The premise here is that we're on a giant transport ship ferrying all of humanity to a new homeworld, and it's been determined that there should be one person, a "Sandman", awake at all times to ensure the smooth running of the ship. There are twelve sandmen, each taking eight-year shifts over the course of the journey. We are the eleventh, and it looks like we may also be the weak link in the chain.
So. Could I survive a year without any human contact whatsoever? I think so. Could I survive eight? I don't know. Maybe. With access to a bunch of outlets for creativity, maybe. But I wonder why the programme described here couldn't have had a system of staggered, overlapping Sandman shifts, so each Sandman has at least one other person to talk to. Perhaps the Sandmen are chosen for their ability to get by without human contact; it's suggested by one throwaway comment that our protagonist here got the position more because of nepotism or favours owed than because of any real qualifications.
That said, it's an intriguing story, perhaps. There doesn't seem to be a lot of agency involved; I don't think the changes wrought by different choices -- even in the ending conversation with Nilo -- really make any difference to the understanding of the story. Unless you could actually change that ending? But wading through the thing again is a chore. People: if you don't have a savegame feature, at least make it easy to zip through the choices in the game, please? I dislike timed and animated effects in IF at the best of times, but when I want to poke at something near the endgame, it becomes a royal pain.
May I also say that I usually dislike being complicit in stories where anyone can see that the protagonist is going forward with a Very Bad Idea? But it appears that this is only the second game in a planned trilogy. There ought to be a sequel, presumably one in which the twelfth Sandman has to deal with the mess left behind by our protagonist here. That sounds a lot more promising. I'd almost say that this thing here is an elaborate prologue to something else.
Two eggs, sunny-side-up, on toast. The yolks are very runny, and you're liable to make a mess. Served with Tang orange juice.