About us
One of us builds the game alone: the code, the 3D, the sound and the music. One designs the paperwork. One answers your messages. One tells the world about it.
DEADLINE: Afterlife Processing is our first game.
Your post is Station 9. The dead are waiting for you, don’t let them pile up. Where the line starts is not your concern. It ends at your press.
Every soul is a life split into three fragments, printed in amber on a terminal that’s probably older than you. Some fragments are confessions. Some are alibis. Some are just what the neighbors saw. The record is all you get, and the record is rarely the whole story.
The rules are on the board. Numbered, amended, always right. Theft? Descend. Charity? Ascend. Got any questions? Consult the board. When no directive quite fits, the operator decides. Always careful.
Set the verdict. Pull the lever. The seal comes down, and the soul is paperwork now. Carry it to Disposition A or Disposition B. Gold or Red. Two exits. No appeals.
Every processed soul prints a slip. Every slip is money. At the window, the catalog sells what money can buy: better boots, a faster line, upgrades for your press, machines for the parts of the job you like least. Every page of the catalog makes the next shift easier, hopefully. And there’s always another page.
Coming soon
One of us builds the game alone: the code, the 3D, the sound and the music. One designs the paperwork. One answers your messages. One tells the world about it.
DEADLINE: Afterlife Processing is our first game.
© 2026 DEADLINE: Afterlife Processing