Terra Invicta not only asks the bold question “What if Alex Jones was right?” but “What if Alex Jones was a deep-state operative for a xenophobic paramilitary organization bent on the survival and supremacy of mankind in a reality where humanity finds itself not only awkwardly accompanied in the proverbial men’s room of the universe, but having to fight the other occupant while pissing?”

Enter the dystopian hellscape of Terra Invicta, which is basically the same as the one we live in only with the added fantasy element of Russia sometimes winning the war against Ukraine.

The world is run by a coterie of secret societies that are separated only in ideology concerning how to deal with the recently discovered aliens in our solar system. Otherwise, they all joyfully and clandestinely steer the events of human history, exploit labor and utilize the media to control the masses all in service of their goals.

Humanity First likes its aliens like it likes its coffee: dead and with no family to come looking for them.

The Servants are basically degenerates that want eggs planted in them and all the art of it happening they can commission on Twitter.

The Initiative are the same ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ that have been ruining life for everyone since time immemorial - your war profiteers, career politicians, hedge fund managers and DMV agents that see the emergence of aliens as an opportunity to clamp their lich-like grasp even tighter around the throat of mankind.

The Academy are eggheads that want to stand side-by-side with the aliens in some sort of Rodenberryesque future. Think Star Trek, only not the dumb one ran by that hack who can’t stop failing upwards, Alex Kurtzman.

The Resistance wants to kick the aliens off their lawn and make sure they don’t burn their home down while doing it.

If the Servants want eggs implanted in them, The Protectorate is their husband that’s watching it all happen from the closet wearing his Quailman cosplay with a belt around his neck, a framed portrait of 40th U.S. President Ronald Reagan in one hand and his penis in the other.

Project Exodus has had enough. They think we should just pack our ♥♥♥♥ and find another planet because, heck - we already kinda screwed this one up, right? Mulligan!

You utilize agents to project your wishes on the world. Drum up public support, crack down on opponents' strongholds, subvert governments, draft ill-advised policy, assassinate rivals, sweep out alien infestations, invite them to your house for netflix and chill, buy OnlyFans and use it for propaganda… the options are not quite endless, but certainly abundant. Each agent has a RPG stat and trait system reminiscent of Crusader Kings to represent how skilled they are at different things. Enlist Commandos, Celebrities, Diplomats, Reporters. Imagine if Amouranth was spreading alien microflora through her fart jars or Mitch McConnell had a real reason to lock up the legislative branch of US Government besides spite.

Fight Kaiju. Mine the moon. Build spaceships to assert dominance over the alien scum trying to hole up on your exoplanets. What’s that? China is getting uppity and all the users on WeChat are basically saying, “Haha wouldn’t it be weird if we just banged the aliens and let them fill up our bodies with their eggs? XD” Sounds like a Servant problem. Don’t want to get blown up in a low-grade nuclear exchange getting rid of them? No problem! Take control of North Korea and have them send a salvo at Beijing, severely crippling the global economy and getting them glassed in comeuppance while you laugh and clink glasses in the penthouse of a Lyon skyscraper (they put them out there so it doesn’t ♥♥♥♥ up the Paris skyline). Uh-oh, looks like Kim Jong Un has been getting into the black market Western bourbon again! At least the fine, irradiated ash of the exchange will cool down global temperatures because guess what? All of that ♥♥♥♥ is tracked. Methane. Carbon. You’re battling the aliens. You’re battling all the people you already didn’t like on earth. You’re battling global warming. Enemy faction has more satellites in low orbit than you? No problem - blow them ♥♥♥♥♥ up and create a Kessler Syndrome effect that will cripple satellite uplinks for generations! Need cash? Just do what the United States does and cause a coup in South America so you can drain the economy and make it safe for American interests like Dole and Chaquita. Who needs forest when my kids need 26g of sugar per serving of pineapple juice? Diabetes fuels the bio-med sector! Live out your wildest fantasies and take direct control of the United States to stand down their military, dismantle their nuclear arsenal, remove them from all their alliances and set the spoils to max. Why would you do this? Because you're a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ insidious organization that operates outside man's myopic, infantile sense of morality and have no God or master but whatever Puckish urges get the Super Unleaded flowing into your blood bomber. Now kiss me hard you sonovabitch, because we're going to mould the world in our image and by God it's not going to be pretty. Don't worry; by the end of it all your brain will have woven an elaborate, delusional narrative elevating you to the status of a Christ figure because that's the only way it can compartmentalize the sheer amount of human suffering you've inflicted on your way to the top. By then you'll have just the most infinitesimal inkling of what it's like to be Jeff Bezos.

