You wake up on this flying steel hotel called HMS Yuritopia, officially as “new fighter pilot”, unofficially as “dude dropped into a horny anime base”. The whole thing has this weird mood where half your brain is going “ok, we have mission briefings and air combat to worry about” and the other half is looking at the Seraph Squadron girls in their tight uniforms and thinking about literally anything except safety protocols. It starts pretty tame, just chatter in the hangar, some teasing, a bit of MC awkwardness, you picking dialogue options and trying not to sound like a complete idiot. Then very quietly the game puts your dick on a rails and goes, yeah, this is about sex, romance, and also jets, try to keep up.

What I like is how it doesn’t shove you straight into porn from line one. You flirt, you pick sides, you piss someone off by choosing the “cool” answer that actually lands as cringe, and the game remembers it. One scene you’re in the cockpit, comms crackling, adrenaline going nuts while you chase bogeys over some nameless ocean, and then later you’re in the locker room with one of the girls, the air still buzzing from the mission, her boots half unlaced, her flight suit hanging loose from her waist. She lifts her foot onto the bench, starts smirking down at you, and suddenly you’re on your knees, cheek pressed to her thigh, tasting sweat and soap while she rubs her toes along your lips like she owns your mouth. She doesn’t even need to say “good dog”, you feel it. The game loves that kind of power imbalance, like constant little reminders that yeah, you’re the pilot, but they’re the real aces here, especially when it comes to your body.

At some point you end up in this semi-private observation deck, glass all around, stars and clouds outside, and one of them decides to use you as her stress relief. She sits on your face while the ship hums around you, legs clamped tight, voice dripping trash talk. She calls you pathetic in one line and then fingers your hair in the next, sighs like she’s actually proud you know how to use your tongue. You can feel her heels against your back, pressing, like she’s pinning you there so you don’t even think about breathing before she’s finished. Later, another route, you’re in her cabin, lights low, she makes you sit on the floor between her knees while she lazily strokes you with one hand and pats your head with the other, talking in that soft pilot briefing tone about how “a good subordinate obeys every order”. The handjob is slow and almost painfully controlled, she stops right before you cum just to tilt your chin up with her toes and ask if you deserve it. That’s the kind of mean that sticks in your brain. And then somewhere else, way less dramatic, you’re just in the mess hall, talking shit about loadouts and missions, and two girls are basically flirting with each other over your plate like you’re just background furniture, brushing each other’s fingers, trading little looks, and it’s somehow hotter than the obvious blowjob scene that comes later in the corridors when one of them drags you behind a bulkhead, drops to her knees, and uses you to wipe that smug smile off your face, except it doesn’t work because now you’re the one whimpering against the wall, trying not to make noise while she dribbles spit down your shaft and laughs quietly every time your hips jerk. The whole thing feels like romantic drama and horny barracks gossip got locked together in a cabin, and you’re the idiot who knocked on the door at the worst possible moment.

This one starts quiet. Not horny-chaos-from-second-one, more like slow boil. You’re this young acolyte in a tiny mountain village, technically there to “serve the gods” and “keep the sacred balance” and all that formal crap, but after like ten minutes it’s very clear the real job is getting tangled up with muscular divine men who have way too much body hair and zero sense of personal space. It feels like a romantic stats spreadsheet that accidentally grew a dick. You run around doing rituals, picking dialogue options, watching your “bond” values crawl up like you’re tracking conversion rates in Google Sheets, except every successful “ritual” ends with you pinned to an altar by some mythic beefcake who looks like he could bench press the whole temple and your character is just… letting him.

The vibe is surprisingly cozy before it gets filthy. The gods aren’t these distant glowing things, they’re big guys with scars, fat cocks and weird insecurities. One of them talks like he’s a grumpy uncle, huge chest, hairy belly, thick arms, and then once you choose a bold response instead of the submissive one he slams you against the shrine wall. That escalated fast and I loved it. You start to notice little patterns: be too polite with the storm god and you get one kind of scene, push back and suddenly he chokes you lightly while he fucks you on the temple floor, thunder outside like some overdramatic porn soundtrack. It’s all text and vibes, but the way it describes weight, warmth, the way your thighs shake after he finishes inside you, it’s not coy at all. I actually had to pause a route because my brain was trying to calculate which affection threshold triggered the anal scene while my dick was like “shut up, we’re busy”.

The writing jumps between sweet and trashy in a funny way. One moment you’re helping fix a prayer banner and talking about duty and devotion, next moment that same “gentle” god has you straddling his lap, his cock grinding between your cheeks while he whispers that a devoted acolyte offers his whole body, not just his hands. There are small mechanics that you start to min-max without even thinking: like which nightly duty to take, which offering to pick, how “pure” you pretend to be in public. I kept a stupid Excel sheet open tracking which answers gave intimacy points and which unlocked what, then I blew one of the big endings because I got greedy and went for one more sex-heavy choice with the other god. Suddenly the “husband” style route snapped, and the guy who had been all soft and protective basically looked at me like I was a slutty tourist in his temple. Still fucked me, rougher than before, but the epilogue text hit different. That walk-of-shame paragraph where the villagers bow to you while you’re sore and know you technically saved them but kinda broke your main relationship? That stuck more than any cum detail.

It’s lewd as hell without feeling like a cheap porn generator. When a scene says he pushes deep, it lingers on stretch and breath and how your legs tremble, not just the finishing line. There’s one altar scene where your acolyte is on his back, robes pushed up, the god holding your ankles up high so your hole is exposed to the candlelight, and he just… takes his time, tracing your rim with his thumb while you squirm and try not to beg. That whole thing is like fifteen screens long and I remember more about the way it built up tension than about who was technically “on top” in the lore. Also, tiny nerd complaint: the save slots are labeled in a slightly weird way and I keep overwriting the wrong branch, which made me replay the same blowjob under the waterfall three times. Not that I’m mad about that specific scene, the description of water running down his abs while he holds your head and groans is stupidly hot, but still. I keep forgetting which path I’m planning, then some god with thick thighs and a smug smile shows up and all the careful “route optimization” goes out the window and I’m just clicking the option that sounds like “yes, ruin me, holy daddy”.