In less than thirty minutes and without a single word, this game throws you into a grey, lonely world where communication feels like a distant fantasy, an illusion lost in the fog.
Some say it’s like Limbo, but that comparison feels too big. Or at least, too empty.




The mechanic of listening to signals and tuning them to move forward isn’t badly designed.
But when you finish the game and realize you have no idea what you did or why,
the feeling left behind isn’t awe.
It’s disconnection.




Here’s where the game shines.
Antenna looks and sounds like an industrial poem.
The visual design is minimalist but thoughtful: rusted machines, broken landscapes, antennas rising like skeletons reaching for the sky.

And the sound… the sound is art.
Each tone, each bit of static, each vibration feels like it’s coming from an abandoned radio at the end of the world.
In that sense, the game builds an atmosphere that draws you in.
Even if it never tells you why.

But of course, an atmosphere without purpose is just decoration.
And that’s what hurts.




I didn’t understand anything.
And not because I wasn’t paying attention.
There’s no text. No context. Nothing.




It’s a sensory experience that fails to connect with the player.
And while I can appreciate its aesthetic and sound design, I can’t recommend it wholeheartedly.

It’s one of those titles that leaves you with more questions than answers.
But not the interesting kind of questions.
More like:

“Why did I play this?”
“What was it trying to tell me?”
“And why didn’t it tell me anything?”

REALLY FUN FOR A SHORT FREEBIE GAME