Okay listen, this Dragon Ball parody game is kinda wild but also frustrating as hell. You're basically some kid who becomes the new God of Destruction because Beerus got kicked out or whatever - honestly the setup doesn't matter much since you'll be too busy trying to figure out the customization system. And holy shit there's a lot of customization.

The angel Vados is supposed to help you raise the "mortal level" but really she's just there to guide you through banging every female character from the series. We're talking Bulma, Chi-Chi, Android 18, Videl, that green-haired Cheelai chick from the Broly movie, even some of the angel characters like Heles. The art style tries to match Toriyama's but it's clearly amateur work - not terrible but you can tell it's fan-made. What got me hooked though was the costume editor. You can modify literally everything these girls wear, from their regular outfits to bikinis to... well, nothing at all. Spent way too much time getting Android 21's lab coat just right before the actual sex scenes.

Combat exists but it's basically an afterthought RPG system where you grind levels to unlock more characters and outfits. The real gameplay loop is collecting all the different costume variations and scene animations. Some characters like Kefla and Caulifla have fusion mechanics that unlock special threesome content, which is pretty clever actually. Mind control elements pop up here and there but they're not the main focus - mostly just an excuse for why these characters would suddenly want to fuck the new GoD. Mobile version runs decent enough on my phone but the PC browser version has better controls for the customization menus. If you're into Dragon Ball girls and want to dress them up before the lewd stuff, this hits that specific niche pretty well.

Can’t lie, I clicked expecting another copy-paste anime mashup with the usual stiff models and dead-eyed moans, but this one hits different. There’s a sadness under all that skin, like someone coded their fantasies too carefully, you know? I found myself staring at Raven’s face - Batman’s Raven - and thinking, “she shouldn’t be looking at me like that,” while still dragging her into position anyway. Unreal how fast guilt turns into hunger when the animation breathes just right. And maybe it’s because of the Illusion engine doing its sneaky physics thing, or maybe because the transitions are almost clumsy, like real people fumbling with clothes and patience. It’s messy, which makes it hot.

The scenes jump from universes without pretending to make sense. One second I’m in some broken-down Capsule Corp lab, Bulma smirking like she *planned* to get caught; next, Yoruichi’s toes press against my chest, laughing, telling me to look up. I did. Of course I did. The voyeur mode feels wrong in the best possible way - it doesn’t even give you fake morality options, just lets you watch. But then again, maybe that’s lazy design. Or genius. Hard to tell when your brain’s half-melted. The weird part? The sound mix changes depending on position, so D.Va sounds distant if she turns away. I swear no one ever gets audio that intimate, not even those overpriced VR patches on Steam.

Anyway, I could say it’s perfect, but I won’t. Some things twitch too mechanically - the faces sometimes freeze mid-expression, like they remember they’re code. Yet that’s also the charm. You see the seams, and you keep touching them. Like rubbing a wound for pleasure. Half the cast shouldn’t exist in the same space - Orihime beside Tifa beside Samus - but here they crowd my screen like they’ve been waiting forever. Maybe that’s why it works: it’s absurd, obscene, familiar, and somehow lonelier than expected. I closed the browser and immediately reopened it. Couldn’t help it.

I swear this game messed with my head more than any so-called “psychological” visual novel ever did. You wake up rich, spoiled, surrounded by girls who look like they stepped straight out of some fever-dream crossover - like, imagine Asuka Langley arguing with Hinata about who gets to sit closer to you at breakfast, and then Merlin just casually walks in wearing nothing but a towel that doesn’t even try to do its job. It’s ridiculous, yet there’s something weirdly believable about it. Maybe because the dream logic fits too well: everything looks perfect, but your brain keeps whispering that something’s off. I liked that uneasy feeling until it got buried under all the moaning and skin. Then again, maybe that’s the point - when reality breaks, people reach for pleasure first. Or I’m overthinking pixels again.

There’s this scene - I won’t spoil too much - but you’re supposed to choose between helping Yor Forger study or letting Jinx drag you to her room. I picked Yor, thinking it’d be wholesome. Yeah, right. Five clicks later she’s on the desk, glasses half-off, saying things no spy should ever say. The animation isn’t flawless; sometimes her eyes lag behind her face, which made me laugh when I shouldn’t have. But that glitchy charm stuck with me longer than any of the polished stuff. And the sound design? Way too real. My cheap headphones couldn’t handle Tsunade’s voice purring through them. Still, I kept replaying the same moment like an idiot chasing déjà vu.

Funny thing: I started playing for the sexy chaos, but ended up stuck thinking about that blank-memory setup. Like maybe the main guy deserves the confusion. Maybe we all do. It’s a horny game pretending to be philosophical - or a philosophical game pretending to be horny. Doesn’t matter. When Nami whispers something about “remembering the wrong things,” I actually paused. Then I unpaused, because, well… she was already moving.

You ever had one of those dreams where all your favorite anime girls somehow end up in the same damn room and nobody’s pretending to be shy? That’s the vibe here. It’s like someone cracked open every universe - Dragon Ball, My Hero, Fate, Pokémon, even some old-school Darkstalkers stuff - and said, “Yeah, let’s see what happens if we make this horny.” You start off like the usual male protagonist who’s probably too average for his own good, but then the story flips, and suddenly you’re face to face (or more like face between thighs) with women who look like they could crush you or bless you, sometimes both. Artoria looks divine, like she’s judging your soul while riding you. Cammy doesn’t ask, she just pins you. Lusamine’s smile is all wrong in the right way. It’s messy, it’s chaotic, and it knows exactly what it is - fantasy without apology.

There’s something about the way scenes shift that feels like tarot cards flipping. One moment, The Lovers - soft light, skin, slow rhythm, the sound of breath. Next card, The Tower - power play, domination, a queen’s boot on your chest. It’s all written in that language between pleasure and humiliation. I liked how it didn’t care for “moral arcs.” Nemuri Kayama whispering filth while she toys with you like she’s grading your stamina. Android 18 smirking, asking if you really thought you could keep up. You can’t. But you still try, and that’s kind of the point. Even the “romance” parts hit weirdly tender, like you accidentally caught feelings for a goddess who’s only half real.

I noticed some things that annoyed me - like the transitions, they just happen. No warning, no rhythm. But then again, maybe that’s what keeps it hot. It’s a fever dream stitched from too many fantasies, half memory, half instinct. The kind of game you tell yourself you’ll play for five minutes, then you’re sweating, reading every line like a prayer you don’t want answered. Nothing about it feels clean. That’s the charm. It’s lust pretending to be destiny. Or maybe the other way around.