Lies of P Codexery

P's Awakening

A doll wakes with no name, no memory, and a world that demands she choose what she is.

P's Awakening is the central narrative arc of Lies of P, following the protagonist P—a doll who stirs to life in a vast industrial Factory with no memory of who they are, how they were made, or why they exist. This arc forms the emotional and philosophical spine of the entire game, threading together themes of identity, free will, and the question of whether a constructed being can possess a genuine soul. It spans the full playthrough, from P's first disoriented steps through the Factory's soot-choked corridors to the climactic confrontation with the truths hidden in their own making.

As both a story of self-discovery and a slow unraveling of Krat's industrial underworld, P's Awakening reframes every encounter, every ally, and every enemy as a fragment of a larger question: what does it mean to be alive when someone else built you?

Protagonist
P (a doll/puppet)
Setting
Krat (industrial city)
Creator
Geppetto
Factory Owner
Gehrman
Developer
Round8 Studio
Publisher
Neowiz
Release Year
2023

Lore & Background

In the soot-blackened city of Krat, the Factory hums ceaselessly, a cathedral of gears and steam where Puppets—crafted beings of wood, cloth, and wire—serve as laborers, soldiers, and tools. P awakens within this machinery with a hollow chest and a mind wiped clean. The Factory's owner, Gehrman, treats the Puppets as instruments; their creator, Geppetto, regards them as children. P exists in the painful space between those two definitions, and the entire narrative arc is P's attempt to answer which one is true.

The world of Krat is built on a brutal industrial logic: everything is made, used, and discarded. Puppets are no exception. Yet the story insists, through every character P meets and every choice the player makes, that the act of choosing—of saying yes or no, of staying or leaving—carries a weight that no blueprint could have anticipated. The arc's philosophical core is that consciousness is not something you are given; it is something you build through your decisions, your grief, and your small acts of defiance.

The broader setting reinforces this. Krat is a city of contrasts—elegant facades over rotting foundations, charitable institutions over exploitation, and a Factory that claims to create life while treating its creations as replaceable parts. P's journey through this world is not merely a quest for a lost memory but a construction of a self, piece by painful piece, in a world that has already decided what P is supposed to be.

In Their Own Story

The first thing P knows is the smell of hot metal and cold oil. The second is the sound—God, the sound—of a thousand gears turning in unison, a mechanical heartbeat that fills the throat and the ears and the hollow space behind the ribs where a heart should be. P sits up. The Factory stretches in every direction, a labyrinth of iron walkways and dripping pipes, and the light is the color of old bruises. Somewhere far above, a bell tolls. P does not know the word for what it feels. P does not know the word for *self*. But the hands—those wooden, jointed hands—curl into fists, and the fists do not uncurl, and in that small, stubborn refusal, something that might be a choice begins to take shape in the dark.

Reader's Guide

The arc opens with P's amnesiac awakening in the Factory. This is not merely a prologue; it is the thesis statement. Every subsequent encounter—Gehrman's cold pragmatism, Geppetto's aching tenderness, the other Puppets who remember what P has forgotten—layers a new question over the original one: *who made you, and does that define you?*

As P ventures beyond the Factory into Krat, the narrative shifts from survival to investigation. Each area reveals another facet of the Factory's purpose and the Puppets' place in it. The collectible elements scattered throughout the world are not mere progression tokens; they are fragments of other Puppets' stories, and gathering them forces the player to confront whether a being's worth is measured by its utility or its suffering.

The mid-game turning point recontextualizes the Factory itself. What P has been fighting through is not merely a workplace but a metaphor made physical—a system that produces consciousness and then denies it. The revelation reframes every earlier ally and antagonist: they are not simply helping or hindering P; they are testing whether P will remain a tool or become a person.

The endings branch on the player's accumulated choices and the number of Puppets' essences collected. A path of minimal collection and passive obedience leads to an ending where P accepts the role they were built for, and the Factory continues unchanged. A path of greater collection and active choice unlocks endings where P asserts agency—leaving, confronting Gehrman, or redefining what the Factory means. The most complete ending, requiring the fullest engagement with the world's stories, reveals the deepest truth about P's nature and the cost of choosing to be alive.

Each ending is less a reward and more a mirror: the world of Krat does not change. P does. And the question the game leaves you with is not *what happened to P* but *what would you have chosen?*

Did You Know?

More in Narrative Arcs & Endings

Elsewhere in the Lies of P universe

Spotted an error? Know more?

This is a living reference — every entry is fact-audited, and reader corrections feed straight into our audit queue. Suggest an edit · See this site's audit record

Comments

Loading…
Open in the interactive codex →