Mark Borja, Until Then’s protagonist, isn’t lost in his dreams but isn’t awake either. A teenager in the suburbs of the Philippines, Mark lives alone and drifts through his days. Aimless as Mark’s teenage daydream may be, it’s not a hollow daze. He’s got his best friends Cathy Portillo, who’s trying to figure out who she wants to be, and Ridel Gonzales, who’s got meetings lined up with producers for a short film he’s making happen. He’s got the piano; he inherited his love for it from his mom, and he’s been teaching himself, hoping it may spark whatever’s missing in his heart.
Maybe it’s the aftermath of the Ruling — a series of cataclysms that struck the world not too long ago that the Philippines has been clawing its way back from. Or maybe it’s the cinders of weird that are kindling here and there. Mark and his pals are realizing their memories don’t always line up — not drastically so, but noticeably so. And folks who go off on their own on rainy nights might disappear. Mark knows that something’s off with himself and with the world.
And then, contact. A last-minute scramble to paint a poster for art class leads to Mark literally running into new transfer student Nicole Lacsamana. Their collision leads Mark and Nicole to have to work together to redo their paintings, which leads to Mark discovering Nicole’s piano and playing a piece his mom shared with him. Nicole recognizes the piece and reopens wounds she’d rather forget. And from there, the die is cast.
Despite the inauspicious start, Mark and Nicole are drawn to each other by the past they didn’t know they shared and how they make their worlds bigger. As Mark reaches out to Nicole, he finds himself seeing things he couldn’t see before –that Cathy has parts of her life she cannot bring herself to share with anyone; that Ridel following his calling may mean their friendship fading; that science whiz and budding friend Louise is doing her damnedest to push outside of the box so many believe she’s locked into. He cannot keep pretending he’s okay and doesn’t know the answer to a question he’s been running from.
Until Then’s creative team prioritizes its narrative and uses its gameplay as a storytelling tool. Mark’s friendships with Cathy, Ridel, and Louise and his increasingly intimate relationship with Nicole shape how he sees the world, influencing how he moves through the world under the player’s control. Carnival games with your friends are one thing. Carnival games with your friends while you’re seeing disturbing glimpses of somewhere else that never was are something else entirely. Picking cookies to send with an apology and explanation letter is a simple A, B, C choice — but one where Mark’s perspective on the person he’s apologizing to and their taste in both cookies and life informs the player’s decision. Mark’s taking a terrifying, vital step forward and waking up to an answer he needs to accept means repeating the prompt until he’s screwed up the courage to go through with it.
While the story is linear, the player does have the agency to shape how Mark responds to some of its unfolding, either through minigames or dialogue choices. Mark and Nicole will have a bitter argument that leaves them both hurt and raw, but the contours of the argument are up to the player. It echoes Until Then’s visual novel cousins: the tale’s being told, and the ending’s the one planned for, but there’s space to change the angles and the texture.
Speaking of angles and texture, Until Then is gorgeous. It combines striking, expressive pixel art with skillful lighting work, not only in terms of the placement of lighting within a scene but in terms of how the light changes from scene to scene. A moment during the game’s Christmas sequence uses the jump from a dark apartment to an unexpected meeting under a streetlight to lovely effect. Until Then’s formal cutscenes push the pixel art further, working in new perspectives and impressive expression work, from Mark’s initial lackadaise to a piano duet with Nicole, leading to some critical revelations in the climax and its heart-shredders.
For folks who enjoy games that prioritize the player’s ability to shape a world and its players, Until Then will be a learning process — one well worth following all the way to a high school formal’s take on Mount Olympus and then further. For folks who dig visual novels and their fellow narrative-heavy games, Until Then is a damn fine piece of work. Mark, Nicole and company’s comings-of-age are crafted thoughtfully, and with care. The ensemble is a colorful bunch, bouncing off each other joyfully and sorrowfully. A major character can become a minor background player. A deep friendship can fade into unhappy estrangement or build itself up stronger than ever. A life-changing moment can be understood bittersweetly or misunderstood catastrophically.
And while in Nicole’s words, “the world hasn’t ended yet,” the Ruling and its aftereffects cannot be ignored. The world has ways of imposing itself, both all too familiar — some of the disasters that made up the Ruling were the sorts that climate change has only made more devastating — and wilder than reality.
The science fiction side of Until Then‘s story boosts the coming-of-age journeys and character studies. To speak personally, I got attached to Mark, Nicole, and company to the point that as the tale played out, I found myself exclaiming aloud to major developments. They’re a dimensional, deeply lovable crew, and Until Then delivers a tale worthy of them. It’s a very fine game, one I’m glad to have played and glad to point folks towards.


You must be logged in to post a comment Login