This game is great, and by great I mean awful. Never have I seen big picture corporate exploitation so clearly illustrated. Every time I started to get sucked in I’d start retching uncontrollably when the borders between reality and fiction became thread-bare. My wife freaked out the first time and started yelling at me to clean it up. I calmly explained I couldn’t use the mop because we were going to have to start saving our potable water in the bathtubs for when the water wars of Ceres broke out and the pigs started forming ‘Community Action Programs’ to steal our cloud tears. They’ll never take me alive. I’ve been using a carbonization process to break down bananas for their potassium in my shed and have enough to make Waco look like a block barbecue.

Loyalty is an illusion. Nations are mere pawns to be positioned against one another. People aren’t even individuals anymore but merely a number to be tracked. There are fears that need to be stoked and ideologies that need to be nurtured. The game tracks and models everything. It’s ripe for evocative, emergent storytelling. Some of it is clunky and a bit hard to intuit. I’d suggest checking out youtube because the tutorial is a joke and the systems are complex. You're going to be staring at a globe on 4x speed a lot, but you may also be doing things the hard way. New player experience is a waking nightmare. But I think with a little bit more time, it may be one of the greatest games ever played.

It’s nice to be able to sit down and play a game that lets you forget for but a moment what a ridiculous clown world we live in only by the merit that it contextualizes all the madness that occurs on a day to day basis as the works of impenetrable, ubiquitous shadow governments fighting or working with aliums. Sometimes I marvel at the imagination of the developers. I mean, c’mon. Really? The entirety of the world being steered by the whims of the few and powerful? Wouldn’t that be wild? Haha, oh man! The weed must hit differently in Colorado, Pavonis.

Wouldn't that. Just be. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ wild.

Buy the game if you're into nerd ♥♥♥♥ and don't need the Dopamine hit of something shiny appearing on the screen every 5 seconds to be entertained. The real graphics engine is in your brain.

Do not make the existentially damning choice of introducing new children into this hell simulator called life.

Time for a drink. I don't feel well.

This game sets critical feminist theory back several decades and I'm here for it.

You play some wimpy looking twink slinging an absurd slab of meat that flies in the face of the Geneva Conventions. I presume that's why you're in some banana republic where international law can't hold you accountable for your indiscriminate use of a weapon of mass destruction. Have you ever seen the movie "Porky's?" Of course not; you're a zoomer. If "Porky's" was a person, he'd be the protagonist. Peepin' on babes. Forced innuendo. His dong leads him through the world like a blind man's cane. He's obnoxious and full of himself, but occasionally he'll surprise you. Example. At one point he's like, "Yeah, I'm trying to bang you but you're also super smart and I bet if you apply yourself you'll show up your old man one day." Or there's this time he really upset his friend and he gives her a nice comforting hug — only to immediately ruin it by whispering, "YoU cAn CoME tO mE fOr SEx aDVIcE ANy tiMe aNd IT wiLL bE oUr liTTLe sEcrEt ;)". Did I mention that he wants to be a treasure hunter like his dad, Idaho Johnson? DOCTOR Idaho Johnson? Doc Johnson? Yeah, that’s the sorta game you’re playing.

Along the way you meet your future harem. There are 12 of them. Some are more memorable than others. I’ll give you an introduction to a few.

Alia: Alia is an entire sorority packed into a single person, complete with experimenting with girls and an inability to complete tasks more complicated than basic functions like breathing and blinking. Naomi’s daughter. Slender, dark-haired and olive-skinned.

Naomi: Naomi is to chastity what the Spanish were to the Mesoamericans. Her entire character is summed up when she proudly proclaims “I want to share your ♥♥♥♥ with the world!” with the same energy Moses delivered the ten commandments from atop Mt. Sinai. Alia’s mom and Sam’s wife. Busty, mature, brown-skinned and dark-haired.

Diana: Diana is what you imagine happened to Lara Craft when she got older. Or Angelina Jolie, for that matter. Your body isn’t what it used to be, your opportunities are drying up and your debts are being called in. Soon you find yourself doing things you never thought you’d do, like selling precious artifacts on the black market or marrying Brad Pitt. Comes in two flavors: librarian and jumanji expedition. Black hair, pale complexion and athletic proportions.

Pricia: Pricia is a love letter to Asian culture. I knew that I was going to get a nuanced and thoughtful portrayal of the struggles of a first generation South East Asian attempting to assimilate to their host country the moment she said “NO HAPPY ENDING FOR BAD TIPPERS!” Looks like Connie Chung. It’s okay if you don’t know who that is - I’m old.

