Maya looks like that girl who would help you fix your wig backstage and then quietly ask if she can watch you fuck someone else. That’s basically the whole mood here. You start as this pretty normal boyfriend, she’s sweet, clingy in a cute way, making dumb jokes, acting shy, and then out of nowhere she drops this bomb that she gets wet thinking about you with other girls. Not cheating. Not secret. She wants front row. And the game doesn’t rush it either. It sits in that awkward, horny space where you’re not sure if she’s serious or testing you, and honestly, that tension is sexier than half the sex scenes I see on Fakku these days. One night she’s curled into your side, smiling and trying to sound brave, asking what kind of girls you’d fuck “if she gave permission,” then later you catch her staring when you text another girl and she bites her lip so hard it’s almost painful to watch.

From a costume nerd angle, I kept pausing scenes like a freak. Maya’s outfits are that cozy casual style that still feels erotic because you know exactly how they’d look tossed on the floor. Loose hoodie sliding off one shoulder, some soft shorts that cling just enough, messy hair that looks like she fell asleep doomscrolling on TikTok. The other girls lean more stylized, more “porn game obvious,” but not in a bad way. There’s this one art where a side girl is kneeling between your legs, hair pinned back just right, and all I could think was “okay, that braid is hell to style but it looks stupid hot.” The AI art is sometimes a bit cursed if you stare too long, like a hand that’s one finger too thick or a weird bend in the thigh, yet somehow that almost matches the kink energy. It feels like you are watching someone’s dirty fantasy drawn by a machine that’s also horny and slightly confused. Animations help a lot when things get explicit, especially with oral. The way heads bob, little shivers, Maya clutching a pillow and peeking while another girl sucks you off, there are shots that feel way more intimate than they should. And yeah, a few loops look stiff, but when Maya is trying not to moan while she listens, it just lands. It’s romantic, fucked up, jealous, tender and filthy all at the same time, like someone stitched a love story and a porn video together and forgot where one ends and the other starts.

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.

Extra Inches feels like somebody mashed a horny dating sim with a shitpost and then accidentally made it work. You start as this pretty regular guy, nothing special, and then suddenly you’re surrounded by people who are absolutely not regular at all. Girls with huge tits who lean way too close when they talk, hot traps who look better in panties than half of the female cast, a smug futa with a dick that makes you feel weird things about your life choices. The game never pretends to be classy. It just pushes you face first into all the “what if I tried this” fantasies you probably won’t admit out loud. One moment you’re chatting about school or work, next moment you’re on your knees with a cock in your mouth and you’re not even sure how the conversation got there, but somehow it feels right.

What I liked is how the scenes actually build, even when the art is simple. There’s this one route where you think you’re just flirting with a stacked girl, she’s got this tight top that can’t handle her chest, and you figure ok, this is basic fanservice. Then she pulls you aside, straddles your lap, starts giving you this lazy handjob while teasing your “cute little straight-boy act”, and you realize she’s not exactly what she looked like. The game doesn’t stop and shout “surprise, futanari” at you, it just lets your brain catch up while your cock is already committed. Same with the trap character: first meeting is playful, almost innocent, then later he’s on your bed, ass up, asking if you’re actually going to put that thing to use or keep pretending you’re just curious. And yes, there is anal, and yes, it leans into that “I shouldn’t like this as much as I do” feeling. I do wish the text box wouldn’t jump right when the best lines appear, it messed with my flow, but they probably won’t fix it and weirdly that fits the whole dirty, half-polished vibe this game has. The oral scenes are all over the place too: sometimes slow and sloppy, sometimes straight up porn-speed, no warning, just spit and gagging and you trying to click fast enough to see every frame. Character logic is a bit fucked, but in a fun way. One guy calls himself straight while he’s balls deep in a big ass that very clearly belongs to not-a-girl, and nobody comments. I kind of love that. It feels like a world where labels matter less than what you’re doing with your hands and mouth right now. And extra inches matter a lot.

It still pretends to be a dating sim on the surface, with choices and different paths, but the game knows why you’re here. You pick this answer or that one, and the end result is usually someone’s face near someone’s crotch. Sometimes the girls take control, sometimes the trap is topping you, sometimes you’re pounding a futa until her tits bounce off her chest and you forget which route you picked in the first place. The male protagonist is basically a vessel for whatever your brain wants that day. Gay, straight, bi, confused, whatever, the game doesn’t sit you down for a talk about it. It just keeps throwing scenes where you’re switching from eating pussy to sucking dick to pushing into a tight ass that clenches too hard on the first thrust. There’s a rough charm to it, like one of those messy but hot Twitter threads that goes way too far, except here you can replay it and try a different answer to see who ends up jerking you off in the park instead of at home. It’s crude, shameless, kind of dumb in places, and still weirdly honest about how horny people actually are when nobody’s watching.

