People aren’t my favourite people. Every person brings unnecessary complications into my life, and I’m too empathetic to just focus on myself. So, I’m not the most social person, and neither is the protagonist of No, I’m not a Human.

But while I still make connections with others, because that’s life, and you gotta, the protagonist of No, I’m not a Human is forced to because the world is ending, and he’s gotta. But he – and by extension, you – quickly learn that Hell is indeed other people, but there’s much worse to be afraid of.

IF THE WORLD DON’T LIKE US…

The sun has decided it’s done playing games and is set on roasting the planet. At the same time, unknown beings have clawed their way out from beneath the ground and are out to kill. Coincidence? Maybe. It’s not like it matters in your situation. During the day, it’s too hot to go outside. During the night, survivors roam, looking for shelter, and any one of them could be one of “The Visitors.”

But, while boarding up the windows and doors and hunkering down seems like it would be the best response, you can’t be home alone, because then you’re easy pickins. So, you need to let strangers into your home. And, typically, you can’t tell from looking at them whether or not they’re out to kill you.

During the day, you can then talk to your guests. They’ll tell you their life stories, but that’s not how you can discover whether they’re human or not. Instead, as time progresses, you learn of various tests you can apply that will give indications. Perfect teeth, dirty nails, red eyes, an aura full of black spots: they might be a Visitor. If so, the only solution is to shoot them in the face. If you don’t, your other guests might turn up dead.

IT’LL SHAKE US JUST LIKE WE WERE A COLD

No, I’m Not a Human isn’t scary in the typical sense of the word when it comes to video games. Instead, its horror comes from the thick dread that comes from being in a situation beyond your control. You can only watch through your windows as everything falls apart, and doom closes in on you.

The only control that you’re capable of is when it comes to who you let into your house, but actually ensuring that folks are who they say they are isn’t exactly a science. While you’re given means to uncover visitors, the tests aren’t entirely conclusive. Someone might have dirty fingernails, but so can a human. They may have perfect teeth, but maybe they only have good hygiene.

You can only make so many actions each day. Chatting with a guest doesn’t count, but testing them does. You can’t just put everyone through a suite of tests to deduce whether or not they’re lethal, you have to be sparing. But if you don’t make a decision, and you allow a Visitor to live, then someone else pays the price.

It’s up to you how soft you are, a fact that the game will often jab you with. But perhaps worse is the way that you’re never told if you were correct in your assessment. If you blow someone’s head off, confetti won’t fly out if you successfully identified a Visitor. Likewise, you aren’t punished for shooting a human. You just do what you have to in order to survive. If you have folks that are proven to be human, then what does it matter if a few questionable innocents get their faces perforated. As long as you can live with yourself.

DON’T YOU FIND THAT IT CAN TAKE SUCH A LONG TIME

The framework for No, I’m Not a Human marinates in ambiguity. A good example of this is FEMA, who, like its real world counterpart, are a disaster response organization. However, it’s hard to tell if they can even be trusted. They work in secrecy, and you often see them gunning down groups of people. Whether those people are actually Visitors or not is beyond your knowledge. FEMA itself could be staffed exclusively by Visitors, for all you know. They might be humanity’s last, best hope, they might be malicious, or they could be completely incompetent.

What you do know is that a dude in a yellow hazmat suit shows up at your door occasionally and carts off some of your occupants. If you protest, you’re directly threatened, and it’s your decision to call their bluff.

Not that there’s anything you can really do about it. The FEMA depicted in No, I’m not a Human is a veritable army, whereas you’re a lone home-owner. Whether or not you’re significant in the grand scheme of things isn’t as clear-cut as it is with No, I’m not a Human’s brother from another mother, Static Dread: The Lighthouse. Your task isn’t to save humanity, it’s simply to survive.

WITH WHITE ELEPHANTS, SITTING DUCKS

There are ten endings to the game based on your choices. A playthrough takes roughly 2-3 hours, which actually feels like a long time when you’re waiting for the world to end. While some events in the game are fixed, the survivors who show up at the door are somewhat randomized. That doesn’t simply mean who shows up, but also whether or not they’re a Visitor. Foresight means you know what events will happen in subsequent playthroughs, but there’s enough variation that it’s enjoyable to take another lap in an effort to find some sort of “happy” ending. In fact, I had little issue with doing multiple play throughs here, whereas in Static Dread: The Lighthouse, I wasn’t interested in a do-over.

One thing to note, however, is that saving is extremely limited. It’s done using a consumable, kombucha, but you only have one dose at the beginning of the game. You can get more, but unless it’s given to you by a desperate guest, it doesn’t feel worth it.

It feels appropriately. Familiarity undermines ambiguity, so if you are given easy access to replay certain events, then you’ll get a better understanding of the underlying cause and effect which would kneecap its effectiveness. What surprises me is that you can still use saving as a checkpoint. I figure it would be a straight save and quit, meaning its function would begin and end with allowing you to stop mid-game. As it is, you can identify a point of divergence where you know that a choice will affect the ending and just load to it. I suppose that has its benefits, as well, so this isn’t really a complaint. Just plan your attempts around the fact that there isn’t an easy ripcord.

What is a complaint is that, in the pre-release build I have, things got a bit rough. And I don’t just mean bugs. Toward the end, things stopped fitting together quite right. The dialogue throughout can be a bit rough; at least the English version. But most drastically, with the multitude of endings, which one you get feels like walking a razor’s edge. Sometimes, purely by chance, something will happen that will completely derail the playthrough you intended. Hopefully, you drank some kombucha before it happened.

A lot of the bugs could be fixed as early as release day. That’s just the nature of game releases these days. Other problems, I don’t know… All I can assume is that frustrations will most likely crop up if you plan on going for all the endings.

TROUBLE WEIGHS A TONNE

The whole experience is encapsulated within a wonderfully twisted aesthetic. The artstyle is an off-putting mix of warped composite photographs and some traditional drawings that really sells the inhumanity of the situation. Meanwhile, the music is an off-putting warble that sounds like a misshapen vinyl record playing on a turntable with a worn-out belt. During the day, it may have a peaceful quality to it, but it gets slowed down at night, which makes it audibly heavy. It is an appropriately uncomfortable environment that you get forced into.

And I feel I should point out that No, I’m not a Human is fucking depressing. It really sucks you into its feverish, nightmare cataclysm. I made the comparison to The Legend of Zelda: Majora’s Mask in my write-up of the demo, and here it is in a different way: It’s like Majora’s Mask if it gave you no escape from the impending end. All you can do is talk to people who are trying to cope with the all-absorbing horror.

It’s the execution where No, I’m not a Human excels. It’s one thing to have a spooky story to tell, but to be able to involve the player in such a convincing way is an impressive feat. It takes real skill, and it’s something only possible in the medium of video games. The fact that it knows how to preserve its greatest mysteries show great focus and restraint. It’s a great reason to avoid going outside.

8/10

This review was conducted using a digital, pre-release copy of the game. It was provided by the publisher’s PR.