War in this game doesn’t feel clean at all. Everything is humming, buzzing, a little wrong, like the whole space station is breathing slow and wet around you. You’re tossed into Alexis’ head right after this lunar mess, and the world around him is all hard metal, cold corridors, alarms that whine in the background while the camera just lingers too long on another guy’s neck, his jaw, the way sweat slides down under the collar of a uniform that’s clearly one size too tight on purpose. It’s funny, because the story pretends to care about strategy meetings and patrol routes and alien intel, but the real action is in those tiny pauses when Osman leans a bit too close, when Evan’s voice drops for no reason, when Leon looks like he wants to punch a wall or kiss it. There’s this low constant echo in the sound design, just a little reverb on footsteps and doors, and somehow it makes every quiet conversation feel like it’s happening in a hidden corner where you’re not supposed to be, but you stay, because of course you stay.

First time you get Alexis alone in the barracks, the game lets you click around useless shit, like his datapad, the locker, the stupid little plant that somehow survived an alien invasion. I spent way too long poking that plant. It wiggles in this pathetic way and doesn’t matter at all, but I kept expecting it to do something horny. It never does. Anyway, the real heat starts when Osman shows up with that lazy grin and sits on the edge of the bed, and the music just drops to this slow, pulsing beat that feels like it’s syncing with your pulse… or lower. There’s no silly fade out when things get explicit. You actually hear belts, zippers, the soft thud of bodies against the mattress, the little breath Alexis sucks in when fingers go somewhere new. The choices here aren’t explained much. You get lines like “Push him further” or “Hold back” and you’re just thrown into it. Sometimes the “gentle” option leads to Alexis getting his throat fucked rough, and the “aggressive” one just turns into a desperate cuddle against a bulkhead after a mission. That messy, not-quite-logical reaction of the game feels actually honest, like sex after trauma isn’t neat or predictable, it’s all over the place.

The sci-fi side is weirdly intimate too. You’re on this ship in the middle of nowhere, “protecting mankind”, but really you’re just watching horny soldiers try to forget everything for a while. A briefing room scene with Leon starts as a boring report about alien movements, then your choice to “reassure him” ends with his hand on your throat, pushing you back into the commander’s chair, the big holographic map of the war flickering calmly while he grinds against you, still half in uniform, half undone, like the galaxy can wait while he ruts. Later with Evan, you’re supposed to be calibrating some scanner, but the game keeps letting your eyes drift down to his crotch, his tailbone, the hint of muscle under the suit. The interface even tilts a bit, like Alexis is losing focus. There’s this one shot where the window shows the dark of space, a slow blue flare of some distant thing, and in front of it you just see their silhouettes, one guy on his knees, the other bracing against the console, sounds of sloppy head mixing with the quiet hum of the ship. It’s hot, but also kind of sad, and then suddenly it’s funny again because a random alert pops and you both have to scramble, dripping, to act like nothing happened. It’s clumsy, horny, sometimes too slow, sometimes it rushes you right into a scene where you’re pressed between two bodies and a cold wall, and none of it feels polished. Which is exactly why it sticks in your mind when you close the browser and realize you still hear that low ship hum in your ears, together with the little broken noises Alexis makes when someone finally pushes him way past what he thought he wanted.