Visual and narrative mysteries translate to structural ones, too. Few games use color so well, with its sandy browns and blistering oranges depicting the blazing desert heat. Yellows and soft pinks turn to rich greens and mauves, and even later, deep purples. In each of the game's regions, the color palette grows more complex. You speak to citizens, who warble at you unintelligibly and warn you of danger with simple graphical speech bubbles.
You take in sights such as a colossal mechanical hand-iced over, disembodied-and wonder about the titan it belonged to. Heart Machine uses the number of notes required, no fewer and no more during the rests, you explore the world, looking for secrets and valuable health packs. Developer Heart Machine applies to its visuals a lesson music composers learn early in their studies: rests are as important as notes. The grandest vistas calm your pulse between difficult, breathless combat sequences. It is more than simply pretty Hyper Light Drifter uses its visuals to both guide and relax you. Such is the power of artistry this rich and thoughtful. I don't know this place's entire history, but its desolate elegance inspires me to fill in the gaps myself. As stunning as it is, Hyper Light Drifter's greatest triumph isn't in the story that it tells, but in the stories that it doesn't. I want to hear the music that they sing, and see the places they have been. I wish to hear the stories its citizens tell of the world it once was, and the one it might become.
Hyper Light Drifter's setting is so beautiful, so haunting, that I long to know all I can about it.