You come to at a table in an old cabin. Across from you sits someone with glowing eyes, offering to play cards. The rules are simple: build a deck of forest creatures, sacrifice the weak to summon the strong. Lose and you die.

But between rounds, you realize you can stand up. The room has a cuckoo clock, an old safe, locked drawers, and paintings that seem to watch you. Some cards begin to whisper. They ask for help, warn of danger, or hint at how to open the next door.

The deeper you go, the more the line between game and reality blurs. The rules shift, the world cracks at the seams, and the answers you seek keep slipping away, leaving only new questions in their place. Because the point here isn't to win. The point is to escape.