
- What lies beyond the horizon?
- The city limits. A jumble of boxes, asphalt, and filth. Somewhere there, in the shabbiest and most cramped industrial zone, in an alley between buildings, near the trash cans, on the spat-upon and dirty asphalt, lies a beaten and exhausted outer worlds. A handful of people have gathered around it.
I don't really like and almost never play RPGs or adventures. This is due to a certain set of gameplay markers which, combined with mediocre settings and plots, trigger a reaction of rejection in me. A solid portion of this set of unpleasant flags is present here: running clockwise while clicking through NPCs; mile-long dialogues heavily seasoned with setting-specific names and events; an incredibly long list of quests in the journal that makes your head spin; a complete absence of combat to somehow diversify this gloom.
However, as it turns out—one can design games well even with such elements! Who would have thought! It's enough to simply move away from the paradigm of a typical RPG for developmentally delayed people about containers, bandits, corridors, and MacGuffins.
It is enough just to:
- write some of the most, if not the most, brilliant dialogues in the entire history of role-playing games;
- simply create a world thought out to the smallest detail, while keeping it intimate enough so that scale doesn't turn into indifference and every single detail is felt closely;
- simply endow the world with life, from the tiniest environmental details to a realistic and relatable story, despite the fact that externally there is almost no trendy high-tech life simulation in it;
- simply gift it an atmosphere that initially feels hopeless and bleak, but subsequently becomes beautiful and melancholic, understandable on a sensory level to anyone who has lived in our reality; balancing, but not crossing the dangerous line from escapism to repulsive realism;
- simply populate it with several dozen characters, almost each of whom possesses not just some "character" or backstory dumped on the player for the sake of a checkbox, but is visibly written as humanly and soulfully as possible, imprinting itself in memory and making you believe in them, even if they are completely minor;
- simply come up with an interesting detective-style plot, but even here take a step aside and link the interest not so much to a "puzzle-catharsis" approach, which certainly has its advantages, but also well-known disadvantages, and overall represents a somewhat worn-out concept, but rather to a general system of story delivery—the notorious "content mastery"—which is based not on obsessing over specific plot details and piecing together the picture (despite the presence of these elements), but specifically on the enjoyment and experiences of the general aesthetic, the worldview and roleplay of the hero, the melancholic rocking in a boat on the leaden, sad, but beautiful waves of narrative and mise-en-scène;
- and yes, simply polish this with a protagonist written with no less love and feeling, and an amazing synthesis of both his fixed backstory—which, if you strip away all the fluff, fundamentally forces you to roleplay as the cop you are by plot—and simultaneously spreads a sea of freedom in roleplaying before you.
Personality traits serve as skills for leveling up here; you converse with them as if they were your own personalities, and the content you receive depends on their level: all sorts of details and additional lines in dialogues and interactions with the world. And if your specific skill is insufficient, you will never see that additional detail, interaction, or dialogue line. Furthermore, from time to time, when special conditions are met, "thoughts" become available—investigations that run automatically for a while and provide various bonuses as well as lines in dialogues/interactions. Perhaps such a description of the role-playing system sounds somewhat schizoid and amateurish, but in practice, it is implemented very atmospherically and conceptually, according to the plot and presentation. There are also the notorious stat checks (another one of my negative flags) with success chances (a negative flag for some other people); most of them can be replayed by putting a new point into the "skill" and trying again, plus there are ways to raise a skill or improve the chance of a specific stat check without direct leveling. For my part, I can say that you shouldn't sweat over stat checks violently—you will either complete them sooner or later, or most likely not complete them at all with your current build.
Alignments were also included; they are more for show here and affect almost nothing; they are divided into background, political, and personal. They were added mainly as a post-ironic joke about standard RPG templates, and in some places for a bit of flavor.
What else? You can dress like a hobo, collect and turn in bottles. You can shoot yourself. You can go insane, live under a bridge, and throw excrement at passersby. I can give two semi-important tips. First, the game has a time of day, which is not spent on ordinary running but is spent in dialogues and interactions; depending on it, most NPCs are either present at their spot or absent and unavailable until morning. Besides this, the story itself narratively nudges the player not to linger too long with the investigation. Despite this—esteemed OCD- sufferers who love clockwise loops should not panic; there is no time limit as such, and there's enough time for 100% of side content, or 90-95% if you are a complete autist. And second—it is absolutely not necessary to click through long secondary dialogues about the world's backstory at the first opportunity on the first day, reading text for an hour of real time, watching the game day turn into night and feeling the urge to drop it afterward. These stories are not mandatory, although desirable for a complete understanding of the plot, and they aren't going anywhere—it's better to pace it as is convenient for you.
Anyway—there's no real point in dwelling on the gameplay. Everything most important was described several paragraphs above: this is not so much an RPG or adventure, not so much a detective, police simulator, or a painfully ironizing tale filled with the suffering of an Eastern European developer about references to modernity, as it is a melancholic work of art, a most beautiful and conceptual masterpiece about the decay of the surrounding world, the unfathomable depths of consciousness, the miracle and horror of human existence.
I almost never give tens because I can always find something to nitpick "objectively," even if I enjoyed the content from start to finish, and I believe I should grade that way because it's "fair." If I continued to evaluate this way, I would have given a 9 or even an 8 here, because """objectively""" there is something to nitpick.
But recently I decided to revise this system and rely exclusively on my own feelings. And my feelings in this case laugh in my face at the mere thought of picking on some local trifles.







