Full game metadata
| Field | Value |
|---|---|
| Steam app type | game |
| Steam App ID | 2979000 |
| Live current players | 0 |
| SteamPulse tracked peak | 0 |
| Live count (today's peak floor) | 0 |
| Price | No longer available on Steam Store |
| Free to play | No current Steam offer |
| Discount | Not available |
| Original price USD | Not available |
| Current price USD | Not available |
| Release date | 2026 |
| Developer | AgentxSeoul, MissxSeoul |
| Publisher | Seoul Media Studio |
| Owners estimated | Not available |
| SteamSpy owner estimate minimum | Not available |
| SteamSpy owner estimate maximum | Not available |
| Review type | No user reviews |
| Positive review percent | Not available |
| Positive reviews | 0 |
| Negative reviews | 0 |
| Total reviews | 0 |
| Steam recommendations | Not available |
| Achievements | Not available |
| Average playtime forever | Not available |
| Windows support | Yes |
| macOS support | No |
| Linux support | No |
| Parent game | Not available |
| Store URL | Not available on Steam Store |
Short description
A psychological horror experience about fear, loss, and the darkest corners of the human mind. As David, confront your past—and what waits in the shadows.
About this game
Nothing here is lost. Some of it is simply not running. A ship came down on a world that keeps what falls into it. Its definitions — the parts that make it a ship — are scattered across sealed Sectors that are still running, long after whoever built them stopped. You are R-04. You do maintenance. You bring back what is missing. MNEME is the only voice you will ever hear. He ran the vessel, he runs what is left of it, and he is calm, precise and helpful. He counts. He never says anything untrue. A world you can watch being calculated Structures assemble in front of you, piece by piece. Walls dissolve when nothing needs them anymore. Whole stretches of ground run at a visibly lower resolution, because capacity went somewhere else. This is not a filter laid over a normal world. It is the rule the world runs on — and it is the thing you learn to operate. The surface has a verb: redirect capacity Nine zones on the surface. Never enough allocations for all of them. Resolving a zone means taking capacity away from another one. One place assembles itself while the other comes apart — one action, two places, both directions at once. Nothing is consumed, every choice is reversible, and nothing you need to finish is ever locked behind one. And the pool does not grow. Every part you install in the ship costs an allocation. Leaving is not free. Sectors: sealed, self-contained, still running Each Sector is a place that fell in long before you did and never stopped executing — a greenhouse, a dock, a shaft, a choir. Thirty to forty-five minutes each, built from switches, keys, shootable targets, sequences, and structures you assemble or dissolve on purpose. Wardens patrol them: maintenance processes that treat you as an unauthorized change to a Sector. One hit ends one. They are pressure, never the point. If they end you, you start again at the entrance — but every puzzle you solved stays solved. You lose your position. You never lose your thinking. One arm, three modes Fire, scan, grapple — one key each, each computing itself into existence when you call it. The arm is a tool before it is a weapon: it triggers things at a distance, shows you what the world is…
Supported languages
English * , German * languages with full audio support