You wake up beside her again, same as yesterday, same as the day before that - except she doesn’t remember your face. Not your name, not the way her legs wrapped around you last night, not the promises whispered against her ear. Every morning, she’s new. Blank. Soft. The game makes you feel like a bastard just for thinking about it, but then it tempts you harder - because who’s gonna stop you when she forgets every touch by sunrise? It’s dirty in that way that crawls under your skin and stays there, even when you pretend you’re just “testing different routes.” Sure. That’s what I told myself too.

Then her twin moves in, and things twist tighter. She looks at you with that same mouth, same body, but she remembers everything. There’s jealousy hiding under her polite smile. The kind that says she’s thought about you when she shouldn’t. Her hand brushes yours in the kitchen - accidentally, of course - and the screen flickers because the damn render bug still isn’t fixed. Doesn’t matter. You can almost feel her breath anyway. Later, when she knocks on your door at night, wearing nothing but guilt and a thin shirt, you’ll swear the devs coded temptation into the mouse cursor itself.

The corruption route hits hardest. Not because it’s the dirtiest (though, yeah, it is), but because it tricks you into believing you’re still the good guy. You watch her sister sneak into your bed, watch the girlfriend forget, watch yourself become someone you don’t recognize. There’s voyeurism baked right into the story structure - half the time you’re spying on your own conscience. The sex scenes aren’t shy: lips, fingers, wet sounds, the whole mess of it. Yet somehow it’s the morning after that feels filthiest, when she smiles at you like a stranger again. The game doesn’t punish you for cheating - it lets you drown in it. And maybe that’s worse.

Edward is the kind of guy you look at and think, “yeah, this dude really believes in romance.” He’s got that boring good-boy energy, the one who plans date nights, remembers anniversaries, all that crap. His girl, Erica, she’s got this soft sweetness at first glance, but her body is just pure trouble. Huge tits that don’t fit normal clothes right, an ass that keeps stealing every scene she’s in, tight skirts that pretend to be modest and fail every time. The story just drops you in the middle of their “happy” relationship, no grinding for stats, no dumb choices, just watching him slowly fuck around with the idea of “sharing” her like it’s a game and not a complete mindfuck. And then there’s Diego. Tall, confident, that annoying kind of chill dude who always looks like he knows more than you. The second he appears, it’s obvious what role he’ll play, but the tension is still hot as hell. There’s this nice build up where Edward is acting like he’s just being open minded, teasing her with dirty talk, showing her porn of girls getting used by other guys while pretending he’s not secretly terrified and turned on at the same time.

What I liked is how the whole thing moves like a slow train crash. No branching, no “good” route where everything stays pure. You just watch them slide from harmless flirting to real line-crossing. It starts with Edward pushing Erica to dress more revealing around Diego, little stuff like bending too much in front of him, accidental tits out of the bra, her laughing it off but not really. Then the eye contact gets longer, the jokes get dirtier, and the story leans hard into that cruel mix of romance and betrayal. Edward keeps telling himself this is their “thing,” that he’s in control, that he’s the one giving permission. And it’s kinda hot at first. There’s a moment where Erica sits on Edward’s lap while texting Diego, and the whole scene is just her grinding her big ass slowly while typing, pretending it’s nothing. No crazy action, just tension and cocky little smiles. That part stuck with me more than some of the full-on sex later.

The sex itself flips between tender and brutal in a nice way. One minute you have Edward and Erica making love like they’re still in a normal couple story, kisses, soft touches, her tits bouncing as she rides him, whispering that she loves only him. Next scene, Diego has her folded up, grabbing her ass with both hands, her moaning louder than she ever did with Edward, and the camera is unkind about it. You see the little details that hurt the most: her losing control when Diego hits that spot inside her, the way she calls his name a bit too clear, the exact second Edward’s fake confidence breaks. There’s teasing everywhere, not just sexual teasing, but emotional. She’ll say “it’s just fun, you know that” while her body clearly tells another story. The game makes you sit through Edward trying to be cool about it, to pretend this is still “their” fantasy and not his private nightmare. Some scenes are honestly rough if you’re a purist. At one point Diego sits on the couch like he owns the place, Erica standing between his knees, tits half out, and Edward just watches, frozen. It pissed me off a bit how easily she melts, but I couldn’t stop watching either. And I’m not even into this stuff usually, I’m that boring vanilla guy who just wants one-on-one romance, yet here I am, watching this dude slowly lose his girl and getting hard anyway. That’s probably the worst part.

