Pseudo-metroidvania where you play as an only-nominally-sapient little slime creature who found the corpse of a badass deep space bounty hunter and stole their power armour. The central gimmick is that you start with what is effectively an endgame loadout, but the upgrade descriptions are all incomprehensible gibberish (because, you know, you can't read), and they're all activated by awkward and counterintuitive input sequences – imagine some of the more baroque fighting game inputs as a point of reference – which the player is unlikely to stumble upon by chance. The "upgrade progression", such as it is, consists simply of gradually revealing to the player the tools they already possess and how to activate them.
Look, I'm willing to put up with a lot from a self-consciously meta liminal spaces walking sim. The inappropriate use of ray-traced specular reflection; the clearly asset-flipped androgynous white marble statues; the corridor-that-makes-four-left-turns-without-intersecting-itself bit that was impressive when Duke Nukem 3D did it in 1996 but has since become practically expected – all this I will forgive. However, that wooden ladder I just climbed clearly made the sound of stepping on metal rungs, and this I cannot abide.