A stunning audiovisual experience, combined with a stubborn, painfully instilled lesson. 

First, the overall style of BlightFog is simple, yet striking. The monochromatic world lends the scenery an empty feel, not unlike the hollow shell presented by its post-apocalyptic setting. The switches in the shades of grey are smart — one scene, the shades are dark, drab, ghastly, and in another they're bright and full of hope, though in most cases they fall somewhere in between. The silence, too, is bickering, gnashing at this game's seams. I'm reminded of the scene with the main character riding the bike through the highway, infant on their back, nothing but nothingness out yonder, followed by a faint murmuring from what I could only describe as a mother's gentle voice. It's serene, it's hopeful, it's hazy, it's dead.

The message that I received from my playthrough was a painful one, though I'm unsure of how much it varies ending-to-ending. The narrative overall is told minimalistically. In the beginning, it is explained that our character was captured by cultists who worship machines, and the main character likens their capture to their past, of those who have used them and abused them. In the ending that I got, I was tricked by a commander-turned-controlling hedonist into getting together with a girl he'd been preying on, presumably to continue his abuse and/or manipulation toward her, only for his stupidity to then cause the world to end. There's a lot of lessons there: of the unceasing pain of wanting to love and be loved, of the soft heart's inability to see through deceit, of a story without a happy ending. After all, whatever this place is, it has no hope — never had any. My only goal throughout the game had been to save the child on the main character's back, preserve it for its lasting breaths which'll likely be some of the world's last. The child beckoned me to go through safer routes (it didn't actually, but I didn't like the idea of going through danger with a child on my back), which ultimately led to my downfall.

I do think that my favorite part about BlightFog is its textual depth. The thing is, it doesn't have many moving parts, but the parts that are moving offer a lot more to think about than I perhaps expected. Even Mr. Grumbles and his quiet walk-away gave me a bit of reflection on my actions, and the idea of an animal judging me unexpectedly resonated with me. It has its moment-to-moment brilliance, though its penmanship is somewhat lacking and slightly amateurish and does drag it down a bit with its shallowly pointed beliefs and musings. Like in the ending for example: in a final twist of fate, it's revealed that the machines think humans are bad, and that the machines and their cult army could do better! So they're recreating the world and destroying everything within it that's currently standing and living! "The world is sick, so we must destroy it before it kills itself" is an okay premise; exceptional when done right, but fairly inane when used as a mere platitude. For better or for worse, though, this game is fairly short, which means that while it does have to trim down its worldbuilding and narrative (making them both ultimately feel less fleshed out), its ending doesn't pull down too much of its weight.

Really great work! I was unsure of this at first (since admittedly it has a bit of a weak start), but my appreciation for it only grew as I saw more of it. I'm very excited to see what other stuff you've cooked.