Tentrix

Three pieces arrive at a time in Tentrix, and the whole puzzle lives inside that constraint: none of them rotate, so the shape you see is the shape you must fit somewhere on the 10×10 board. Filled rows and columns clear; the board never scrolls or speeds up. All pressure comes from your own accumulating clutter. That calm surface hides an unforgiving economy. Placing greedily for a quick clear regularly walls off the corner a later L-piece needs — the game punishes tempo, not slowness. Because a round only ends when nothing fits, every placement is really a bet on which shapes you can afford to be dealt next. Keeping one full edge column open as a relief valve beats farming the center for points. Hidden insight: hunt for placements that clear a row and a column together — single clears feed the clutter that ends runs, while cross-clears reset the board's geometry.