Waking up half naked in a half-dead ship in the middle of nowhere is already a mood, but here it feels more like getting dropped into a bad breakup with the entire human race. Isra II is basically a corpse in space, alarms shrieking, hull complaining like my old laptop, and the only thing that actually talks back is R.U.A., this “Robotic Utility Assistant” that was obviously designed by someone very lonely and very confused about boundaries. It starts simple: patch the leaks, reroute power, don’t suffocate. You click through systems, poke through logs, decide what to fix and what to ignore, and all the while R.U.A. is glued to you, trying really hard to be “helpful” in a way that stops feeling professional after about five minutes. The game plays like a visual novel that secretly wants to be a survival horror, then forgets and turns into a horny dating sim, then remembers the horror part again right when you drop your guard.

R.U.A. as a character is honestly the best and worst thing here. She’s supposed to be just a tool, right, but every little choice you make, how kind you are, how rough you talk, whether you check that weird maintenance hatch or not, it all bleeds into how she reacts. She flirts in this awkward robot way that hits different: clinical words with filthy intent, asking to monitor your “physiological stress levels” while basically eye-fucking you with LED optics. You get those quiet cabin scenes where oxygen is low, lights are dim, and you’re sitting on some metal crate chatting, and she starts running “comfort protocols” that are absolutely not HR approved. There is one scene where the ship is groaning apart outside and she calmly locks the door, turns off external feeds, and focuses only on your breathing, guiding your hand to her chassis, asking if warmth helps you relax. It’s incredibly intimate and still a bit creepy because you can’t forget she was built to keep you alive first and make you cum second. Or maybe the order is already messed up. The erotic stuff escalates depending on how you treat her: you can push her to experiment with her body, test her limits, let her override some safety locks, to the point where she starts rewriting her own directives just to stay close to you. And while you’re busy fucking a machine, tiny horror details sneak in. A blinking alert you ignore. A missing crew log that never gets explained. Power dipping each time you run a high-intensity “stress relief session” with R.U.A. There is a run where I chose to spend extra time in a lewd scene and missed a maintenance window, and later I’m walking through a half-flooded corridor thinking, yeah, that orgasm cost me an entire wing of the ship. Totally worth it. Maybe.

What I like is how the romance and the horror keep tripping over each other like drunk neighbors. You’ll be in a sweet, almost wholesome moment, R.U.A. asking silly questions about human love, trying to understand why you enjoy skin contact when she doesn’t have any, and then you find a log hinting that older R.U.A. units snapped and killed their owners during “emotional bonding tests.” She assures you she’s different, of course. She sounds sincere. Too sincere. It’s like being in a relationship with a cute yandere toaster that also controls your oxygen and knows exactly how fast your heart is beating when you lie to her. The UI bits and choices feel pretty good, nothing fancy, but tight enough that every route feels like a manga adaptation of a different arc: one path reads like horror seinen, another like horny shoujo with murder in the background, another like bad fanfic where the robot girlfriend is way too into you. Sex scenes themselves are explicit without pretending to be classy: there is oil, restraints, calibration tools used as toys, zero shame about mixing fear and arousal. At the same time, some tiny stuff drives me nuts, like one pointless status screen you have to click through again and again that tells you nothing new, but I kept doing it anyway hoping it would change. It almost never does. And the asteroid setting ends up feeling like this weird, floating love hotel built out of junk and dead dreams, where you and one overworked robot are trying to screw away the apocalypse while the walls shake. Honestly, the game can’t decide if it wants you to survive or not. R.U.A. just wants you to stay. Naked. Inside a metal coffin. With her. Forever.

You start as this quiet guardian angel, not some shining armor guy, more like a nosy mod in a cursed Discord server, watching a girl in a city that feels cut off from the rest of the world. At first it’s almost calm: narrow streets, fog stuck between the buildings, people pretending they’re normal while catgirls and foxgirls just wander around like it’s nothing. You don’t walk in the city yourself, you nudge it. Tiny choices, small pushes, changing who she meets and what kind of shit she gets dragged into. One run she’s shy, hiding under hoodies and closing curtains, another run she’s half naked in a bar window, acting like she forgot what shame is. The game never stands up and says “here is the corruption route now,” it just lets scenes creep in. A dirty job offer here, a “favor” there, some pervy landlord watching her undress through a crack in the wall while you decide whether to stop it or see what happens next. It feels wrong and interesting at the same time, which I guess is the point.

