with our badge on it, it is a copy. Report it and we will take it down.
Playing is free and needs no wallet. Being paid is a different question: a claim needs a wallet linked to your account, and once the token exists it needs a minimum held in it, currently set at 5,000 $GTA0 out of a billion. The game itself is not behind that door. There is no shop and nothing is sold to you inside it.
Earning is capped, and paid by hand on purpose. Each of the three daily tasks is worth a token, clearing all three is worth two more, and every ten deliveries is worth one, to a ceiling of ten a day. Claiming records a request. A person reads that queue and sends the tokens. Nothing pays out automatically, because the numbers behind a claim are counters a browser reported, and a treasury that pays whatever a browser says it did is a treasury with a hole in it.
Supply is fixed at 1,000,000,000 $GTA0 by the pons launch contract. Nothing can be minted afterwards, and the pool liquidity is locked by the same contract. See the launch.
$GTA0 launches on pons, the launchpad on Robinhood Chain. No presale, no whitelist, no private round: the token exists the moment the launch transaction lands, and everyone buys from the same pool at the same rules.
Every pons token has a fixed supply of 1,000,000,000 and trades against ETH in a Uniswap pool whose liquidity is locked by the launchpad contract from the first trade. There is no bonding curve to migrate from and no moment where liquidity can be pulled. The pool charges a 1 percent fee on trades. Read the pons documentation for the contract details.
In the first two blocks only the creator can buy. After that, during the launch window, one wallet can buy at most 5.5 percent of supply and hold at most 5 percent. That is the launchpad's anti-sniping rule, not ours, and it applies to us too.
A wallet with ETH on Robinhood Chain (chain ID 4663). Bridge from Ethereum or Arbitrum through the Arbitrum portal, connect the wallet on ponsfamily.com, open the $GTA0 page linked on this site, and buy. Gas is paid in ETH. The game itself never needs any of this.
$GTA0 is a community token around a browser game. It has no revenue behind it and no promise of any return. Its price can go to zero. Only the addresses on the official links page are ours, and we never message you first.
Every badge picked up by a signed-in player lands on this board. Street name, score, and whether a wallet is linked. Guests are not listed, so if you want your name here, make an account first.
Click the world once to lock the mouse, press Esc to release it. The same keys drive every vehicle, from the forklift to the truck.
| Action | Keys |
|---|---|
| Move, steer, throttle | WASD |
| Sprint | Shift |
| Jump | Space |
| Enter or leave a vehicle | ForG |
| Handbrake | Space |
| Look around | Mouse |
| The full map, and the hour | Tab |
| Sound on or off | M |
| On a phone | Thumbstickandthree buttons |
| Respawn | Shift+R |
| Free camera | Shift+C |
The renderer is three.js and the physics is cannon.js, both running in WebGL inside the page. There is no client and no launcher. The first visit pulls the city, your character and the cars once. The city is the large one: eleven megabytes of model that arrive as seven, because every file is compressed once when the build runs, at brotli's slowest and best setting, instead of being compressed again by the server on the way out to each player. The server had been doing the second thing, and its answer was nine megabytes. Your browser keeps all of it after that.
If it does not arrive, the screen says so rather than sitting there. A file that fails is tried once more with a fresh request, because whatever a proxy handed over the first time is what it will hand over again, and a connection that goes quiet for forty seconds while a file is still coming counts as failed too. Then the bar is replaced by which file stopped, why that is almost always the connection, and a button. A frozen progress bar and a broken game look identical from the outside, and only one of them is worth waiting through.
The wait itself is the character you just chose, at the size a poster would print them, next to the progress and one true line at a time about the city you are about to be dropped into. Which cars are driving, what the traffic will and will not do for you, where the trees are. None of it is a promise about the game, because all of it is something you can check a minute after it finishes.
Every sound is built in the page out of oscillators and filtered noise. The engine note climbs with how far through its gear the car is, so it falls on every upshift and climbs again, which is the part that makes it read as an engine rather than a siren. Footsteps fire on ground covered rather than off the animation, so they stay in step at any speed. Nothing is downloaded and nothing plays until you touch the page.
Los Zeros is 5,804 placed objects, the walled compound on its paved lot, six blocks of streets around it, 195 signs, 117 trees and a park, welded down to 1,013 meshes sharing seven materials rather than six thousand things to draw one at a time. The welding is done per square of ground, not for the city as a whole, so the camera can skip what is behind it: standing at the spawn and turning through four directions, a frame averages 307 draw calls and 750,000 triangles on screen out of 1.28 million in the scene. Physics never touches that mesh at all. It sees 2,023 boxes and 86 shaped meshes for the stairs and doorways, grouped into 242 static bodies, because the cost of a physics body is paid every step whether or not anything moves. The 26 cars are the only bodies that ever do, and seven of them are doing it all the time.
Physics runs at a fixed rate independent of your frame rate, so a car behaves the same on a laptop as on a gaming PC. Rendering adapts to your screen, and to the machine: a browser reporting four cores or a display packing three device pixels into one is served a smaller shadow map, no bloom and no supersampling, which is the difference between a phone that runs this and a phone that heats up. Chrome, Edge and Firefox are supported, and so are phones.
The guess is only a guess, so the game checks it. Two seconds of frames are timed, logic and drawing separately from the wait for the screen, and if the median is over twenty two milliseconds one thing is given up: the bloom first, then supersampling, then edge smoothing, then shadows, three seconds apart and never more than one at a time. It says which one it dropped, because a picture that quietly gets worse reads as a fault and the same picture with a line under it reads as the game keeping its footing. It does not turn them back on: a setting that returns every time the street clears is a picture that changes every few seconds.
Your GTA0 account lives on our server behind an email code and a password hashed with scrypt. A wallet is linked by signing a plain text challenge with MetaMask or any injected EVM wallet, and the site offers to switch the wallet to Robinhood Chain. We store the address, never a key, and the server checks the signature before it trusts the address.
The character, vehicle and camera systems are built on Sketchbook by swift502, released under the MIT licence. The city, the coin system and everything GTAZERO are ours. The source stays readable, so what you play is what you can inspect.
Pick a name and a face, then step out onto the street. Create a GTA0 account if you want your score and wallet to follow you, or play as a guest. Either way it takes about as long as the map takes to load.