Orbitum

Imagine running up a fast-moving escalator while some cad stands at the top rolling bowling balls down towards you.

That's what playing Orbitum feels like. Only more fun and, strangely, far more calming.

Being surrounded by certain death has never been this serene.

Your little star is stuck in a decaying orbit around a black hole, with each rotation bringing you closer to oblivion.

Fortunately you can hop to more distant orbits by tapping the screen. These orbits will also decay, but at least you've bought some time.

And you'll need every split second you can get. Stray too far away from the centre and you'll meet a red barrier, which is just as deadly as the core.

So you just hold position in the middle, right? Right. Except, some celestial joker keeps loosing red triangles into the same orbital corkscrew you're on.

And guess what? Yep - those red triangles are deadly too.

There are also friendly items for you to collect on your abstract treadmill of doom. Green hexagons give you points, while blue squares will give you a helpful item.

This might be a handy shield, or it might be a hyper jump that shoots you up to higher levels. But there the colour scheme shifts and things get even trickier.

Underpinning this precarious action is a metronomic electronica soundtrack, and I often found myself syncing my orbit-switching with its beat.

Orbitum isn't the first super-hard abstract arcade game to hit iOS, of course. It joins the ranks of Super Hexagon, Atomic+, and many many others.

Nor is it the most addictive of this masochistic sub-genre. I didn't feel particularly compelled to keep coming back for more.

And yet I did keep playing. Mainly because, despite the repeated deaths, Orbitum has a mesmerising and almost calming affect.

This isn't the most fun game of its kind, then, but it is one of the most serene.