"FILTERED". My fingers dance across my offensively bright RGB mechanical keyboard. I have have typed this word and ones similar to it a thousand times. My index finger, which has become abnormally strong from repeatedly mashing R1, spins my Razer Deathadder V2 Gaming Mouse's wheel, as my bloodshot eyes do an occular assessment of various forums and web pages. I vanquish my foes in just a few characters, one by one.

My eyes then turn to the semen-encrusted poster of Miyazaki that looms above me. I am bathed in his enrapturing presence as our gazes lock. I whisper "They shall not hurt you, my beloved. They shall not defile your honor and go unpunished."

I return to my solemn duty...

Signalis found a part of me I didn't think I had.

It may not be revolutionary as far as some people are concerned, but it sure is the closest thing we've had to an excellent survival horror game in recent memory.

So much of this game works because of Signalis' eerie atmosphere and in media res-type storytelling. We know as much as ELSTER going into this adventure, and that's precisely all we need to start to piece it together. The game can blatantly show us spoilers, and we won't even know it yet.

On that same note, the same scene can serve multiple purposes throughout revisiting these core memories. A one-off conversation with a Replika can have so many more implications than expected. (I'm looking at you, KLBR unit.)

This theme is mirrored in its themes too. Classical music references and great paintings add more meaning to the scenes, and mathematical and scientific names peel back more of the onion.

It's just beautiful.

ELSTER's experience mirrors us, the player, when the experiences are balanced on replayability and how much the game is willing to tip its plot-dense hand. There's a lot to dive into here, in only the best way.

We may not know what we're looking at initially, but it shall become clear.


The gameplay provides another layer to this cake. The fusion of an orthographic take on the survival horror genre plus the fascinating first-person segments creates an increasingly promising premise that I never knew I wanted.

From the first moments I was stunned, it just felt so right that I wondered why I hadn't seen it before. We need more orthographic horror.

There's also so much here that's a tribute to its predecessors: It can feel like an old-school Silent Hill or Resident Evil without the feeling of "car" or "tank" controls. That is truly beautiful.

At the same time, the inspirations run deep as the game paints a presentation of true psychological torment and emotional duress that is all too rarely presented these days.

It's always a challenge to juggle gameplay regarding inventory management. You have to walk a fine line to make a player genuinely fear while not overly frustrating or letting them slip by with guns galore. Sadly, I couldn't find that fine line for my experience, but I was so engulfed and enamored with everything else I hardly noticed until my second playthrough.

In retrospect, the boss fights were reasonably straightforward, but at the moment I didn't know that. I was so deep into the game's lore I feared I didn't have enough to survive.

Signalis also returns to the classic puzzle system of Resident Evils of yesteryear in only the best ways. Each puzzle feels directly lifted from one of those games while never feeling too out of place.

I never felt like a puzzle was unsolvable, and with enough retracing of my steps, I'd be able to figure out what I did wrong. It never felt like it was me against the game; instead, the levels revealed what I needed as I needed it.

There's only so much I can say without divulging spoilers. What I do know for almost sure: this will probably be my game of the year. It's that well done.

No matter what, I eagerly await whatever rose-engine does next, even if it takes another eight years. Bravo.



I also apparently forgot to mention how it is wonderful to see a sapphic horror game. Power to the player, we love to see it.