Corrupt My Harem feels like watching a horny ethics lecture get slowly possessed by a demon and then deciding, ok fine, maybe consent is a bit… bendy tonight. You play this pretty standard anime boy who suddenly has access to dark magic that can poke around in people’s feelings, twist their shame, blow up their desire, and basically push them toward you. Not with subtle romance, more like “what if I slide a little corruption into that nice girl’s heart and see how fast she starts imagining choking and public sex.” That kind of vibe. The story pretends to ask things like “is this wrong?” but in practice it mostly asks “how far can we push this girl until she breaks in a hot way?” and then you click the darker option and, surprise, it actually goes there. As a gender studies person I should say “this is morally troubling” and yeah, it absolutely is, but also I still clicked the nasty choices first every time and then sat there staring at the screen like: alright, I’m the problem.

The fun part isn’t really the demon itself, it’s how the women slide down that corrupted slope. Early scenes are pretty soft: slightly naughty flirting, underwear shots, some teasing about being “too innocent.” You prod their emotions a bit, make them feel safe, or jealous, or curious, and then the script starts turning that into kinks. There is a really sharp moment where one girl is obviously uncomfortable, but you use the power to tweak her guilt into arousal and suddenly she is moaning while calling herself a slut and begging you not to stop. It’s fucked up, and the game knows it’s fucked up, but it does not pump the brakes. The harem angle is shameless: you are not building equal partners, you are stacking pretty toys around you and rewiring them until they feel lucky to be used. Sometimes it pretends to be a romance, with lines about “belonging to each other,” then five clicks later she is kneeling, crying from pleasure, thanking you for ruining her. That jump is wild, and kind of the whole point. I wish one route actually let a girl resist properly and stay resistant, but of course that would kill the fantasy, so it never really happens. The closest you get is temporary pushback before they melt into your hand again. Literally and metaphorically.

From a gender theory angle it is like a crash course in how power and desire tangle, just with a lot more cum. You’re not seducing, you’re hacking the emotional OS. The text leans hard on ideas like “she always wanted this deep down,” which is basically the classic porn excuse for non-consensual vibes, and it made me roll my eyes, then keep reading, then masturbate, then open Twitter and complain about patriarchy. I like how the corruption is emotional first and sexual second: jealousy, insecurity, need for approval, all inflated until they shift into exhibitionism, submission, even enjoying being shared. There is a scene where you dial up a girl’s fear of being abandoned so much that she offers her body to keep you, and the writing lingers on her shaking hands and wet thighs in a way that is almost cruel. It never really gives women a political voice, but it does give them a lot of sexual voice: they talk dirty, confess their fantasies, beg for more, describe what they feel in their bodies. It is still your fantasy, not theirs, but at least it lets them be loud and messy, not just silent dolls. I kind of hate how much that works on me. Also, tiny note that annoyed me: breasts get way more narrative attention than any other body part, to the point that one intense corruption scene almost gets derailed because the text can’t stop talking about nipples. I was like, yes, I get it, they’re hard, can we go back to her mind collapsing, please. Anyway, if you’re looking for soft, balanced, mutual romance, this is the wrong address. If you want to see “harem” turned into a laboratory for controlling desire, with demons as your research grant, it hits that fantasy embarrassingly well.

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.

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.

Zack is the guy who had everything handed to him way too early and fucked it up in a very believable way. At eighteen he’s the “next big thing”, flashing cameras, fake smiles, everyone grabbing his ass for a photo, then he just ghosts the whole industry right after his own premiere. When you meet him now, he’s not some alpha god, he’s making cappuccinos in a tiny town café, trying to look invisible behind the espresso machine, pretending he doesn’t hear when girls at the tables whisper “is that… him?” You’re not just clicking through flavor text, you’re basically steering this washed-up almost-celebrity through awkward small talk, horny scripts, and old wounds. One minute he’s wiping a table, next minute some blast from his Hollywood past walks in, looking way hotter than he remembers, and suddenly he’s back in that world of fake kisses on camera and real hard-ons between takes. The fun is that you decide if he leans into the casting couch bullshit or if he actually builds real relationships while still letting you stuff him in every available mouth and pussy on the way up.

