A rock wished to fly, and the answer came down from very far up: THOU MAYST.

One button. Your wings beat on a fixed half-a-second cycle, and near the end of each cycle a window opens. Press inside it and the wish holds for one more beat. The tempo never changes. 

Perfect sits in the middle of the window, not at the deadline. Press early or scrape the deadline and you only get good. Every clean beat in a row adds lift, so a long run accelerates hard. One miss scorches your wings. Two in a row and the wish breaks, and the fall is longer the higher you dared.

Every wreck leaves its chips on the summit. The mountain you launch from is built of every rock that wished before you.

150M KM up, past the moon, is the light you asked for. It has been screaming since you left the ground. Rocks were not meant to know why.

Browser, portrait, made for phones. A Mini Jam 217 entry.