outside the door

[h1]Impressive/ǝʌᴉssǝɹdɯI [/h1] The plot is very intriguing but also uncanny and the way you start noticing patterns and connections makes it more interesting and invites you to keep playing to discover the truth behind it.

Pretty good! It creates a nice atmosphere that exists somewhere between realism and liminality. The environment feels recognizable enough to be believable, yet strange enough to evoke the unsettling sensation of occupying a space that exists slightly outside ordinary reality. The game's visual style reinforces this tension beautifully. The central premise places you in a work environment, but in a way that highlights one of the peculiar strengths and weaknesses of the visual novel form. The data you process never feels particularly important, and mistakes carry little consequence. This makes the job feel even more abstract, and it also contributes to the dreamlike quality of the experience. Like many visual novels, the focus is less on the task itself and more on the psychological and narrative space that surrounds it. What gives the game its identity is its protagonist. There is something vaguely Kafkaesque about the character and the world they inhabit. The feeling does not emerge from overt bureaucracy or absurdity alone, but from the subtle sense of existing within a system whose logic remains partially obscured.

The art style is what initially drew me to the game. Unfortunately, the plot and ending become predictable very quickly, which makes you want to get through it as fast as possible. On top of that, the choices you make throughout the game barely matter, except for the final judgment. The English translation also feels quite awkward, and some of the dialogue is genuinely uninteresting. It's an interesting first game, but I wouldn't recommend it.

The entire game revolves around one question: do we truly have the right to judge another person? It's easy to condemn someone's actions when all we see is the outcome. The game constantly challenges that instinct by forcing us to listen, question, and ultimately decide another person's fate. But at the same time, it asks an equally important question: how reliable is the story we're being told? Are we judging people based on the truth, or simply the version of events they want us to believe? At first, nearly every situation paints Hannah as someone deserving sympathy. She was bullied, betrayed, and repeatedly treated unfairly. But as the timeline progresses, a pattern emerges. Every new revelation makes her actions morally worse than she initially described. She isn't necessarily lying outright every time, but she's consistently presenting the most "charitable" version of events while also omitting details that change the context. She claims pushing Emily was an accident born from emotion, yet it's clear she wanted to hurt her in that moment. She tampered with the ammunition, later discovered it hadn't actually worked, and conveniently left that information out. Again and again…

english dialogue is janky + hard to skip through

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