You are an emulated personality. In short, a robot with the mind of a human uploaded on your wetware to become... A person, of sorts. To become like this you had to commit a rather grim act of selling yourself wholesale to a corporation. A corporation that controls your very right to be alive, as the crucial substance needed to keep you operational is entirely supplied by them. Rough. Your new body might have some advantages - sturdy frame, resistance to pain, ability to survive in harsher environs... All that might matter, if not for the fact that you're an escapee from your contractual obligation. A runner. A sleeper.
Now you find yourself on a ramshackle, falling-apart space station; Erlin's Eye. A station floating on the edge of a system succumbed to chaos. Abandoned by the corpos, left to the hands of vagabonds, daring-doers, and unsavory elements who yearn for the rarest of commodities - Freedom.
This is the world of CITIZEN SLEEPER - a hardline, story-driven adventure in a high-tech cyberpunk dystopian future. It is a very tight narrative, an RPG with no customization, no great freedom of movement or exploration, but a firm focus on a story it wants to tell. At its best, it delivers riveting writing, likable characters you root for, and a sense of purpose to your actions. At its worst, it feels more like a movie, a story so firmly bound to its rails that once in a while when you peer behind the surface you notice that your decisions, ultimately, do not matter that much - nothing will divert this ride from its plot points.
The question will be, how much do you care that you're being led into the narrative without control in your hands when it is written so well? The world is interesting, if grim, cold, and alienating. The struggles feel real, and the systems in place are well-designed to make you feel the looming threats - even if in the end they might not end up the way you imagine. At first, your failing body and chasing dangers give a very immediate sense of danger. A tangible goal that must be check-marked to progress. This gives drive to your actions - each rolled dice feels valuable, and each decision feels important.
As the story progresses, however, and you free yourself more and more from the shackles of restrictions, the game at the same time loses its edge but gains a lot of depth. Now you can pursue your new goals - your Drives, the in-game motivators behind your actions. This becomes a bit more casual, and no amount of tense writing can overcome the fact that with plentiful dice, rerolls, and high skills the whole action system becomes more of an afterthought. A hindrance, even - something that stops me from exploring the little stories. It's a bit of a shame because the mechanics are pretty cleverly made - you need your high rolls to succeed in your actions. But the low rolls are needed as well, fuelling your other layer of gameplay - the journey through the station systems, the cyberspace. But as I mentioned, with enough skills and upgrades the rolls lose their importance - most anything will do if your modifiers can carry you through.
Despite this flaw, I had a blast with this game. It feels intimate, in a way - the station is small, tightly woven in the cold vastness of the cosmic void. The communities and people you meet feel very much alive - well-written, well-drawn, sculpted beings with their goals, agendas, dreams... And you becoming a part of their stories is the fuel that keeps the wheels rolling. If reading lots and lots of text is exactly up your alley be sure to check this one out - before the sequel gets into our hands by 2025.
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