The Indie Informer

Eldritch Empathy — no longer a working title — is a scientific journey for knowledge we mortals shouldn’t even know exists. The very act of observation threatens to crack my fragile sanity and, with it, my entire world. Slowly losing my mind or not, the void is gazing unblinkingly back, bidding me to understand its call.

Though the game has changed since I first saw a very early version back at GDC, its twist on the Lovecraftian formula remains completely enthralling. For one, it has no combat — though violence is always a last resort. Instead, the game forces players to stand against the cosmos’ most incomprehensible horrors armed only with the scientific method.

Ida, a jealous but professional research, shakes me from a waking nightmare. A looming presences speaks, but I don’t have the ears to hear it. It’s umbral form threatens to engulf my inconsequential form, and everything I know with it. I have the vague sense that if I can comprehend this otherworldly behemoth, I can avoid a terrible fate.

It’s just a dream, but what’s the difference anymore? Ida, irritated that my unconscious body lies sprawled out in her research lab, halfheartedly thanks me — an unworthy amatuer — for my help interfacing with the Eldritch horrors which have invaded Earth. Her giddiness seemingly unsuitable for the dangers we face. However, she is the one offering me the tools I need to translate my dark visions.

My arsenal is filled with academic weapons — and, I guess, a gun. Chief among these is my notebook, which records various unfamiliar symbols. Next to these is a bar, often labeled with an emotion. The one that looks like the head of a grappling hook, for example, is paired with a bar classified as anxious. The bar is about halfway filled. I won’t know exactly how to read this until going into the field though.

The notebook also indicates my current sanity is at one hundred percent — that’s not worrisome at all — and has space for my total ammo count, number of resources, and a skill tree. Much of the tree is bare for this demo, showing me things like Bronze and Silver tongue upgrades and an ability symbolized by an olive branch called “Apology.” I don’t have what I need to increase anything, so I wander outside.

Unexpectedly, the village beyond the door is lovely. Its inhabitants however, they run the gamut. Robert waxes poetic on the nature of fear and his past experience befriending a “scary hag” who turned out to be just a nice, if lonely, old lady. Ironically, the old lady just beyond him isn’t terrible nice. She, huh, kind freaks me out actually, as her brain seems to bend to the Eldritch influence around us. And the fair Livia is straight up all for murder. These are the people I’m protecting.

Mostly, I push forward toward the wilderness for Robert. Robert’s awesome and if anything creepy happens with him I will not handle it well. As I trudge to the village’s edge, I take a moment to admire the atmospheric landscape. Pixel underbrush and trees grow in the shadow of the foreground, blotting me out occasionally and creating an illusion of 3D space in what is otherwise a 2D side scroller.

One step out of the protected perimeter, a branching overworld map scattered with distinct tokens manifests. The three encounters I can make out include monster, narrative, and resource experiences. My first stop is with a monster, where I get time to slowly get acquainted with my scientific tools and how best to use them to pass by unharmed.

Half the screen is dominated by the creature’s “emotional landscape.” This is a kind of map with words like Anxious, Happy, Excited, etc. One the other half of my screen are my notes, theorems, and measuring tools. A kind of pre-recorded bestiary cues me in to what kind of horror I’m attempting to engage — categories including small or large, cosmic or Abyssal. My theorems then provide me with a step-by-step of how to interpret its needs.

As we all know, large or extra large abominations give the best results when anxious. So I head over the that grappling hook-looking symbol and plop it down in from of the beast. As a result, a golden line snakes across the “emotional landscape” towards anxious and I’m quickly successful in overcoming this hurdle.

Speed is important. The entire time I’m out in the Wilderness, my sanity is slowly creeping down, and the humanly atrocities or otherworldly scenarios of narrative or resource encounters can often speed the process up. When I drop to zero, I wake back up in front of Ida, who is again (or for the first time?) mad at my inconvenient nap place. The only evidence of my journey is the new word meanings I discovered and the resources I can put to learning new skills.

Emboldened with fresh knowledge, I started out again to try to reach the leviathan in my dream. However, this is where my preview of Eldritch Empathy ends, leaving me wanting more.