Simon wakes up in the far future, stuck on a ship in the middle of space, surrounded by nine alien girls with ridiculous curves and zero sense of shame. It feels a bit like someone mashed together a trashy harem anime and a cheap sci‑fi flick they found on a torrent site, then just leaned into every horny idea that popped up. The tone is stupid in the best way. One moment you’re listening to a serious speech about “saving the universe” and five minutes later you’re watching a slime‑skinned monster girl trying to figure out human underwear and accidentally flashing half the crew. The game knows exactly what it is. It keeps throwing teasing scenes at you where clothes never quite stay on, like that first time the insectoid girl tries on a tight jumpsuit and the camera just lovingly stays on her ass while she pretends she’s not noticing you staring. There is this constant feeling that everyone on this ship is a tiny bit too horny and nobody has the emotional maturity to admit it, which honestly feels realistic for a porn game pretending to be a space opera.

Choices matter just enough to make you sweat. Example: early on, there is this “morale boosting” event where you can choose which girl to escort through a transparent corridor with full view to the deep void outside. Sounds like some poetic sci‑fi thing, right? No, it’s basically a public stripwalk for aliens. You pick the shy tentacle‑haired engineer and she keeps pretending her suit malfunctioned, giving you glimpses of huge tits pressed against cold glass, nipples hard and obvious, while other crew members conveniently wander by and pretend not to stare. Keep pushing the flirt and the game lets you push her against the wall later in the engine room, legs spread, tentacles wrapped around your wrists while you fuck her raw from behind and watch her ahegao face reflected in a metal panel. Or you play nice and she stays in that permanently horny‑but‑denying state, which can be even hotter if you’re a teasing enjoyer. There is a lot of creampie focus too, which the script doesn’t even try to hide. Some scenes end with your cum dripping out of an alien pussy while the ship’s AI comments on “successful genetic transfer” like it’s just checking fuel levels. It can feel a bit repetitive at times, always circling back to the same big tits and tongue‑out faces, but the dumb jokes and constant parody of sci‑fi tropes keep it from getting boring. It’s like watching people roleplay Star Trek, if Star Trek was written by horny Reddit shitposters and nobody had heard of bras.

You wake up on this fucked up alien rock with nothing in your head except a headache and a dick that apparently has more rights than you do. No tutorial, no friendly AI, no star-map, just you in some half torn prison jumpsuit and a sky that looks like somebody crossbred a nebula with a fever dream. The place is quiet in that way where you know something is watching you, and that something probably has claws and tits bigger than your torso. People in philosophy like to ask “what is a person?” but this game mostly asks “what if every creature that meets you wants to own your body, and sometimes worship it, and sometimes milk it until you literally can’t stand?”

The first alien girl you meet looks half priestess, half hentai search history. Four eyes, soft voice, curves that ignore gravity, and hands that are a bit too interested in human anatomy. She treats you like a rare animal, a relic. Before you even know your own name she already knows the shape of your cock. There is a scene where she studies you like you are some holy artifact, then casually starts stroking you off as “data collection”. It’s not romantic at all and somehow still erotic as hell. You can argue about consent here and yeah, as an ethicist my brain started doing the full moral alarm dance. But my dick voted differently. Funnily, the game just lets you sit in that tension. You are turned on, you are not fully safe, and those soft alien hands keep going, dripping lube, making you groan while she comments on your endurance like it is a lab report.

Later you end up in this underground den where the creatures are less “priestess” and more “monster girl with way too many teeth, thighs like tree trunks, and a tongue that remembers exactly where your weak spots are.” One of them yanks you onto a stone seat, climbs into your lap, those huge tits in your face, and for a moment you actually forget you were shipped here as a convict. She jerks you with one hand, uses her tail for extra grip, and every time you try to talk about freedom or justice she shuts you up with a sloppy kiss and then slides down to give the kind of messy alien blowjob that would get an entire subreddit banned. There is a tiny UI pop-up asking if you want to “resist” and I laughed, because yeah, sure, I am definitely going to click the option that cancels the view of those lips stretched around me, drool and cum mixing, her throat humming with some strange purr while your legs shake. Philosophically, the game is a disaster. As porn? It knows exactly what it is doing and does not apologize for even a second.

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.