It's not exactly 'misleading advertising', but sometimes games can turn out a lot darker than what we initially thought.
After a slew of trailers and promo images, we usually think we have a decent idea of what a game is going to be like, and what the general vibe of it is.
After all, isn't that the purpose of a trailer?
On occasion though, these first glimpses purposefully omit the bits that are in there to shock you and turn it all around. A game that looks like it's about cute animals can suddenly be about a world-ending parasite. Something that looks like an anime-style puzzler following a dorky guy's pursuit of love can turn into a race against Hell itself.
There are downsides to this approach in that sometimes people don't like surprises, or more specifically, don't like the surprise your game has to offer. When done correctly though, a tone change or a different ending direction can pay off, lending the experience that extra emotional punch.
Because what's the point of a game if it doesn't absolutely ruin you emotionally??
Starting off as a bit of meta fun, with your character being sent a cracked game file to play, things soon start to descend into madness for your in-game self.
As you progress through Superhot's rollout of levels, you are warned over and over to stop playing by mysterious text prompts. Of course, as is the nature of us humans, we continue playing despite these scary words.
By the time you reach the end of the game it has all gone to hell. The game your friend sent you in the beginning is much more than a bootlegged .exe, and it all plays out as an extended bit of commentary on the horrors of consumption.
Your player character puts themselves at increasing risk, becoming completely addicted to the game; at one point they remark that they are literally unable to stop playing. They dedicate their body, their resources and their mind to the game regardless of the cost, in the end taking the irreversible step that is killing themselves to become one with the software.
It speaks to the destructive possibilities of technology and the addictive draw of games, allowing a new title to take over your life. We don't, in real life, become one with a hive mind every time we get obsessed with a new game, but the metaphor is still poignant.