Mythos feels like somebody smashed together a late night crime podcast, a horny anime parody and that weird urban legend subreddit you scroll on your phone when you should be sleeping, then sprinkled way too many tits on top and said “yeah, this is fine”. You pick if you’re playing as a guy or a girl right at the start, and it actually matters, not just in “pronoun changed, congrats” way. Some scenes twist a bit depending on your body, who stares at you, who you can seduce, whose hand “accidentally” lands on your ass in the train when the lights flicker and the supernatural stuff leaks through. There is this first big moment where you’re at Lisa’s memorial, staring at a photo of your ex who got murdered in some fucked up way nobody wants to explain, and two completely different types of people hit on you almost at the same time: a smug cop with that “I’m totally abusing my badge” vibe, and this soft spoken girl with huge tits spilling out of a tight uniform that should absolutely not be legal in a public place. The game doesn’t stop to tell you “this is a choice”. It just lets you go horny detective or horny victim or both and quietly tracks who you want to bend you over later.

Sex is not just “reward unlocked, here’s generic bouncing”. You’re running around this fake-modern city where vampires are landlords, tentacle things hang out in dark alleys like drunk ninjas and one busty elf professor keeps “tutoring” you after class, squeezing your thigh while talking about mythology like she isn’t about to slide under the desk and wrap her lips around you. There is a scene at a cheap business hotel during a “vacation” that is not really a vacation. You’re supposed to investigate, but instead you spend half the night pinned against the balcony railing by a frustrated MILF who is technically someone’s wife and technically not human and technically doesn’t give a fuck. She rides you slow while the neon signs below blink and you can choose if you pull out or let her take every drop and feel that messy creampie drip down her inner thighs while she laughs and calls you a good little snack. Later the same day, basically in the same clothes, the story casually throws you into this awful netorare-ish angle where you watch through a half open door as a different woman you got close to is getting pounded by some supernatural asshole with a cock way bigger than yours. The game lets you peek, or walk away, or join and turn it into harem chaos. If you stay hidden, you see her begging for more, getting titfucked until her face is glazed and you can’t decide if you hate her, hate yourself, or just want in. And that mood, that messy mix of comedy, jealousy, horror and “fuck it, let’s suck his balls too”, that’s pretty much Mythos all the way through, jumping between murder clues, meme jokes, romance sweetness, corruption temptations and stupidly hot tentacle scenes in the dark where you swear you’re still solving a case while something slimy is filling your ass and your mouth at the same time.

A husband, a stupid fight, and that sick feeling in your gut when you suddenly notice how short your own shadow looks next to another guy’s. That is basically where this story sits, grinning at you. You follow this poor bastard of a husband who starts the evening thinking he is “the man of the house” and ends up wondering if his wife is getting her pussy filled by somebody taller, thicker, and a lot more confident. The game plays like a teasing lecture about NTR, but not in a cold way. It is like a drunk friend whispering in your ear, “You see that guy talking to your wife? Yeah, that is how it starts.” The visuals sell that uneasy vibe: soft, slow camera-like cuts, those slightly too-long pauses on her lips when she smiles at someone else, her shirt clinging in all the right places, and his eyes squinting like he is trying not to imagine her on her knees, drool on another man’s shaft. The pace is not rushed, it pokes you. You get moments where almost nothing “big” happens, just small looks, off-hand comments, her phone lighting up with a message while she is in the shower and you are left staring at the screen, imagining every filthy word she might be reading.

There is a strong “PSA from hell” vibe, yeah, like some horny officer in a police comedy explaining step by step how your wife goes from “I would never cheat” to getting her ass slapped by a stranger in some cheap hotel on vacation. The husband is technically the male protagonist, but it never really feels like you are in control. You are more like a ghost stuck in his skull, dragged through his jealousy, his twisted fantasies, his humiliation. One scene that hit hard: he is sitting on the bed, replaying his argument with his wife, and his brain starts playing its own porn parody. Suddenly she is there in his mind, bent over the kitchen counter, big tits pressed on the cold surface, some smug bastard gripping her hips while she moans his name instead. The sounds get louder than his own thoughts. Little sticky lip noises, wet slaps, her breathy “harder” that he is not sure she ever said to him in real life. The game leans into that: you never know where reality stops and his corrupted imagination starts. Sometimes you see Sara in normal everyday clothes, then next transition she is in a tight uniform, unbuttoned just enough, or a cheap lingerie set that looks like it was bought for someone else’s eyes. You get flashes of oral, her cheeks hollowed around a thick cock, but it cuts away too soon, almost mocking you. And in the middle of all this, the tone suddenly slides into this weird humor, like a wink to those who know Konosuba jokes and tentacle memes, like the narrator is some half-drunk wiz giving you “NTR survival tips” while the real lesson is just: if you feel it happening, it probably started a long time ago, back when you ignored how she smiled at her “friend” a little too much. The game never holds your hand. It kind of laughs while you squirm.