About this game
There’s a moment in this thing where you’re literally sketching your own superhero persona, right? And I’m there, thinking about panel layout and inking techniques, completely forgetting I clicked on a porn game. Then some interdimensional goo monster appears at the convention and it’s all “congratulations, you’re your fursona now” except it’s a spandex-clad OC with the kind of assets that would make Power Girl file a lawsuit. The transformation sequence is unpolished in a way that feels deliberate, like the artist was more concerned with getting Black Cat’s smirk right than making the UI buttons line up. I respect that. Sort of.
The groping mechanic is just... it’s there. You’d think being a comic artist turned superhero would involve more punching and less awkwardly pawing at Jessie from Final Fantasy, but no. The hitboxes are janky. I spent a solid minute trying to interact with a background character that turned out to be a cardboard cutout of Danny Phantom. Not a parody, just a literal cardboard standee. My character can phase through walls but not through the existential dread of realizing the game’s version of Helena is just a traced pinup with dialogue that reads like a bad Google Translate of a DeviantArt caption. And yet.
And yet I kept going. Because somewhere between the accidental harem of DC also-rans and a very confused Tifa Lockhart asking why I have a Pokéball, the whole mess starts feeling like a fever dream you’d have after eating too much convention hall pizza. The 2D art is inconsistent, sometimes gorgeous in a sketchy way, other times looking like a middle school notebook margin. There’s a scene where you’re supposed to be seducing someone but the character’s expression is just... mild indigestion. I laughed out loud. Not sure that was the intended reaction. The male protagonist’s internal monologue is peak “I studied the blade” energy, which tracks for a guy who makes comics about himself.
The actual sex stuff is explicit as hell, don’t get me wrong. Lots of jiggling, lots of improbable positions. But it’s framed with this weirdly sincere narrative about imposter syndrome. Like, yes, you’re motorboating a parody of Marvel’s Black Cat, but you’re also worried your character design isn’t original enough. The tonal whiplash is so severe I think I pulled a muscle. Not the one you’d expect.