Advertisement
No I’m not a Human
No I’m Not A Human is a narrative survival horror game set in a world collapsing under the weight of a mysterious invasion. Players are placed in a house surrounded by decay and silence, where survival depends on who you trust and who you keep out. The world outside is lifeless and scorched, and something has begun knocking at your door. The decisions you make—who to let in, who to question, who to turn away—shape how long you stay alive. In this world, appearances can no longer be trusted.
Listening to the Knock
Each night brings visitors, and each visitor must be evaluated. You can choose to open the door, speak through the barrier, or remain quiet. Some beg for shelter, others seem confused, and a few give no reason at all. Their voices, faces, and gestures may appear familiar—but that means nothing now. What lies beneath the surface is the true danger. The Guests are learning, and they know how to mimic.
Things to watch for:
- Familiar voices that sound slightly off
- Repeated phrases or emotional appeals
- Requests made too quickly
- Details that don’t match their story
- Behaviors that imitate the living
Making the Wrong Call
Mistakes in judgment come with a cost. Invite the wrong person in, and they may destroy your shelter from the inside. Deny help to the wrong soul, and you may lose a potential ally or crucial information. Over time, paranoia builds. Players must balance empathy with logic, risk with necessity. Tools such as interrogations and background checks become essential. Each encounter demands careful thought, and not every clue is visible. The line between human and Guest grows thin with each passing night.
Tension Without Rest
The game unfolds slowly, emphasizing dialogue, pattern recognition, and deduction. Resource management is minimal; the focus remains on human behavior and instinct. Sound plays a key role—every knock, breath, and word spoken could be a clue. There are no traditional monsters or weapons, only silence and suspicion. No I’m Not A Human builds unease not through action but through isolation and doubt. It asks whether survival is worth the cost of trust, and whether the face across the threshold is still one of your own.
Advertisement
Comments