A downloadable simulation for Windows.
Spoilers ahead
Honestly, I cannot begin to describe the profound sense of comfort and connectivity this brought me. Sodaraptor has always been my favourite indie developer since I began browsing itch.io a few years ago because of their ability to turn dark. frighteningly liminal spaces into something that provides a unique feeling of being tentatively given access to a space that is not yours, but that you have merely been allowed to view. In all of their games, every action, no matter how small, feels like it could break the world you were let into- and this game is no exception. It's haunting, beautiful, atmospheric and yet despite my worries that it would be cheapened by chase sequences or fights or something that would only serve to dampen the deeply personal nature of the experience, it instead gives the player room to experience something that has been gifted to us in an almost scarily personal way. Something subtle that I love is how the house always gives you the option to turn the lights on. Such a small detail, I feed, created a kind reassurance that whatever was in this space with me didn't want to cause harm. Not once did I feel as though the moth was a malevolent force despite the progressive and overwhelming degradation of the house. And when things felt too much, like there was someone waiting behind a corner to get me, I could always find a sense of safety in the light.
In a more individualistic way, I felt a wave of recognition in the fourth world. I have had a scarily similar dream, where I was on the edge of a seaside cliff watching as planes flew above and dropped bombs on my town that would undoubtedly end the earth. Despite the differences, world four felt like a pause on that memory, one that let me walk around and slowly realise my fears and feelings. A dream from years ago that left me shaken and unsettled for days afterwards, now presented to me by a creator who has a masterful ability to provide safety in fear. It reminded me of a small moment in in my childhood, one I had forgotten for a long time, being left in a dark room after a nightmare and being too scared to move. My mother spoke to me then, and she told me something important.
It's always okay to turn the lights on.
Thank you once again for providing an incredible experience (for free, no less) that managed to invoke such an intense reaction in me. I loved this game- to the extent that it pushed me to write a needlessly passionate review as someone who is too nervous to leave the house, let alone review anything. Thank you. Truly, thank you.
Spectacular work, as always.