Emily: Emily is an heiress to a vast fortune and like any rich kid she’s trying to crawl out of the shadow of her dad. She’s what would happen if Walter White was a hot chick who sold molly. She’s literally wearing the outfit from Brittany Spears “Hit Me Baby One More Time” music video. Sandy blonde hair in a cute perm, tight butt, small chest and white. The gentleman’s choice and the closest you'll come to the patricians choice of DFC + Wide Hips combo.

Tasha: Tasha is what happens when you get tattoos while you’re drunk. And that drinking started at 13. And continued until your liver was on the verge of failure or were convicted of vehicular manslaughter. She’s what every biker wants before they settle for a haggard, middle-aged woman with more lines on her face than a topographical map of a canyon. She was probably super bummed when Live Journal stopped being a thing. Red head, tattoo’d, buxom… look, you know the type. Super tsun-tsun.

Sam: You don't screw Sam - at least not physically. Sam spends every day of his life making Beef Jerky while his wife flagrantly has affairs with younger men. Sam worries about patching up holes so his family doesn't hurt themselves while the dashing young adventurer ♥♥♥♥♥ his daughter in the next room. Sam hates social functions; but Sam loves his family. The world has set upon this man every conceivable hardship and he endures for the sake of his adopted daughter. When this great wicked world is at last swallowed up by whatever eldritch horror emerges from the collective stain of our souls, Sam will be spared. Sam is an idyllic anthropomorphic representation of the Christian virtue of suffering in stoic silence. Sam is the indomitable will of the human spirit to survive. Sam is all of us. God bless you, Sam.

There’s more. A lot more. You can tell the developer really loves MILFs. But thankfully there are some low-fat options, too. There’s a pretty good spread of fetishes on display here. Hotdogging, thigh-jobs, arm-pit jobs, anal, facesitting, oral, multiple partners, creampies, voyerism, exhibitionism, ♥♥♥♥ worship, mutual… you know what, this just sounds like an RP profile on Fur Affinity. There’s a lot to make you happy. Or unhappy. Or maybe you don’t feel anything because you’ve been playing porn games so long the dopamine receptors in your brain look like German harbors at the tail-end of WW2.

The animations are very good. At first I thought they weren’t. They only consist of a couple frames. They’re not as smooth as some blender / sfm stuff out there - but they are detailed, and the girls rarely make faces or expressions that are alien or serve as nightmare fuel. Stuff looks suitably drippy. Breasts bounce. The girls look as good as this style of animation can - that is to say, that odd uncanny valley where everyone sort of looks like a barbie doll. But they're pretty! The SFX are a bit low-quality and what little voice acting is serviceable but not remarkable (Clare stands out as pretty good, as does Emily).

My main complaint is that as the game goes on it becomes clear the girls suffer from homogeneity when it comes to their sexual identity. All of them are up for anal, girl-on-girl, ♥♥♥-swapping — they exhibit no strong likes or dislikes. The problem is further exascerbated when the sex dialogue all starts to bleed together and the girls feel like they're part of a hive-mind controlled by an AI algorithm that generates Brazzers scripts.

Let’s talk about the game. You can spend a lot of hours on it. But make no mistake - it’s padded. There is a TON of backtracking. It’s a point and click adventure. Thankfully the dev appears to know you’re not here for the story and gives you a ‘Soul Crystal” that tells you what to do next. Mad-man logic only shows up in the optional Ancient Temple puzzles. ♥♥♥♥ those things.

As you progress you can spend all the money you got from selling vital, ancient artifacts of a mysterious culture to the CEO of Hobby Lobby on upgrades to your house. Upgrading your house impresses babes. Impressing babes lets you get them into your bedroom to use collectible Karma Sutra pages, which are basically extra sex scenes that have no dialogue or context (appropriately called “Booty Calls”). It would be cool if there was some writing for these, but there isn’t. You find new equipment as you adventure. Most of them either let you get past obstructions or make the grind for treasure less painful. My advice is advance the story quickly as money becomes more plentiful later. Or just cheat.

Look. I’m a simple man. I see booba; I like booba. As long as you’re here for “PLOT” and not plot, I think you’re going to like what’s here. Watching this guy conduct his love life is like bearing witness to a war crime - an endless stream of depravity and thoughtless self-indulgence that eventually consumes Cape Vedra whole. There comes a point where any loving God would blast the island to salt to save it from its own degeneracy; but He sits in silent inaction as the inhabitants tumble into a vortex of debauchery rivaling even the most blasphemous bacchanals of Pagan, blood-soaked Rome.

It’s worth $15. Emily is best girl. I can’t stop busting.