Meet Dimon. In his dreams, he's an unrecognized philosopher, the terror of the neighborhood, and the frontman of an underground metal band. In reality, he's a skinny guy in a washed-out hoodie, three days into a starvation diet, desperately trying to remember where his late buddy Seryoga hid his last pack of chicken-flavored noodles.
The verdict of his starving friends was harsh but fair: "Time to straighten out some sense." A brief encounter with a flying stool sends Dimon into a deep stupor, right on the other side of reality. Destination: Hell.
Everything would be fine: warmth from free boilers, no utilities, and eternal peace. But there's one problem with the taste of chicken broth. It was here, in the bureaucratic depths of Hell, that treasured pack somehow mysteriously disappeared.
You have less than 24 hours to find the "artifact," outsmart the Demon-Watchman, survive the endless line to see the Receptionist, and return to your body before your friends bury you under the lilac tree outside your building.
KEY FEATURES:
• The CIS version of Hell we deserve: Forget about rivers of sulfur. The real underworld is made up of clinics with perpetual lunches, thugs squatting, and elevators scarier than a cauldron full of sinners.
• Entrance Logic: To solve the puzzles here, you'll have to think not like a normal person, but like Dimon. Absurdity, bureaucracy, and a pinch of arrogance are your main weapons.
• Time is ticking: The clock is ticking! Your physical body is freezing, and the boys are already looking for a shovel. A race against time atmosphere, where sacred Doshirak and your own life are at stake. • Unique characters: The local inhabitants are more frightening than Satan. Outsmart the demon-dealer Ashot at shell game, negotiate with the three-headed Cerberus, and find a way to approach Baba Nyura, the final boss of this panel purgatory.
• No choice: Every decision you make leads either to the coveted noodles or to death by laughter, a stool, or the embrace of the muscle-bound succubi.
You must navigate all seven circles of bureaucratic Hell to prove: home is where they're waiting for you with boiling water and a stool.