Without a Dawn

Years ago, I played a little indie called Distraint. It was this very unique-looking psychological horror game that really manages to get under your skin, asking questions on what makes us human and how we keep our humanity. It’s a game that holds a unique place in my gaming history, as I usually don’t go for horror games, with only a few notable exceptions. But when Distraint’s creator Jesse Makkonen mentioned on BlueSky that he was releasing another game about the human psyche – Without a Dawn – I was sold immediately.

And not just because of the setting: as you can see in the images accompanying this review, Without a Dawn’s art is just stunning. Its pseudo-ASCII aesthetic really sets the mood for a game that will have you scratching your head and nursing your heart. This visual novel follows a young woman who has escaped her daily life and is now recovering in the silence of a remote cabin. There’s solitude here, and quiet, both things that she was looking for. But what if the solitude and quiet are also looking for her?

The game starts early during the night. You’re struggling to sleep, with your mind providing a constant conversation about your anxieties and struggles in a way that is instantly recognisable for someone like me, who has their own mental health issues. For example, you start out getting it in your head that there’s someone outside the window. Surely something was moving behind the blinds, right? Can you really go to sleep if you haven’t checked? So you get up, open the blinds, only to find out it’s a tree’s branches swaying in the wind. Back to bed, and off into your first fever dream. The lines between dream and reality start blurring quite quickly, in a way very reminiscent of something like Twin Peaks. But where the game has you question your sanity at first, as you try to make sense of everything that’s going on, Without a Dawn turns into a big introspective episode, where your own struggle with the darkness and how you deal with the emptiness it brings with it receives centre stage. So yes, the game does mostly become a conversation with yourself. If you’re not too fond of this kind of introspective reflection, then Without a Dawn probably won’t be a game for you. But if you are someone who enjoys philosophical musings and can see the value of therapy for people who are struggling, then you’ll find something truly special here.

I do have to give some trigger warnings for the game, as aside from dealing with depression and anxiety, it also goes into self-harm, so if these are themes you are not comfortable with, maybe give this game and this review a skip for now. That being said, the game deals with these themes in its own delicate way. Yes, some of the imagery at the end might be difficult to deal with, but it’s clear that this game has been written by someone who has either struggled with these issues themselves or has gained real knowledge about those that do.

The writing obviously is probably the most important part of any visual novel, and despite the art being so hauntingly beautiful, it’s the story that really shines brightest. While the imagery is beautiful, it’s also slightly limited, with you staring at the same screens for quite some time. The writing takes you on some really interesting trips, though. It felt reminiscent of something like Slay the Princess in how the game’s narrator, the person you keep talking to, might have your best interests at heart but also might just be gaslighting you completely. And that’s such a good depiction of mental health issues! Depression lies to you. Anxiety tries to make you scared when you might not be. And it’s all so very subtle, something this game really shows wonderfully. It almost seems like it’s just your own thoughts, but it’s not. Jesse clearly knows this and manages to weave a powerful story around this.

There’s an immense power in the choices you make in this game, even if they might seem trivial to some. Most of the time, it comes down to a choice between rational thinking and allowing yourself to feel your emotions. Sometimes, often even, there is no right answer. That’s just how mental illness works; hell, it’s even how life works.

Just like Many Nights a Whisper earlier this year, Without a Dawn is a game that’s light on the actual gameplay and won’t take up too much of your time either. Be that as it may, it leaves an impression like few other games this year will. It’s been a couple of days since I finished the game, and I keep on thinking back on it, wondering if the choices I made were the right ones, if I was gentle enough with my character while allowing her to feel what she needed to feel. It’s a feat few games manage to do, and it just made the experience more special because of it.