Look, if you’re just going to leave valuable resources lying around in strategically placed caches, of course I’m going to clear them out. I’m trying to save the world, not earn a halo. The next player can just man up and find their own. You see, the big feature that Tides Of Tomorrow is bringing to the party is the ability to see the actions of previous players and experience interactions with the world and NPCs shaped by their behavior. You can see their physical actions in the world using a second sight-style power that lets you watch a ghost version of them for a short time, while NPCs will refer to them by name and help or hinder you depending on their behavior. If they were a picture of virtue and, say, helped a particular faction, you’ll find that people are more inclined to return the favor, but if your predecessor committed a crime or started trouble, you’ll have to find different ways to complete your objectives.
As someone that has been conned before by the whole “your choices really matter” when it comes to game worlds, I was interested to see if this could live up to the promise beyond a couple of key moments. Ultimately, it did. Sure, some of the more life-or-death type scenarios came with a cheeky little note that the events will only affect my reality, but otherwise the consequences felt real enough to be interesting. To underscore this, at the end of each section of the game you’ll get a The Walking Dead-style report outlining your choices and the impact they’d have on the next player, which was satisfying. You also get categorized as you play; I was tagged as tree-hugging survivalist. This became more meaningful as I played; my ‘pro-nature’ ranking meant I got some extra dialogue options, and some were blocked off because I hadn’t earned my chops as a troublemaker.
All of this is happening on a flooded, failing remnant of our world, one where different gangs have taken control of structures that loom out of the sea. There are Marauders, Reclaimers, and Mystics, and you’ll need to work with all of them. The storyline does have more than a hint of Captain Planet about it, with plastic ultimately representing the ultimate evil, saving the whales (or whale-like things) being a major plot point, and lots of lines that sound like your Aunty Bethany when she hit menopause and started talking about being in harmony with nature. The cast of characters borrows heavily from gaming’s big book of tropes – a badass but ultimately caring woman, religious zealots with opaque motivations, a big old selfish crime lord – but despite that, I did find myself making major decisions using how it would affect them as my north star. All of the characters are dealing with the effects of a disease called plastemia to some extent, a horrifying effect of the state of the world that sees people slowly morph into multicolored mannequins, ultimately leaving behind a plastic corpse. The only cure is a drug called Ozen, which is in short supply. You can buy it, steal it, and find it out in the world if you want to save some lives; the only catch is that you need it, too.
A little meter acts as a ticking timebomb of illness, but unless you’re out there like some sort of seafaring saint, it seems in place to give a general air of dread rather than a serious countdown. I was an absolute bastard about chugging Ozen at every opportunity, whatever the moral implications, and I still keeled over at what felt like a pre-ordained moment for the storytelling.
I expected the novelty of the vision power would wear off, but it’s been cleverly woven through puzzles and encounters in varying ways. You can see a route through a heavily guarded area, guess someone’s preferred moves in Rock, Paper, Scissors, and beat a dodge in a boxing match. In some scenarios you’ll want to watch what your predecessor did and do the opposite to avoid a nasty end. All players can also just throw out an emote – pointing, dancing, there’s a wheel of choices – so if you want to be extra helpful, you can assist your followers by indicating secrets or puzzle solutions. I occasionally did a little jig just for the hell of it.
Ultimately, some of my favorite moments came from small, satisfying impacts I could have on the world. One character asked me to set a law for their tiny nation; another wanted me to give my people, Tidewalkers, a new name. If someone calls you a Fish Whisperer, that might be my fault. I liked repairing ladders and bridges, knowing that the next player would benefit, but I also had no qualms about buying out a shop’s entire stock of Ozen. After one playthrough I felt like I’d experienced the mechanic as far as this story was concerned, and – other than a random jet ski race that made me want to throw myself into the actual sea – I kept being pleasantly surprised by it as the story went on. You could restart the game and follow a different player to see how their choices changed what you encountered, but while I enjoyed my time on the open sea, I wasn’t curious enough for a second playthrough. It did make me keen to see what the developer could do with the mechanic next though, because I’ll be there day one to try it out.
Rachel Weber is the Head of Editorial Development at IGN and an elder millennial. She’s been a professional nerd since 2006 when she got her start on Official PlayStation Magazine in the UK, and has since worked for GamesIndustry.Biz, Rolling Stone and GamesRadar. She loves horror, horror movies, horror games, Red Dead Redemption 2, and her Love and Deepspace boyfriends.
