It was the summer of 1981 in Portland, Oregon, and arcade gaming was in its golden age. Titles like Space Invaders, Defender, and Pac-Man had kids turning up couches and busting piggy banks in search of just one more quarter. A new game called Polybius had just hit the arcade and become an instant sensation. Little did the gamers know that their rabid enthusiasm would soon take a dark and legendary turn.
Polybius appeared without fanfare, which was unusual for a game of its advanced graphics and gameplay. The game’s maker, Sinneslochen (sense-delete in German), was also a mystery and had no other known titles. The gameplay was fast-paced and hypnotic, with geometric shapes and strobing lights. One player described it as being similar to Tempest, though far more intense.
Almost immediately, the game achieved fanatical popularity, often inspiring arguments, and fights over whose quarter was first in line. Reports of insomnia, migraines, and even amnesia were common after prolonged exposure to the game. One gamer allegedly passed out during an epic 18-hour session. Another became disoriented by the strobing lights and suffered a seizure. Then, the rumors began.

Regulars at the arcade began witnessing men in black suits servicing the game. They charted the high scores and took notes on who made them. Disturbingly, they extracted bizarre components behind the coin slot panel, utterly alien to typical video game tech. Some began to speculate that Polybius was a government shadow project involving mind control or perhaps something even more sinister.
Then, as the rumors reached a fevered pitch, Polybius suddenly and inexplicably vanished from Portland’s arcades and amusement halls, never to return.
Eventually, the rumors faded, and kids went back to Pac-Man and Donkey Kong, forgetting all about Sinneslochen’s strange game. That is, until nearly 20 years later, when a user on coinop.com, a vintage gamer site, made a post about it, elevating the mystery to mythic status. His post was innocuous enough. He just wanted to know if anyone remembered the game or if he could find a version to play. His query sent an army of internet sleuths down the rabbit hole.
And what did they discover? Polybius nor Sinneslochen ever existed.
No copyright has ever been registered, and no record of the company Sinneslochen has ever existed, despite the insistence of those who claim to have played the game. Some have noted that the Polybius logo is derivative of the font used by Williams gaming consoles, suggesting somehow that they could have been involved. However, the provenance of this logo cannot be adequately traced, as it appeared on the internet around the same time as the coinop.com post.

The US Government has conducted far stranger psyops projects than the one suggested in the Polybius story. Mind control and psychic research programs such as Project Artichoke, MK Ultra, and the Stargate Project are well-documented truths. The idea that the government would experiment with something like video games is not only plausible but frighteningly likely. However, there is no credible information to suggest that they are responsible for Polybius. Which is exactly how they like it, right?
Skeptics categorize Polybius’s story as an urban myth. Many believe that the original post on coinop.com was just a tactic employed by the site owner to generate traffic. They cite the name Sinneslochen, which does not translate correctly and sounds like a compound word that a non-German-speaking person might come up with using an English-to-German dictionary. The name Polybius is also intriguing. Polybius was a Greek historian from Arcadia, known for ciphers and cryptology.
However, some interesting corroborations can be made. The FBI was indeed surveilling Arcades in Portland during the summer of 1981. Their intent was to break up a money laundering scheme for an illegal gambling ring. Also, one gamer was hospitalized after suffering a seizure while playing video games in a Portland arcade. The game was Tempest. Likewise, another gamer did, in fact, pass out during a 28-hour marathon gaming session in the same arcade. It was a televised effort to break the world record for playing Asteroids.
Did Polybius ever exist? Was it a government coverup or maybe another Mandela effect? It’s probably too late to know for sure. Even if someone came forward to admit the hoax, chances are that no one would believe them.
Jason Roberts is a Seattle-based author noted for his acclaimed western horror series The Dead Wind Trilogy as well as other works of cosmic horror infused with historical fiction. His web-based series, Dark Distractions, examines paranormal mysteries, unexplained phenomena, and all things strange.