DEADLINE: Afterlife Processing Demo

THE DEMO

Welcome to the first five shifts at Station 9. Sign the contract, learn the job, and judge 30 souls under five directives. 

The dead are waiting for you, don't let them pile up. Where the line starts is not your concern. It ends at your press. 

READ THE DEAD

Every soul is a life split into three fragments, printed in amber on a terminal that's probably older than you. Some fragments are confessions. Some are alibis. Some are just what the neighbors saw. The record is all you get, and the record is rarely the whole story. 

APPLY THE DIRECTIVES

The rules are on the board. Numbered, amended, always right. Theft? Descend. Charity? Ascend. Got any questions? Consult the board. When no directive quite fits, the operator decides. Always careful.

SEAL THEIR FATE

Set the verdict. Pull the lever. The seal comes down, and the soul is paperwork now. Carry it to Disposition A or Disposition B. Gold or Red. Two exits. No appeals.

GET PAID.

Every processed soul prints a slip. Every slip is money. At the window, the catalog sells what money can buy: better boots, a faster line, upgrades for your press, machines for the parts of the job you like least. Every page of the catalog makes the next shift easier, hopefully. And there's always another page.

• Read the written lives of the dead, three fragments each.

• One room. One machine. A line with no end.

• Earn by the soul, spend on the machine. The catalog always has more.

• No health bars, no minimaps, no menus. The interface is the room: paper, machines, and ink.

• A handcrafted soundscape. Every stamp, every gear.

The line won't wait. Take your number.