Rubicon ISS

ABOUT THE GAME

The station floats in dead quiet, a metal tomb circling the edge of the abyss. You slam the override. The Rubicon is behind you—there’s no return.

Life support drops to a strained murmur. Red lights throb. One by one, the crew wake from cryo: skin burning with returning blood, eyes wild, muscles screaming after months locked in ice.
Engineer Kira comes first—oil-streaked curves rising and falling as she slams you against the wall, zero gravity letting her ride you endlessly, her body gripping tight as the two of you spin.

Then Scientist Lena—neural link engaged, her pleasure flooding your mind, synchronized climaxes tearing through shared consciousness as strands of code coil around your senses and leave them raw.

The AI takes form next, a hologram melting into warm, slick flesh. She saturates the halls with pheromones, drags you into vents for choking pulls, takes you from behind as you tumble weightless, stars smearing past in brilliant lines.

The rupture grows. Sirens wail like lovers. In the captain’s quarters, all of them pile onto you—slick bodies knotted together, limbs everywhere, release drifting in shining clouds like newborn galaxies.

Every space is filled, every movement reverberates through the emptiness.
The Rubicon was never a boundary. It was ignition. Now the station is ablaze from within—nothing but relentless, infinite fire.