When the most ruthless interrogator is your own guilt
Graham wakes up in a room with no doors, no windows, and only one demand whispered on Confess. He doesn't know why he's there. He doesn't know what he's supposed to admit. All he knows is that the cube is shrinking—and it won’t stop until he confesses.
What begins as a surreal puzzle becomes a claustrophobic descent into memory, denial, and accountability. As the walls close in, Graham is forced to confront every lie he’s ever told, every shortcut he's ever taken, and the one decision he swore he’d never think about again.