Life kicks you in the balls, spits on you a little, then sends you back to your crappy small town with a useless degree and zero plan. That’s where you start here. No epic hero, no chosen one, just a tired guy with no job, cold looks from the people who took him in, and the constant feeling that life is already over before it even got good. Then she shows up. Not in some cute “anime girl trips into your lap” way either. More like “horns, claws, way-too-sultry voice, and eyes that know exactly how much of a loser you are” kind of entrance. She calls herself a goddess. She looks like something your priest would have a stroke over. And she wants you. Not for your charm. For a deal. Your body, your sins, your help… in exchange for a life where you actually get to fuck your way through power, revenge, and very, very unholy romance.

The setup feels like some messed up dating sim smashed into a fantasy cult story. You go from sleeping in a room that smells like old socks to getting pulled into a world where nuns are not exactly pure, monster girls want more than a cuddle, and faith is something moaned, not whispered. You’re free to wander around, poke your nose where it shouldn’t be, slide into people’s lives, then into their beds. One route you’re sweet-talking a strict religious milf who thinks she can “save” you, next moment you’re on your knees between her thighs, hands buried in her big ass while she forgets all about God. Another time you’re dealing with a smug futa with a holy symbol on her chest and a very unholy problem in her pants, watching her ahegao while you stroke her off, half guilty, half addicted. Sometimes it’s soft, like kissing a shy monster girl under the moon, her tentacles wrapping around your legs while she gives you a slow, sloppy blowjob that feels like it takes ages. Sometimes it’s five bodies tangled at once, tits pressed together, tongues crossing, your cock sliding between big breasts while someone else sucks on your toes and another girl rides your face. It jumps from romance to filth so fast your brain just kind of gives up and enjoys the ride.

What makes it fun is how messy it feels. You’re not some confident porn hero. You’re awkward, you say the wrong shit, you pick a choice because you’re horny and suddenly you’re in a threesome you absolutely were not ready for. One moment you’re holding a girl’s hand, promising her something sweet, and the next you’re pinned to an altar with her and her “sister” grinding on you, swapping spit over your mouth, both of them moaning your name like it’s a prayer. There’s lesbian stuff all over the place too, like you walk in on two monster girls going down on each other and instead of the usual “oh no, I’m sorry,” you just quietly sit, watch, and the game lets it play out, full animated tongues and all. Interracial, milfs, futas, holy girls, monster cuties, mobile-friendly enough that you can sneak a quick footjob scene on your phone while pretending to scroll Instagram. Sometimes the pacing is weird and scenes hit you out of nowhere, like you were just trying to grind a bit and suddenly a nun is sucking you off behind the church, drool dripping down your shaft, eyes rolled up like a possessed angel. But honestly, that chaos fits the whole “sold your soul to a horny goddess with an agenda” vibe. It feels less like a clean porn catalog and more like your life went off the rails and landed right in a pile of tits, tentacles, and very bad decisions that feel really, really good.

New town, new job, new giant horny mess. The whole thing starts with you dragging your tired ass into this weirdly serious pharma company, Palmer-Pharma, while every single woman around you looks like she escaped from a “thick and dangerous” catalog. The boss wants to see you on Sunday, which already screams “this is not about paperwork, honey,” your phone is gone, you barely know where you sleep tonight, and then you meet your landlady with hips that could cause traffic accidents. Game’s like: welcome, you are stressed, lost, and also surrounded by big tits and asses that do not believe in subtlety. Real HR problem, but in a fun way.