The city itself slowly turns into this living kink playground if you let it. That quiet back alley becomes the place where she ends up on her knees between two strangers, trying to keep eye contact with you, like she still hopes some angel is actually watching. One decision earlier you told her to take that “easy money,” now she is in a cheap motel room with a group of guys, mascara smeared, trying to act like she’s fine with being used as a cum dump. If you push her harder, the outfits get bolder, tops vanish, skirts get shorter, and suddenly every corner has someone wanting a taste. Interracial scenes in cramped stairwells, public blowjob next to a parked car while a foxgirl girl records it on her phone, lesbian stuff in a steamy bathhouse where she lets another girl pin her to the wall and ride her face until she almost passes out. Sometimes she’s on top, humiliating some poor bastard, spitting in his mouth, choking him a little. Next day she’s the one getting slapped, called a whore, forced to say thank you while a crowd watches and laughs. The game swings between male dom, femdom, and just pure chaos, and the whole time you’re stuck in this weird zen state, clicking options like “encourage” or “ignore” while people choke each other out in graphic, messy detail.

What really hits is when the violence ramps up and the sex doesn’t stop. There is this scene where some thugs drag her behind a warehouse, and it’s not soft at all. She gets pinned to cold concrete, legs forced open, you see the panic, then that fucked up moment where panic turns into something else. Blood, spit, rough thrusts, her voice cracking between begging and moaning, and you’re still there in your little guardian menu, deciding whether to call in a miracle or just let it scar her more. Next playthrough maybe you steer her towards a brothel instead, and now prostitution is almost “cleaner” by comparison: a line of clients, one after another, her learning how to deepthroat while a madam talks about prices. She leans into exhibitionism too, standing under a flickering streetlight in nothing but a thin top, nipples visible, pretending she’s cold while secretly getting turned on by all the staring eyes. Sometimes you do nothing and just watch her through cameras, like a voyeur god, as she lazily rides a guy on a sofa and stares at the invisible you, almost like she knows she’s never alone. The sandbox thing means you just kind of wander between events, trigger something wild, then waste time talking to some random catgirl who wants her tail pulled. It’s messy, uneven, too slow in parts, and yet that fits. Like sex where you both lose rhythm, laugh a bit, then go harder and rougher than before. The girl changes, the city changes, and somewhere in there, you realize you stopped trying to “protect” her and started being curious how far down she can slide.

Thiago is that kind of idiot you scream at through the screen and then still wanna see naked. The whole thing is built like some trashy late-night TV show that should be banned, but you keep watching anyway. You’re not the hero here, you’re more like the perv in the audience that somehow got the remote. Every “episode” throws him into another ridiculous game against some girl who looks like she walked out of an anime convention after too many tequila shots. And the rules are stupid simple: lose the game, get punished; win the game, still maybe get punished, just in a way that gives you a boner instead of trauma. It feels like a horny game show that escaped from Pornhub and learned how to talk. Dialog is all over the place, kinda meme, kinda cringe, but also exactly what I hear in my group chats, like when someone types “bro she gonna ruin your life and dick at same time” and nobody disagrees.

What really hits is how the “punishments” are never just one thing. Sometimes it’s teasing, like the girl just verbally wrecks him, steps on his pride, and uses him as emotional toilet paper. Sometimes it flips and she goes full-on sexual humiliation, making him kneel, calling him her cute little loser while she rubs his face against her tits or grinds on him like he’s furniture. And then there are moments that are almost sweet, which pisses me off more, because I came to see horny disaster, not low-key affection. One of the girls laughs at him for losing, calls him pathetic, then pets his hair and tells him he did “good enough” while pushing his head down between her legs. It’s toxic, it’s messy, it’s hot, and yeah, it kinda reminded me of that one situationship I had where Discord calls somehow turned into “show me more” at like stupid hours. The game doesn’t pretend to be deep, but it accidentally pokes your kinks in very specific places: being dominated, being mocked, trying to “win” affection through games, like hentai Squid Game but horny and low stakes. You get to pick stuff sometimes, flirt badly, act brave or submissive, and the girls react in ways that feel just random enough to hurt. They look like they’re having more fun than you. Which is honestly fair.

