The 3d graphics are cool – and anchoring the visuals so firmly to the protagonist's point of view makes the story feel pleasantly grounded – even if the game's ambitions sort of exceed what it (and the engine) can pull off. Compression artifacts and the screen flashing quickly as a video loads break the illusion, so to speak, and it's not hard to see what you lose by not actually rendering the scene in real time: outside of the nice animations, it's jarring how static everything looks. Cal's expression not changing a lot is particularly unfortunate. I think it's one of those cases where pushing fidelity forward in one direction makes everything left behind come off as a bit janky in contrast.
The story is a nice read for what it is, although the lack of conflict, drama, action, and even really events does give me a slight pause. I do admire its willingness to push aside all the usual cliches related to robots in fiction, and bypassing the "can robots feel love?" question is an especially inspired choice.
As a result, though, I feel like the plot risks feeling like something existing in this room only, with the larger world our characters inhabit only a suggestion. The bits we get of the protagonist's backstory are not a bad articulation of the "robots as the dispossessed, disposable other" metaphor, but all that feels so external to what's happening in the present-moment storyline that it only adds to the disconnect. I think the catharsis of finding a sanctuary and the tension of whether a romance will work out just don't really materialize here, leaving little to latch onto.