BrokenLore: Don’t Watch

BrokenLore: Don’t Watch places the player in a confined apartment, where space is limited but tension constantly builds. You step into the role of Shinji, a recluse disconnected from society and drowning in anxiety. The game unfolds entirely within his apartment, but the boundaries between reality, memory, and hallucination blur quickly. Each object becomes suspicious, each sound loaded with uncertainty. There are no tutorials—only a laptop, flickering lights, and the quiet realization that something is always watching.

A Mind in Collapse

Gameplay is focused on psychological descent. Players interact with the environment piece by piece: opening drawers, checking notifications, clicking through strange messages on the laptop. The more you explore, the more the apartment reacts—walls bend, shadows linger, and objects appear where they shouldn’t. What seems like a simulation of loneliness soon twists into a surreal confrontation with something hidden in the space between thoughts. The entity known as Hyakume doesn’t chase—it waits.

What Defines the Core Experience

• First-person exploration with heavy narrative focus
• Minimal UI and slow-paced environmental interaction
• Dynamic horror based on player choices and sequence
• Audio and visual effects tied to psychological state
• A looping narrative with shifting outcomes

Digital Isolation and Hidden Signals

The laptop is the only consistent element—your interface with emails, games within the game, and messages that may or may not be real. It offers information, distractions, or threats depending on when and how it’s used. Some players will find corrupted files or glitching interfaces, while others may trigger direct confrontations. The horror doesn’t rely on jump scares but creeps in through distortion and the unreliability of your own perception.

A Game That Watches Back

BrokenLore: Don’t Watch doesn’t tell you how to win—it questions why you’re still playing. The further you dig, the more fragmented the experience becomes. Screens twist, words repeat, and sounds return in unfamiliar patterns. There’s no escape sequence, no final boss. There is only the growing sense that something has seen everything you’ve done—and it’s no longer just watching. It’s remembering.