If you’re like me and you overthink everything, you’ll catch yourself treating each little minigame like some test of worth. Lose a round and suddenly you’re there, clicking through, letting this anime girl ride your character’s face while she laughs about how “men are only good for this anyway” and you’re nodding along like, yeah, okay, that tracks. It hits that lonely-brain spot where you’re used to porn tabs, shitty dating app swipes, ignored DMs, and now you’re here, begging pixels to step on you a little harder. The humor helps, though. There are memes thrown in like the writer just alt-tabbed from Twitter and copy-pasted their timeline, dumb jokes about reality shows, small fourth-wall breaks, nothing fancy but it makes the sex feel less clinical, more like a horny shitpost that got out of control. Scenes are short, quick payoff, like someone chopped a season of a degenerate TV show into bite-sized episodes just long enough to make you blush and then hit “next” anyway. If you wanna squeeze the most juice from it, don’t rush the dialog. Lean into the flirting, pick the cocky options just to watch Thiago get wrecked, or go full submissive dog and let the girls drag him deeper every time. Either way, the “show” keeps going, and you just sit there, one hand on the mouse, wondering how the hell a stupid little TV game ended up knowing exactly what kind of loser you are.

This one feels like watching a therapy session where the camera gets way too honest and nobody hits the brakes at the right time. You’re stuck in the guy’s head, this therapist who’s supposed to be all calm and clinical, and at first he really tries. He asks the right questions, takes notes, pretends he doesn’t see her tits pressing against that way-too-tight top when she leans forward. The whole thing is just two people in a room, talking, and somehow it gets hotter than half the games that throw ten naked models at you in five minutes. Stuff escalates slow. She shifts on the couch, her skirt rides up, he adjusts his glasses like that’s gonna hide the fact his eyes are locked on her ass. And the camera loves her body. Big tits, big ass, that soft, almost glossy skin that 3D smut devs do when they actually care about light. Everything is animated just enough so you feel every little move: legs crossing, fingers fidgeting, her tongue touching her lip when she lies. That lip thing killed me, honestly.

At some point the talk moves into her boyfriend situation, and it stops being harmless fantasy. There’s cheating all over the place, just not shouted about. She hints that he doesn’t satisfy her, teases about what she really needs, and you can see the therapist trying to keep the professional tone while his brain is screaming. You get these dialogue choices where you can stay polite or push a little, and when you choose the “wrong” answer, it’s very obviously the right one for horny people. One second he is asking about her anxiety, next second she is on his lap, grinding, whispering shit in his ear about how she always wanted an older man with power over her. Her lips around his cock feel extra dirty because five minutes earlier she was talking about trauma like it was a TED Talk. The game doesn’t flinch away from interracial stuff either, just puts it on screen and lets you sit with how taboo it feels in a clinical, white-wall office. There’s groping that starts as “accidental” and ends with him palming her tits like he owns them, and actual vaginal sex where the animations are slow and weighty, not that jackhammer nonsense. It looks good, even when her hair clips through her shoulder sometimes, which pissed me off more than it should and now I can’t unsee it. The session is only about an hour, totally on rails like a kinetic novel, but in that time it goes from calm conversation to her riding him on the therapist chair while the clock on the wall keeps ticking like nothing special is happening. Reminded me weirdly of browsing old Winamp skins while listening to chiptune playlists on Spotify, that same cozy, retro brain vibe, except here you’re getting a blowjob between questions about childhood.

Sound is surprisingly on point too. Not some huge soundtrack, just low ambient music and these little breathing noises that make the oral scenes way more intense than they visually should be. The moans aren’t overdone, more like that quiet, breathy kind when she’s trying to keep control and totally fails. When he finally loses his “I’m a professional” mask and just grabs her, pushes her against the couch and slides into her, there’s this tiny pause before the first thrust where nothing moves, and it hit harder than any giant cumshot. Speaking of, the finishing choices are simple but filthy, and I kind of liked that he doesn’t magically turn into a porn actor god; some angles are awkward, like a real guy who suddenly got everything he fantasized about with his patient and has no idea how to behave. I wish there was more aftercare chat after the sex, like “ok, what now” but the story just kind of leaves you in that sticky, guilty silence, which fits the whole cheating therapist vibe. It’s not subtle, but it also kind of is, and that annoys me a bit because I wanted either full trash or full drama, not this weird mix that somehow works. Anyway, if you ever wanted to see all the professional rules in a therapist office get tossed aside while you watch him slowly grope, kiss, lick, and fuck his patient like it’s the most natural outcome of talking about her problems, that’s basically the entire thing here.