Once you start moving around town, it turns into this slow, horny tour of every curvy grown woman in a ten-mile radius. None of that barely-legal nonsense, these are women who pay bills, remember your schedule, and still somehow have time to pin you to the sofa and jerk you off while complaining about their ex. One moment you’re talking about lab procedures with the assistant who pretends to be all serious, glasses and clipboard, and next thing, she’s teasing you with that “oh, is that for me?” look, brushing her hand over your bulge and pretending it’s an accident. The receptionist? She switches from snarky gatekeeper to “I locked the door, now sit on this chair and don’t talk” while she kneels between your legs and takes her sweet time with her mouth. And she does that thing where she stops right before you cum, smiles, then goes back like she’s tasting wine. That detail annoyed me in the best way and I swear I’m still mad about it. I’m also still thinking about that barmaid, the one who hands you a drink, leans over the counter with her huge boobs almost falling out, and spends five minutes just playing with your self-control. Like, she’ll casually press her soft belly against you on the way past, whisper something filthy in your ear, then pretend she said nothing. The scenes go from handjobs on sagging couches, lazy morning oral with messy hair and no makeup, to hard, slow vaginal sex where the camera really loves the jiggle, the folds, the way big asses move when you’re deep inside. It’s not shy about any of it. There are choices everywhere, which you will totally forget about because your brain has turned into “which thick woman do I fuck today” mode, but those choices actually branch out into different scenes and endings, so your horny indecision has consequences. Also, I keep thinking about that one tiny animation where the landlady adjusts her top after you finish on her chest, like she gives this little “ugh, men” smile, wipes it with a tissue, and I spent far too long replaying that instead of doing literally anything useful. Anyway. The whole thing feels like you got dropped into a town where every chubby, soft, mature woman secretly wants to either mother you a bit, or ride you until you forget your name, sometimes both in the same scene, and yes, it’s a mess, but it’s my kind of mess.

There’s this white‑haired guy, looks like he escaped from three different games at once and got stuck in a horny fanfic, and somehow it works. You’re in his skin, mostly in first person, which hits different when Furina is breathing too close and 2B is giving you that deadpan “I could kill you or ride you, haven’t decided” stare. It plays like a romance VN that forgot to be shy. Instead of slow burn, it’s more like “ok, here’s the awkward flirting, click twice, now here’s her pinning you against a wall because you picked the smartass answer in the dialogue choice.” Half the time I felt like I was scrolling a horny Discord RP that upgraded into something with actual routes and CGs.

What I really like is how the crossover stuff doesn’t feel like a cheap cosplay mashup. Furina still has that drama queen energy, talking like the whole world is watching, and then five lines later she’s blushing while basically begging you to keep touching her. One scene in the fountain area actually made me stop and grin like idiot: you tease her about being “too loud for public” and the game actually lets you choose if you want to keep pushing or back off, and the two paths aren’t just a tiny text swap. On the push route she ends up half sitting on the edge, legs shaking, trying to hold character as the proud archon type while you’ve got your hand between her thighs under the water. On the gentler route she softens so hard it feels like a different girl, hugging your arm and quietly asking if you’ll stay. I kind of hate that the game is this good at making me care and also making me hard. It’s rude.

The 2B content is colder, more clinical, but then she starts to crack. There’s this locker‑room style area where she’s supposed to be “running diagnostics” on your body. It starts all professional, scanning your muscles, posture, whatever. Then you pick the slightly cocky “guess I pass your inspection?” choice and she just kneels, checks how “responsive” you are with her mouth, still talking about efficiency and optimal stimulation like she’s reading a manual, but her lips are getting sloppy and she forgets to keep that perfect soldier demeanor. The POV angle makes it feel way too personal, especially when she looks up and asks if she should prioritize your pleasure or data collection, and you know the wrong answer is going to lock you out of some later scene, yet you still hesitate. The romance side is actually softer than I expected, small hand touches, jealous looks between the two heroines when they think you’re not paying attention. I wish the menus were less clunky though, those tiny buttons feel like mobile game leftovers and it annoys me way more than it should. Also the transitions sometimes stutter for no reason, like the game is catching its breath after the same way you are. But then Furina starts a stupid argument over nothing, 2B calls her illogical, and both of them end up competing to see who can make you cum harder, and suddenly I forget I was going to complain about anything at all.

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.