Before continuing, please be aware that all of this content is made possible by the goodwill and support of my backers on Patreon. If you enjoy the work on this site, please consider supporting the creation of more content like this by clicking the button.
Welcome to our near-future dystopia… circa 2021, when a slightly haunted hospital in East London decides to audition as the setting for “Cyberpunk Tech Horror meets NHS Admin Roulette.” Spoiler: it’s not great planning, but it is fun.
We kick off in the everyday grind: Thomas Hector Schofield, or “Hex,” hits 23, expecting a birthday pint and a maybe-late-night shift at St Gart’s. Instead? His mate crashes in from a bike accident, HR’s trying to flirt him up, and an eight-foot mercenary almost runs him over in a car park. THAT is how you wake a viewer—with chaos drizzle.
From there, Ace (aka HR’s “Just McShane”) and the Doctor swirl into the picture undercover—very Doctor-lite in act one—and Hex is yanked onto the mystery ride by sheer bewilderment and charm. And oh boy, Philip Olivier’s Hex owns every clueless “Oh my God” like it’s a new national anthem. He’s curious, grounded, the “average bloke” grafted into sci-fi and that’s gold. Ace gets to nurture that vibe—big sister energy—and we feel it because she nails every sarcastic beat.
Plotwise, the hospital’s 31st floor hides Project C, where flesh-hungry Cybermen are playing Frankenstein with human organs. Cybermen who actually want to feel. To be more human. It’s almost touching—like your ex texting you “I miss feeling real, sorry.” That idea is exquisite. Then it all goes sideways—surgeries go rogue, whole hospital goes full siege mode, organs are swapped, bodies animated, and the Megan “I’m completely done” Doctor margin calls on saving the day. That’s tighter tension than your last emotional fistfight.
Where the music and sound design hit home like a techno heartbeat is next-level: cyberpunk hums, AI ambience, hospital lighting humming low, morgue chill sliding into surgical dread. It doesn’t just create the scene—it is the scene, and it makes this story pulse like a jackhammer in your skull.
But here’s the bug in the motherboard: politics. The story hinges on EU overlords colluding with Cybermen, using humans as test tubes to fuel a space-program master-plan. Thanks, post-Brexit me, for reminding me how off that aged. What once read as nuance now reads like a stale “anti-EU” PowerPoint slide. Makes me wince. They could’ve subbed out the politics, stuck the Cybermen in a shady corporate conspiracy or whatever—and it’d still work. This political shrapnel drags it down from perfection to “still solid but… ugh.”
Final Thoughts:
This story is like your favourite dark alley—scary, atmospheric, crowded with feeling, and you might not walk it again, but you’ll come back once. Hex debuts so well that you worry he’ll crash into sunlight. Ace, the Doctor, the Cybermen—they all play their parts sharp and dirty. Just wish the ideology didn’t age like milk.
Rating: 3.5 out of 5 organ-harvesting Cyberpunk hospital beats.