This thing is such a weird mix that it already feels like a party game I’d pull up on my laptop when everyone’s a bit too horny and a bit too shy. It’s basically you, your dick, and 2B pretending to be your chaotic life coach while rubbing your brain with “48 Laws of Power” and rubbing… other stuff too. She’s not the quiet, stoic android from the original game here, she talks more like some slightly unhinged, overconfident camgirl who read one self help book and now thinks she’s your personal mentor. Half of the time she’s quoting Robert Greene, the other half she’s teasing you about how easily distracted you are by her thighs. And she’s right. The text jumps between “here is how to play power games in conversation” and “ok, now edge for me until the next law.” Very educational. Very stupid. Very hot.

What I really like is how unpolished it feels, in a good way. Some lines read like the dev typed them at 4 coffees in, no editor, just raw horny brain. There’s this one moment where 2B is explaining something about controlling how much you talk in a social situation, then the dialogue box suddenly shifts and she calls you out for clicking too fast and “not actually absorbing shit, just scrolling for tits.” I actually laughed and then, of course, slowed down like a good goon. The porn scenes are not subtle at all. She leans hard into the classic “I’m above you, but I’ll reward you if you obey” thing, with simple 2D art that really loves her ass and those legs. No pretense, no artsy metaphors, just “here is your android mommy dom reciting power strategies while making you ache.” Sometimes the pacing is all over the place: you get two laws packed tight together, then suddenly a long teasing stretch where she just keeps you on the edge and repeats similar lines, and I started thinking about what I needed from the grocery store. Then she dropped a line about “weaponizing silence in conversation” while telling me not to touch myself and I was suddenly paying attention again. The sound is mostly minimal, but the tiny clicky effects on choices and the occasional moan feel almost too loud, like when Pornhub starts an ad while you forgot your speakers are up. I wish there was more music variety, but honestly, I also kind of like the quiet, like she’s coaching you one on one in a hotel hallway at some anime con and you’re just praying nobody hears. It’s dumb, horny, and kind of helpful in a way that would make any serious therapist cry, and I’m absolutely going to “practice my social skills” with it again.

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.