Kinda haunting. Like it's reminiscent of something intimate and familiar and I just can't place it. Really good if you enjoy writing that I think occasionally approaches a purple-like tint (lavender?), but doesn't quite overstep.

It's nice to stroll through a sprawling environment that doesn't demand violence. Gorgeous scenery dotted with ambitious and largely effective character work.

Reminds me a little of Betrayer from 2014. Striking aesthetic and competently designed, if just a little repetitive.

More than anything it instills a sense of place. The planet has a distinct, palpable history; it's seen life and death in equal measure. Environmental storytelling isn't novel, but I'm guessing it'll always hit the spot for me. Games are at their best when they allow the space to speak for itself.

All Tölva needs is a good listener.

(warning: kinda revealing on protagonist's role in the story, more implication than explicit, but)

An audio-visual masterpiece. The environments are gorgeous, so layered in scope. It's a pleasure to blast through the world, and even if the combat is a touch rote by the end, you can feel the effort and see the competent hands at work in every frame.

... I don't like the writing very much. I find myself longing for how muted Hyper Light Drifter was. I don't mind all of it. I mostly liked—if not loved—the performances, the secondary characters, the interstitials.

But the scattered storytelling afforded by audio logs you can technically collect in any order is genuinely a baffling choice. It necessitates an oblivious protagonist, at least as it's been executed here, and I had so much trouble connecting with Rei because of it. Her musings and observations are almost entirely divorced from the context of all the other things she's witnessed.

It's real armchair designer shit, but what this means to me is that she's not allowed to doubt her purpose. She's not allowed to sincerely interrogate what she's learning. She's accumulating discrete pieces of information, seemingly helpless to construct the bigger picture. Given the fraught nature of her mission, experiencing serious doubt about what's happening here is not only a sensible reaction, it's a prerequisite for a person to be believable.

I don't think it's a compelling way to frame your main character. I kept wanting Rei to follow a thought. You know? Like how you have a thought, and it establishes a chain of successive thoughts that leads you to something resembling a conclusion? You know, right? It's that thing people do. Even if it's a hassle sometimes, we more or less can't help it. She doesn't do that. Just flailing at an attempt would be enough.

She feels like a victim of the structure, a storyteller's pawn, not a person who makes choices.

And... even if there's an overriding reason for why she hardly ever reaches any conclusions, and she's simply deluding herself, I never got the sense that she's struggling with that delusion. I'd get it. I can understand what's going on, she can ignore the obvious, embroiled in that struggle. But that requires her to struggle.

Despite how overwhelmingly critical that all was, I did enjoy the game. It's worth playing just to see the space they've crafted. It's fantastic.