That is a fanscinating way to think about Interactive Fiction, especially the idea that it exists in two layers at once; the written space and the one the player mentally constructs. That split feels particularly important for something like liminal environments, where the emotional effect depends less on what is explicitly shown, and more on what is suggested or left unresolved.
What stands out to me is how this kind of design seems to challenge the usual expectations of interactivity. We often associate Interactive Fiction with meaningful choice and forward movement. but a liminal setting seems to work by withholding resolution. The player can move, explore, and make decisions, but those actions do not necessarily lead anywhere definite. Instead of empowerment, the interaction produces a kind of quiet unease or suspension.
This connects to the idea that player freedom in Interactive Fiction is always structured. Even when exploration feels open-ended, it is shaped by repetition, constraints, and design choices. In the case you are describing, those limits are not a drawback; on the contrary, they create the atmosphere. The looping spaces, subtle inconsistencies, and lack of clear purpose all contribute to that sense of disorientation.
I also think the minimalism of text plays a key role here. Because the environment is not fully visualized, the player has to actively imagine it, which makes the experience more personal, immersive, and, perhaps, more unsettling. The “emptiness“ becomes something the player fills in themselves.
I am curious whether this effect would change if the same concept were translated into a more visually detailed format. Do you think the ambiguity you are describing depends on the openness of text, or could it survive in a fully rendered medium?