Moon: Remix RPG Adventure was a product of RPG developers tired of the status quo, seeking to tear down some of the tired design philosophies of the genre. It was too weird for a Western localisation, but its impregnable status caught the eyes of a young Toby Fox, and for whom its premise would inspire despite never playing Moon. With the influence seeded, Undertale was born, and interest in Moon would resurface, giving it a second life on the PlayStation Network and the Nintendo eShop. Inspired by Undertale, Moon‘s designer rediscovered a surge of creativity, bringing the team back together for one last RPG journey. What awaits gamers in this unique and nostalgic tale about video games and the relationships between adults and children?
Blurring the lines of reality, Stray Children‘s story opens with a scenario that eerily mirrors the developer’s situation. In 1997, a game designer created a quirky RPG called Crescent Moon. Unfortunately, it got canceled and never saw the light of day, rotting away in the developer’s storage. He goes missing, seemingly sucked into the world he created, and his only hope is his dog-faced son to save him.
The anonymous dog-boy is thrust into his father’s life’s work, and upon awakening, he finds himself in a bizarre and perilous world populated exclusively by children. These kids take refuge in fortified strongholds, living in constant fear of the “Olders”, twisted adults consumed by their insecurities, self-doubt, and grudges, lurking outside and posing a dire threat.
The boy embarks on a bold journey through this fairy-tale nightmare, navigating surreal environments like treehouses and submarines. He confronts challenges, solves intricate puzzles, and engages with eccentric young residents, all while piecing together the crumbling game world in his quest to find his father and escape. As he traverses this strange realm, he grapples with the realities of growing up, the pressures of adulthood, and the stark contrast between the innocence of childhood and the harshness of maturity, since growth is inescapable.
Anyone who played Moon will instantly catch the allusions. As the story unfolds, it becomes clear that this is less of a spiritual successor and more of a full-on sequel. Several visual motifs and themes are repeated; the obvious being that the protagonist is a child trapped in a video game, and how the scenario subverts and deconstructs its many tropes.
There is more to Stray Children‘s story apart from taking cues from Chulip’s depressing depiction of adults. The world of Crescent Moon is dying due to the only cartridge in existence beginning to rot. Its components are breaking down, depicted in Crescent Moon‘s world as a crumbling void, like The Nothing from the film The NeverEnding Story.
To save himself and his father from the end of Crescent Moon, the boy, with the help of a cast of quirky characters, must set out into the world and assemble the cartridge and ROM chip for the game. Unlike Moon Remix, Stray Children is a very linear game, and it’s easy to miss collectibles, which are needed for the secret ending, as well as saving all of the Olders. There are no warnings when approaching a point of no return, and talking to what might seem to be an NPC will shunt the protagonist forward, locking them out of full completion. As great as old-school gaming can be, this was one feature of classic games that the world was better off without.
The main message of adulthood making monsters of us all is a poignant one, albeit ham-fisted. Stray Children‘s story strengths are its bittersweet tone and its writing that reconciles the harsh truth that nobody can be innocent forever, and time and life experiences wear everyone down. The Olders weren’t born as monsters. They were kids at one time, and their broken state was simply due to the realities of life beating them down. Sometimes it’s forces beyond control, but other times it’s personal hang-ups that can hold them back. It’s a little schmaltzy, but a very relatable story that was written by a tired, but funny, old guy with a keen understanding of the human condition and childlike wonder.
Apart from adventuring and collecting items, the other main module of Stray Children‘s gameplay is the Undertale-style combat. Like in Toby Fox’s games, the boy can save his enemies or kill them, but unlike Fox’s works, there is no drawback to murder. Regretfully, Stray Children‘s means of talking it out with foes borders on almost nonsensical and trial-and-error experimentation.
The random encounters feel more like unique boss fights than basic scraps, with each enemy permanently removed after being killed or pacified. On the enemy’s turn, players dodge real-time bullet-hell patterns by moving the boy in a confined arena at walking speed only, with no sprint, dash, or invincibility frames, demanding pattern recognition and precise positioning as attacks evolve and intensify.
Killing an Older is self-explanatory, but pacifying them is going to require some detective work. Stray Children‘s pacification is the worst example of trial-and-error gameplay seen in a modern game. It’s not clear if there is any technique or context for figuring out how to help these people. Talking it out seems like the boy is being set up for a trap every time. It’s expected that players will explore Stray Children multiple times to figure out how to get the best ending. It’s unreasonable for anyone to get it on the first run, especially with the absurd stakes stacked against them. Thankfully, there are several gimmicky set-pieces and minigames to mix things up.
The gameplay draws inspiration from Undertale, but the visuals are unmistakably Love-de-Lic. Its aesthetic is very consistent with Moon, relying on pre-rendered pixel art backgrounds and low-res 3D elements, blending 2D sprites with warm dithering, and chunky pixelated edges. The art direction combines several styles, such as the watercolour character sprites, claymation, and raw pixel art. The result is a surrealist collage of emotions and nostalgic wistful longing for a simpler time.
