Signalis is refreshingly compact compared to sprawling open worlds. An 8–12 hour main run is realistic for most players, which fits neatly into a few weeks at 5–10 hours a week. The structure—small hubs of rooms tied together by puzzles and keys—means you make real progress in each session. Save rooms serve as both storage and checkpoints, creating natural “one more loop, then stop” boundaries. The main catch is that the game isn’t ideal for very short bursts. If you only have 20 minutes, you might not reach the next save, or you could stop mid-puzzle and forget details later. You can fully pause, so emergencies are fine, but planned play goes best when you can spare 60–90 minutes. Coming back after a week or two off is manageable, though you’ll likely spend a few minutes re-reading notes and re-learning where your keys and locked doors are.

Playing Signalis feels like sitting down with a dense, eerie puzzle box. It wants a good chunk of your attention, not because it’s mechanically complex, but because you’re always tracking a lot of small details. You’re reading memos for door codes, studying the map to remember which room had that locked cabinet, and deciding what to carry in your six-slot inventory. Combat is slower than most modern action games, so you rarely need lightning-fast reactions, yet you do need to pay attention to sound cues and tight corridors. Many of the most important moments happen in menus or static screens, tuning a radio or matching images. If you try to multitask or half-watch a show, you’ll likely forget clues, waste resources, or get turned around. The game asks for steady, quiet focus and rewards you with satisfying “aha” moments when puzzles click and routes line up neatly in your head.

You can get comfortable with Signalis surprisingly fast. Movement, shooting, and basic interaction are straightforward, especially if you’ve ever played classic survival horror. Within the first couple of hours you’ll understand how saving, storage, and basic puzzles work. The real learning happens as you internalize the game’s logic: how it hides clues in documents, how radio puzzles operate, and how enemy behavior and room layouts interact. Over a first playthrough you naturally become better at conserving ammo, choosing when to fight, and planning loops that hit several objectives at once. For most busy adults, that level of mastery is enough to feel competent and satisfied. If you choose to replay, your knowledge of puzzles and routes lets you move much more efficiently and chase different endings, which can be rewarding but isn’t required. The game respects that you may only want to “get good enough,” and still makes that feel meaningful.

Signalis delivers a slow, building intensity rather than wall-to-wall jump scares. The mood is bleak, lonely, and unsettling, with body horror and psychological themes that can stick with you after you stop playing. On top of that, the game can be genuinely tough. Enemies hit hard, healing items are scarce, and saving only at terminals means a bad run might cost you a meaningful chunk of progress. That combination of vulnerability and loss risk keeps your shoulders tight and your heart rate a bit higher than usual. However, fights are manageable once you learn patterns, and the game rarely demands frame-perfect reactions. It’s more about the stress of not knowing if you have enough ammo to make it to the next safe room than about juggling impossible mechanics. Expect a tense, draining experience in a good way, but one that may be too emotionally heavy if you’re already stressed from work or life.