The sex fits the story instead of just being slapped on top. A director corners him after an audition, reading his lines way too close, brushing fingers over his jaw, and you get the choice: play the good boy, or close the distance, drop to your knees and give him that sloppy, noisy blowjob that clearly isn’t in the script. There are scenes where Zack’s in a trailer with a co-star who can’t keep her hands off him between takes, panties already to the side before the assistant even calls “reset”, and you push him to fuck her deep and raw on that tiny couch, bare, because she wants to feel him spill inside her before they go pretend to be “just friends” on camera. The game doesn’t shy away from letting you finish inside, watch her clench around him and then walk out on set with his cum still dripping while she tries to keep a straight face. At the same time, if you’re more into the slow-burn dating sim vibe, you can have Zack build something softer with someone who knows the public Zack and the broken barista Zack, teasing him under the table at some industry dinner, then later riding him at his shitty apartment, moaning his name into his neck while you decide if he pulls out or just gives in to that raw, dangerous creampie she’s quietly begging for. It’s messy, a bit insecure, sometimes funny in a way that actually lands, like when he’s trying to be “serious actor” during a kiss rehearsal and pops a very visible boner, and the game just lets that turn into a full-on makeout, clothes half-off, her on his lap, grinding, until you finally slam into her and forget there’s a crew waiting on the other side of the door. You’re not just watching porn scenes glued together, you’re basically playing with the idea of fame, ego, and how far Zack will go with his mouth, his cock, and his heart to find out if he’s more than the guy who walked away.

Waking up in this game feels like turning a manga page and suddenly all the panels are drawn by a different artist, but with the same characters. Familiar faces, same snouts, same broad shoulders, same tails, but the vibes are totally fucked in a good way. One guy who used to be the shy lab assistant is suddenly this cocky bar owner who leans over the counter, chest fur showing, flirting like he’s already seen you naked ten times in another timeline. Another dude who was your serious physics partner is now a clingy, soft boyfriend type who isn’t your boyfriend, at least not in this world, but clearly wants to be. The whole thing is built like a visual novel where every route feels like reading an alternate doujin of the same series, switching from fluffy romance page to dick-out panel on the next click.

Sex doesn’t sneak up on you here, it walks right in, unzips, and sits in your lap. There’s no shy fade-to-black, it is very in-your-face, detailed, and honestly kind of charming how messy it is. Big bara bodies pressed together, fur ruffled, claws digging into bedsheets, wet sounds written straight into the text, cocks described with just enough detail that you can see them in your head without needing CGs every time. I like how sometimes the horny hits you right in the middle of a serious science talk, like you’re discussing portal stability and suddenly the guy pins you to the console and grinds his bulge against your hip, asking if “this” is stable enough. That jump is stupid and hot and feels like reading a fan comic where the artist got bored of plot around page 13. Romance actually exists though, not just sex trophies. Some routes make you work for a kiss before you get to blowjobs, and some just throw you into a sloppy, desperate fuck on a lab bench while alarms flash in the background. Choices actually change their attitude in the bedroom, like one character going from gentle, almost shy top to rough, needy fucker because of how you talked to him earlier. I loved that, except when I didn’t, because sometimes the pacing just collapses and you’re stuck in too much dialog about feelings when you only wanted to lick abs and bite his neck.

What hit me most is how every guy is a remix of someone you “knew” before the accident, like reading an AU arc. You look at the big lion physicist and remember how serious he was in the original world, then here he’s a gym-obsessed himbo who blushes hard when you compliment his mane, but still rails you so deep your vision basically turns into screentone dots. The game is horny from a gay furry point of view without apologizing once: musk, size difference, rimming scenes where the text literally focuses on how his tail twitches when your tongue goes deeper, cumshots described with more care than some games give to their main plot. There’s a route where you wake up in his bed, both of you still half hard, and you get this slow morning handjob while he talks about multiverse theory like it’s pillow talk, and it almost feels too sincere for porn. I played on my Steam Deck browser and had to keep switching to Telegram every time I got paranoid about someone walking in, which never happened, but still. Dialog sometimes feels like it was written by different people, like one scene is smooth and sexy and then suddenly somebody says a line that sounds like Google Translate drunk on wine. I kind of liked that, honestly, because it matches the whole “wrong universe” energy. The game trips over its own tone a lot, one moment tender kissing, the next you’re being pushed to your knees with your muzzle stuffed full, zero transition, but that chaotic rhythm is exactly why I kept clicking.

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.