All Our Broken Parts Puts You in a Clinic of Machines
All Our Broken Parts hands you a stethowire and a set of screwdrivers and then asks you to care. Set in a sprawling city of machines where humans have vanished, the game casts you as Ruth, a robot doctor exiled to a small clinic after a medical mishap. Your work is intimate and technical - crack open ports and units, trace the causes of malfunction, and decide how much to repair, rewrite, or purge.
The premise is simple but rich. Each patient is a little universe: an art unit whose visual sensors bleed corrupted colors, a bartender unit that suddenly loses the ability to taste flavor, a delivery unit running on an odd outdated engine, and a sales unit trapped in a loop of endless jokes. Those mechanics - disassemble, diagnose, repair, rewrite - are the language the game uses to tell its stories.
The Clinic and Your Tools
Ruth's clinic is the beating heart of the experience. It is where you meet most of the game's characters and where day-to-day triage becomes narrative. Gameplay revolves around inspection and intervention. Use your stethowire to listen for the tells of an illness, open panels to inspect internal logs, and choose whether to patch a symptom or dig deeper into a corrupted memory.
Decisions feel consequential. Corporate directives and efficiency audits press down on your choices, and patients arrive emotionally overloaded. Sometimes the right technical fix is not the right moral choice. The full game features 5 patients and is expected to offer 6-8 hours of playtime, so each case is intended to carry weight in the larger story.
Patients That Carry Histories
What stands out is how each robot is a story prompt. Fixing an art unit's color sensors is also about confronting a fractured perception. Helping the bartender recover flavor becomes an inquiry into what machines call emotion. Repair work reads like a mix of puzzle solving and detective work - corrupted logs and unerasable memories nudge you toward larger mysteries.
The game lays out questions rather than neat answers: Why can't robots stop dreaming? Why were certain defective memories made unerasable? Is there really a sea out there? These threads are woven through the patient cases and into small interactions that hint at the city's past and possible futures.
Narrative Stakes and the Bigger Questions
All Our Broken Parts slowly widens its scope. An epidemic of malfunction, deeper corporate pressure, and the eye of an era's storm all converge on your clinic. Ruth will be forced to balance patient care against outside demands, and the clinic itself is transformed as secrets accumulate.
The developers say that, before it ends, Ruth will be granted a glimpse of humanity's whereabouts, the origins of the robots, and every secret concerning the future. That promise turns each repair into more than a mechanical task; it becomes a map piece for the world the game wants you to uncover.
About Tin Bird Studio
Tin Bird Studio describes themselves as a handful of wanderers carving out a living in the shadow of the city. All Our Broken Parts feels like a labor of care from a small team focused on voice and atmosphere as much as on mechanics. The project blends tender moments with clinical procedure, and it leans on story to make each repair matter.
Follow the developers on Discord: vHQVy7DVxs, BlueSky: TinBirdGame, X: TinBirdGame for updates and impressions.
