Fog rolls in, streets go quiet, and John is just stuck at work with two women he mostly knows from awkward breakroom small talk. That’s the whole vibe here: not some badass hero fantasy, but a guy trapped in an office while the world outside rots in a toxic soup. One second he’s checking his phone, the next the signal dies and the city kind of just vanishes behind this white, angry fog that literally burns skin if you get too brave. It’s weirdly intimate, because when everything outside goes to hell the only thing left to play with is people’s nerves, their fears, their bodies, their need to feel close to someone while it all might end tonight or next week or never. The horror parts hit first, and then slowly the romance and the sex leak in around the edges like the fog under a door, not some instant “you are the chosen dick” story. You feel stuck with Kallie and Laura in this poisoned little bubble, watching them crack, get scared, get horny, get angry, sometimes all in the same scene. It’s messy in a good way. Not every line lands, some conversations ramble, and sometimes John acts like a confused Reddit thread, but that’s also kind of believable.

What really caught me is how often the game lets you just say small shit. Little comments that don’t blow up the plot, they just sit there in the back of someone’s mind. You flirt at the wrong moment and Desire ticks up a bit even while Anxiety spikes, so she might still let you slide a hand under her shirt later, but she’ll shake when she kisses you. You’re nice and soft with her after she has a panic attack and Love crawls higher, which makes the eventual creampie scene feel more like “we might die, please stay inside me” than porn hub speedrun. It’s not all sweet, though. There are moments where the sex is raw and selfish, bodies slamming together on some half-clean office couch or cramped storage room, her moaning while the building around you feels like a coffin. Condoms exist mostly as a suggestion, which the characters ignore whenever the tension finally snaps, and the game leans hard into that risk. You can have a romantic talk, then five clicks later you’re pinning her against a window with the toxic fog just beyond the glass, filling her up because you both need proof you are alive. I wish the UI text was a bit bigger on my phone, but anyway, the story quietly shoves you into this fucked up little family, where trust, lust, fear and love keep shifting around like stats you pretend not to care about while you very much do. Sometimes the pacing drags for a scene or two, then suddenly you’re in a pitch-dark hallway, breathing with her, feeling her hand find your crotch because she wants reassurance in the only stupid way she knows. It’s not subtle. It’s also strangely tender. And then out of nowhere the game just drops a line that feels like a shitpost and you remember people made this on actual computers and not in some cursed fog dimension.