It has been eleven years since I started building the world of Injection π23. Eleven years circling the same fears and the same question: what does fear do to the way we look at reality? Injection π23 Tabula Rasa is the end of that journey.

I’m a solo developer, and I’ve spent practically my whole life making music. There’s no big studio or office full of people behind Abramelin Games. The Injection π23 trilogy began as a need to put certain things in order, and it ended up becoming a love letter to classic survival horror.

Tabula Rasa is the third and final chapter. It’s the point where everything I’ve been hinting at for years – in the two previous games, in the symbols, in the imagery – finally comes into focus. It closes a loop.

The setting of the game is not invented. It’s based on a real town where I’ve lived, with its slopes, plazas, narrow streets and corners that only truly make sense once you’ve walked them many times. In Tabula Rasa I tried to recreate that feeling of being in a specific place, not just on a generic map.

First, I rebuilt it as faithfully as I could. Then I started to deform it. The town you explore in the game is a mixture of reality and altered perception: recognizable buildings twisted by anxiety, everyday spaces turned hostile, places that should feel safe and here feel profoundly strange. Walking through Injection π23 means walking through a mind contaminated by fear.

On the surface, Tabula Rasa looks like a story about symbols, experiments and hidden societies. There are codes, geometric figures, references to mind control and power structures working in the shadows. The protagonist’s mind is trying to give shape to something that is, deep down, much more mundane and painful.

It’s a story about broken trust. About what happens when the mind decides the world is too dangerous to look at directly, and builds a system of symbols and threats just to keep going. Two ways of looking at the same reality are constantly colliding: one tries to protect itself, the other refuses to keep hiding the wound.

In the middle of all this noise there is a presence that doesn’t need symbols or speeches, or emotional prosthetics like the smile on the character’s shirt.

Joy, the protagonist’s dog, is the emotional thread that runs through the entire trilogy. He represents a clean bond, a safe place to retreat to when everything else has fallen apart. Joy is the center of a small world the protagonist refuses to let go of.

In terms of gameplay, Injection π23 Tabula Rasa is aimed at players who miss a certain kind of classic survival horror – the kind of game where moving slowly isn’t a flaw, but a design choice.

There is careful exploration, limited resources to manage, puzzles that rely on the environment, and encounters that don’t try to make you feel powerful, but vulnerable. The game trusts that you can find your own way: there’s no giant arrow telling you where to go every second, and getting a little lost is part of the experience.

At the same time, I’ve tried to keep that classic feeling from becoming an unnecessary barrier. Movement has weight, but the controls respond the way you expect from a modern game. The camera offers options so each player can find a comfortable balance between tension and playability. On Xbox Series X|S, the goal has been to use the hardware to deliver smooth performance, a clean image and very short load times, without betraying the slow rhythm the genre needs.

Puzzles are another important part of the design. Some are necessary to progress; others exist only for players who enjoy staring at a symbol, a number or a strange pattern on a wall until it finally clicks.

There are visible layers – locks, mechanisms, combinations – and more hidden layers that connect different areas of the game, and even different entries in the trilogy. There are multiple endings, secrets for players who search every corner, and small clues scattered around for those who want to build their own mental map of the Injection π23 universe.

You don’t have to solve everything to complete the main story. But if you like sharing theories, taking notes, comparing details with other players and looking for a larger meaning in all the loose pieces, Tabula Rasa is built to reward that kind of obsession.

This game doesn’t try to appeal to everyone.

If you’re drawn to games like the early Silent Hill titles, classic Resident Evil, or that kind of horror that takes its time, you’ll probably find something here that resonates: heavy atmosphere, slow pacing, spaces that stay with you, and a story that doesn’t hand you every answer.

If, on the other hand, what you’re looking for is constant action, very clear on-screen instructions and an experience that never pushes you out of your comfort zone, Tabula Rasa might not be the best fit for you. And that’s okay. This game aims for a different kind of experience: more introspective, stranger, and sometimes more uncomfortable.

I can’t tell anyone how they should interpret what they’re going to see on screen. You will bring your own story, your own way of looking at the world. All I can offer is an honest space, built with patience and a clinical obsession with detail, for you to walk through at your own pace.

When Injection π23 Tabula Rasa comes to Xbox Series X|S, I hope that as you walk through this town you don’t feel like you’re just moving through a map. I hope it feels like stepping into a place someone has been trying to understand for a very long time – and that, in some way, that attempt connects with something in you too. Injection π23 Tabula Rasa is available today on Xbox Series X|S.