I can't stop pondering this enigmatic new game about artificial intelligence.

It’s a Monday morning, and my day is just beginning as I organize my task list. As I review each completed task, I pause to think if I’ve played any games recently that I might want to write about. However, I can’t recall any, as my weekend was dedicated to watching wrestling and a livestream related to the Oscars with friends. But wait, did I play something? My memory is a bit foggy (probably due to excessive pizza consumption), but I start to remember a strange and puzzling game. What was it called? Centum. Was it a fever dream induced by indigestion? My Steam account says otherwise, reminding me that I embarked on a three-hour "point and click" odyssey over the weekend, amidst social gatherings. It’s not that I forgot what I played; it was just so surreal that it feels like it happened in a different life.

Centum is an enigmatic "point and click" adventure game that has been released for PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X/S, PC, and Nintendo Switch. Its premise sounds simple at its most basic level: you are a prisoner, and you must escape. The most simplified (and misleading) description I can offer is that Centum immerses players in a series of rooms where they must click and solve puzzles to free themselves. In the first room, I need to find chalk to draw a figure on a wall, deal with a rat problem, and clean a dirty window with a cloth.

However, nothing is that straightforward. The story of Centum unfolds entirely within a malfunctioning artificial intelligence software. I am trapped inside a desktop, clicking through programs and engaging in occasional mini-games between reading scattered text files. If you've ever had the misfortune of using something like Google Gemini, you know that artificial intelligence is not the most reliable narrator. It sometimes outputs distorted images and absurd data, reflecting a reality that seems familiar but is never quite correct.

While solving puzzles, I begin to engage in conversations with various strange characters who express themselves in philosophical riddles. At first, I struggle to decipher them and feel incapable of understanding what Centum is trying to communicate to me. It’s a sensation similar to when I hear academics debating philosophy, throwing out references that elude my comprehension. As I delve deeper into the game, I realize that perhaps I am not the problem; it’s the incoherent and deceitful environment surrounding me.

The real question is: who am I in all of this? That is the enigma that truly captivates me. I fear I will never understand who the prisoner I control is. I catch glimpses of his real life, one that appears to be marred by tragedies. Centum plays with me at every turn, even going so far as to change my identity at one point. My memories are confused, lost in a hallucinatory machine that has absorbed me and spat out a version of myself I scarcely recognize. There’s an unsettling horror in that experience, and the game seems to seek to reflect it through its confusing surroundings.

Days after finishing it, I am still unsure of what to think about Centum. Perhaps it is too cryptic for its own good, confusing prolonged, enigmatic writing with depth. All I know is that it currently occupies a space in my mind that few games manage to do. It’s hidden in a distant lobe, the same one responsible for my most surreal dreams. It’s a half-remembered nightmare that I try to retrieve the following morning. Centum will stay with me, albeit from a distance, which enhances its impact, as it feels like a memory slipping through my fingers. That sensation resembles what I am beginning to experience in my waking hours, as the world around me disintegrates into misinformation caused by imperfect machines.