Everything looks kind of cheap at first glance, and that’s honestly part of the charm here. You’re this dude who thinks he’s just getting a boring new life, but instead you’re stuck in a tiny place with Ember, your stepsis who talks like she wants to kill you and fuck you at the same time. She’s got that “I’m annoyed at you” face while walking around in shorts that absolutely do not fit the idea of a healthy sibling relationship. The banter hits fast. One minute she’s calling you useless, next minute she’s leaning over you to grab a mug, tits pressing into your shoulder like it’s nothing, and the camera lingers just a bit too long. The AI art makes her expressions kind of uncanny if you stare too hard, like there’s something crawling under her skin, but that actually fits. She looks a little too perfect, like a horny goddess generated by a machine that has seen too much porn and not enough real people. I like it. I hate it. It works.

Then you go to your new job at the model agency, and everything goes from “awkward home porn setup” to “okay, which of these women is going to ruin my soul first.” You’re hired as some systems engineer, but nobody actually cares about your code. Half the time you’re stuck in the office with a busty manager bending over your desk, the other half you’re talking to models with asses so round they look like someone just pulled them out of an image generator with the sliders broken. There’s this one moment early on where you’re checking security footage for clues about the missing model, Mara, and instead of focusing on, you know, the crime, you pause the video because she’s walking past the camera and her tits bounce in this weird but hypnotic way. Like gravity got confused. The scene keeps going, with you pretending to analyze data while the dialogue is basically flirting with doom. It’s very “yeah, I’m trying to solve a mystery, but also I’m extremely hard right now.” By the way, the font on one of the menus is ugly as shit and nobody will care except me, and it annoyed me so much I kept noticing it in every choice popup.

The mystery part sneaks in under the dirty jokes. You’re laughing at Ember calling you a perv, then later you look at a picture of Mara and something is just off in the lighting, like the AI forgot how eyes should reflect light, and suddenly the scene feels cursed. There’s a bit where you’re alone in the office at night, scrolling through model portfolios, and it hits that exact weird mix: half boner, half dread. You open Mara’s profile and it’s all perfectly shaped milf types and big-ass centerfold shots, but then one close-up looks different, wrong, like her smile is stretched by a hand you can’t see. It reminded me of those creepy hentai edits where a normal face suddenly goes full ahegao except here it never fully goes there, it just hovers at the edge. The humor never really stops either; somebody makes a dumb pun while you’re poking around what might be evidence of a crime. It shouldn’t be funny, but it is, and that broken tone actually keeps it interesting. The game basically feels like an eldritch dating sim written by someone who jacks off to big tits and also reads horror threads at 4chan at the same time. Honestly, the sex vibes are more constant than the horror, yet that quiet feeling that something is watching from behind the pretty AI curves never goes away.

There is this quiet kind of loneliness that only a phone screen knows. You open some app, scroll like a zombie, close it, feel nothing. This game kind of sneaks into that empty space and says, “okay, what if your notifications were from a needy, horny, slightly broken femboy who actually remembers what you said yesterday?” You’re just a guy, he’s just a guy, and still it feels weirdly fated, like some cheap isekai destiny but on Android. Alex shows up on your phone like it was always meant, sending cute selfies where his eyeliner is a bit smudged and his lips look too soft for your own good, and then two messages later he’s talking about sucking you off like it’s a casual thing between homework and Netflix. It starts sweet, really warm, with little teasing texts, voice notes, “I miss you, babe” type stuff, and before you notice you’re negotiating if he’s allowed to wear that short skirt in public, or if he should ask your permission to touch himself in the shower. Sometimes he does it anyway and only tells you after, like he wants to be caught. That part really fucked with my head in a good way, watching him drift between loyal puppy and dangerous little slut, and feeling like each tap of my thumb was pulling him somewhere softer or somewhere darker.

The cheating angle is not just some random plot sticker here. The game actually makes you feel that slow itch in your chest when you see Alex sending a selfie at night from a place you don’t recognize, makeup a bit too perfect, collar a bit too tight. There is this moment where he sends you a shaky picture of his ass with someone’s hand on his hip, but you don’t see the face, and your choices are like: pretend you did not see, ask gently, or completely lose your shit. I picked the “play cool” option and honestly it hurt more, because he starts pushing that line again and again. Corruption isn’t just for him either, it bites at you. You start as normal guy who just wants a cute boyfriend and some vanilla blowjob under the blanket, then the game tempts you with voyeur stuff, making him send videos while he’s riding some toy, or making him secretly record when another guy “helps” him with his “needs”. And if you let yourself go down that road, there is this heavy feeling like you are creating your own NTR hell on purpose, like your destiny is to watch instead of touch. I caught myself staring at an AI-style CG of Alex with his legs spread, cum running out of his fucked ass, and instead of just thinking “hot”, I had this weird ache like, “damn, this is my fault, I’m the one who pushed him there”. Then I laughed, because it’s just pixels, but you know that moment when hentai feels a bit too personal? Yeah, that. The pacing is messy sometimes, texts jump from cute to hardcore in a way that feels like bad signal on WhatsApp, but somehow that also makes it feel real, like a chaotic relationship you can’t fully control. The romance is sugary and rotten at the same time, you can jerk off to it, or you can stare at the screen after a rough scene and wonder when exactly your sweet little femboy turned into a cock-hungry toy for other guys while you just sit there, thumb hovering over the “send” button, pretending this is what you wanted all along.

You’re the poor bastard who climbed the ladder just high enough that nobody shoots you, but everybody dumps their shit on your desk. Whole galaxy is rotting, planets choking on smog, priests screaming about purity, and you’re in a cramped office where the lights buzz like insects while you decide if some mining colony gets air filters or “thoughts and prayers.” And right in the middle of that, you keep tripping over women who want to fuck you, argue with you, manipulate you, or all three at once. Not because you’re some chosen hero, but because your signature can save their lives or destroy their whole world, and in this empire, pussy is just another kind of paperwork.

