Puzzles are generally environmental and tactile rather than abstract math problems. Locks are tied to observation—matching labels, following cable runs, interpreting worn notes—so the player’s attention to the environment is the primary currency. This design choice keeps immersion intact: solving feels like deducing rather than guessing. The writing in 0.41a is fragmentary by design: lab notebooks, whispered audio logs, and damaged reports. Instead of spoon-feeding lore, the build hands you scraps and trusts you to stitch them together. The emotional beats land because they feel like residue—small human details (a scribbled reminder to feed an experiment, a coffee-stained dedication) humanize the sterile research setting.