The Worlds

Multiple alien planets. Each one is its own kind of wrong.

Where You Wake Up

Billie opens her eyes face-down at a resort bar. Head pounding. No memory of how she got there. Outside, a suburb. Sort of.

Somewhere in the universe, a group of aliens studied Earth television and concluded that suburban America is the pinnacle of human civilization. So they built one. They built houses. Kind of. Some of them are just cubes with the word “HOUSE” written on the side. The lawns are bioluminescent moss that screams when you step on it. The mailbox has teeth. The car in the driveway doesn’t have wheels. It has legs. It’s asleep.

They are very proud of what they’ve made. Correcting them is rude.

This is just the first planet.

Where You Go Next

Each world has its own look, its own music, its own creatures, and its own way of surprising you.

A space station run by robots who are absolutely certain they’re a restaurant. An asteroid field that isn’t what it seems. A world made of sound where the ground shows up when the music does. And the “sky” on that first suburb? It flickers sometimes. If you look at the horizon long enough you can see grid lines.

What you do in one place has a way of following you to the next.

Everything Has Two Sides

See a cracked wall? Grow vines over it. Climb up. Or smash it open and walk through the rubble. Both work. Neither is wrong.

A scared creature blocking your path? Calm it down and maybe it follows you home. Or scare it off and keep moving. A broken machine can be repaired or overloaded until it malfunctions in exactly the right way.

There’s always a gentle option and a violent one. Both lead somewhere you wouldn’t expect.

What Lives There

The worlds are full of things. Creatures that adapted to broken environments the way raccoons adapt to suburbs. Forgotten resort employees who have been waiting so long for guests that they forgot what their job was. Aliens who moved into fake houses and committed fully to playing suburbanite.

Some of these creatures are big. Some are small. Some are cute. Some are very much not cute. All of them have opinions about you, and none of them are shy about sharing.

The “pets” are especially wrong. A “bird” that is clearly a floating rock. A “dog” that is an insect on a leash. Their owners insist everything is normal.

The Vibe

It looks like someone drew an alien cartoon and then let you walk around inside it. Bold colors. Clean lines. Every planet has its own palette.

The music sounds like someone recorded it in their bedroom. It strips back when you’re just poking around and builds when things get intense. Sometimes a voice hums along. And then, in a game where the lawn screams, the music swells into something that actually makes you feel things.

Billie is the most normal thing on every planet. Her reactions to the insanity are half the comedy. The other half is the insanity itself.