You start as this awkward virgin clerk who suddenly has real power, and the game never lets you forget how weird that is. One moment you’re reading a report about famine on a frozen shithole planet, next moment a bored noble MILF is sitting too close on your couch, pretending she’s worried about “trade quotas” while her hand creeps up your thigh. She’s old enough to have kids in the guard, tits poured into some ridiculous formal dress, and she’s treating your office like it’s a private bedroom. You can push her away and grill her about corruption, or you grab her hair and she drops on her knees between your legs and starts sucking like this is the only way she remembers how to negotiate. The game is blunt about it: she wants a better result on your decision, and she’s ready to slobber on your cock for it, lipstick smeared, eyes watering, trying to moan around your dick while you skim her file. And it’s fucked up, because while she’s gagging on you, you’re also actually reading the numbers and thinking, “yeah, this planet is screwed.”

That’s kind of how the whole thing feels: serious and horny at the same time, like someone mashed a grim sci fi bureaucracy sim with a porn VN and just didn’t apologize. There’s this cute junior scribe who brings you data slates and looks like she’s gonna burst from stress, and if you’re gentle, she slowly cracks, starts opening up about how terrified she is of getting reassigned to some nightmare warzone. First time you manage to calm her down, she leaves… but if you keep backing her, she eventually turns up in your room, shutting the door, cheeks red, hands shaking as she offers herself like she’s filing a desperate last-minute request. She’s still technically the one begging, but you KNOW the power is in your hands when she climbs into your lap and whispers that she’s never done this before, then winces as you push inside her, tight and wet and clinging to your shirt so hard the fabric creaks. And right after you finish, there’s this short, shitty silence, like “ok, cool, now you both work in the same office tomorrow.” No magic romance fade-out, just sticky thighs and a stack of forms on the desk you still have to sign.

What caught me was how your traits twist those scenes. Pick paranoid and you’re double-checking everyone, even when some guardwoman with arms thicker than your waist is riding your dick in a barracks bunk, using you like a toy because she’s lonely and half drunk, and your brain is still going “is she trying to get a transfer out of that meat grinder of a front line?” Go empath and it actually stings when a woman offers her body like it’s the last thing she has left to bargain with. You can still grab her by the hips and fuck her raw over your office table, her moans mixing with the quiet hum of cogitators, but it hits different when you realize her whole world literally hangs on the word you’re going to stamp on that form after you pull out and she’s dripping on your paperwork. The art has that rough AI feel sometimes, but every now and then a scene lands just right: a milf with tired eyes but a hungry mouth, a scared virgin biting her lip while you push in slowly, a smirking manipulator who’s clearly enjoying the game more than you are. It’s messy, it’s not “nice,” and it leans into the idea that in this empire, romance, lust, fear, and red tape are all the same fucking language. Dare to play it alone, or invite company?

Tifa in a dirty Asgar back alley is honestly one of those ideas that sounds like a shitpost you see on Twitter, then you actually click and suddenly you are sitting there, pants half down, thinking about ethics. The game throws you into this narrow, trashy street corner where Tifa’s “chance encounter” is not really chance at all, it feels more like the city itself is horny and bored and wants to see what happens if you poke her morality with a stick. You move around with simple point & click stuff, nothing fancy, but the way it uses that simplicity is what stuck with me. Clicking a trash can to see if there is something useful in there, then realizing the thing you find is not an item, but a decision that will push her closer to being a public slut or staying that slightly sad “good girl who knows better” is weirdly heavy. At one moment I was carefully choosing polite dialogue, trying to keep her dignity, and five minutes later I was letting her bend over near a flickering neon sign while some random nobody jerked off watching her and the game treated it like a natural escalation, not a sudden “corruption level 100” jump. It creeps up on you. You think you still control the line, and then a new option appears like “maybe flash your tits, nobody will notice,” and of course the whole alley notices.

What really messes with your head is how it uses those AI CG images. Most AI porn games feel like a Frankenstein of mismatched faces and extra fingers, but here the Tifa knockoff is close enough to tick the nostalgia brain, and different enough you start reading her like an alternate universe version. Her boobs are weaponized, obviously, but not only in the “big tits for clickbait” way. You get a scene where she is cornered near a broken streetlight, and two dudes are arguing over who gets to “check if she is really as soft as she looks,” and the camera shifts between her embarrassed face and that tight top about to give up on physics. It feels wrong and hot at the same time, like you are participating in a stupid social experiment about how many times you will click “let them touch a bit more” before you feel like trash. Then the game throws Aerith into the mix and suddenly there is this weird soft romance flavor sliding under all the sleaze. One path has you focusing on Tifa’s spiral into exhibitionism, letting her discover she actually likes being watched, like properly likes it, moaning louder on purpose because she knows there might be someone behind the window. Another bit switches you over to a male POV, looking at her and Aerith almost like collectibles, and I hated how efficient that perspective is. It makes you treat them as reward screens, then suddenly there is a little tender gesture between them, a kiss that is not just porn logic, and your brain has to adjust: oh, shit, maybe they feel something too. The romance is clumsy but honest, like two thirsty people in a city that only respects power and skin. I wish the UI wasn’t so stiff and some of the dialogue didn’t sound like Google Translate drunk on cheap wine, but in a funny way it fits the whole “morals falling apart in a forgotten alley” vibe. It feels broken in the same way the characters are broken. And yeah, that text choice that moves half a pixel when you hover? I’m still irrationally angry about that.