Every morning, the files arrive.

No one tells you where they come from.
No one tells you where they go after they are processed.

Inside the archive of Docket 13, your role is to review patient records for a forgotten psychiatric institution hidden somewhere beneath the system. Approve. Reject. Continue. The work is repetitive, mechanical, almost comforting... until the records begin changing.

Patients describe places that do not exist. Drawings appear inside sealed files. Some records reference conversations that never happened. Others contain names you swear you have already processed. At first, it feels like coincidence. Then the patients begin remembering you.

Beneath the official reports lies something hidden: confiscated sketches, erased histories, restricted notes, and fragments of a truth the institution is desperately trying to bury. The deeper you look, the more unstable the archive becomes. Records duplicate. Images distort. Entire identities vanish overnight.

The Board insists that compassion interferes with progress.
The files insist otherwise.

As the workload grows and the system tightens its grip, players must decide whether to obey the institution or quietly preserve the evidence hidden between the pages. Every action shapes the archive, alters future records, and changes what waits at the end of the thirteenth day.

Some patients are dangerous.
Some are lying.
Some are trying to warn you.