Science fiction is often at its best when translating modern-day matters into futuristic allegories, heightening everyday issues into dramatic circumstances to reveal truths about humanity. Tides of Tomorrow executes this principle to great effect in both its narrative and mechanics, and I greatly enjoyed how its themes were so neatly communicated across each moment of gameplay. The unique way the story is conveyed is more impressive than the story itself, but it’s still a great time for fans of choice-driven games.
Tides of Tomorrow is a first-person, narrative-driven experience, and while it has some stealth, platforming, nautical combat, and puzzle challenges, the main mechanical hook is that you play the entire game on another player’s heels. Before each mission, you select the name of a player who’s already played that level (and can enter specific seed codes if you want to follow a friend or streamer), and the world will be altered as if they recently left the area. If the previous player angers someone powerful, the guards will be more hostile towards you, but if they were charming, people might revere you as a good omen. It’s not just a quick gimmick; this previous player becomes a significant character in your world, which I adored. It also makes the whole world feel very alive – you always show up in the middle of a problem, or right after a significant conflict.
You’re associated with this other player because you’re both Tidewalkers, a mysterious people with no memory of your early life, but the ability to see the recent memories of other Tidewalkers in the area. You can see their conversations with NPCs and learn how those characters got their current attitudes, but you can also see them solve puzzles and use their movements as a guideline. The game also has an emote system you can use to stamp strong emotions at almost any point in the world for your followers to see. You can celebrate after winning a race, make rude gestures at characters you don’t like, or point to a nearby secret. There are also special chests you can use to stow resources for later players, or recover spoils others have left for you.
It’s a great mechanic that I frequently engaged with, partially because I appreciated the players I followed so much. It also ties into the game’s message about climate change and preserving the world for future generations. By donating to future players, I effectively threw away many important items – I would never get to use those resources and likely will never see other players use them, but because I knew someone would appreciate the gesture, it felt great. Games often give you opportunities to dominate or trick strangers online, but it’s nice to have one that lets you be nice for a change.
The aforementioned resources are scarce. Tides of Tomorrow takes place on a flooded Earth, populated only by a few hundred thousand humans, hearty sea creatures called mereids, and tons and tons of plastic waste. Plastic bobs in the ocean, floats through the air, and is even used to construct buildings and islands. I really loved the world-building and how quickly Digixart thrusts the player into it. Tides of Tomorrow doesn’t waste much time on exposition, which I always appreciate.
The prevalence of plastic has led to a disease called Plastemia, which turns one’s body into colorful plastic over time. Players are all afflicted with this illness, but the symptoms can be subdued by regularly consuming an inhalant called Ozen. Unfortunately, most of the world has the same sickness, so you often have to choose between giving Ozen to others or keeping it for yourself, making for a lot of tough choices. It is the only way for you to heal, and you will die if you don’t consume enough of it, but it’s also crucial for story moments. I enjoy that the game uses the health bar to force the player to stay invested in the world; it’s an effective way to blend story tension into the game mechanics.
The story itself is enjoyable, but unremarkable. I enjoyed the dialogue, and the major beats are entertaining, but Tides of Tomorrow is more impressive for its storytelling method than for the narrative itself. I had a blast twisting the plot with my choices, but I was never heavily emotionally invested. The same is true for the first-person gameplay. In addition to dialogue trees, you’ll engage with simple stealth mechanics, some chase sequences, and basic platforming and puzzle solving. You also pilot a boat (and engage in some light combat) as well as a submarine later on. Thanks to an overall structure keeping players from doing one thing for too long, I never got sick of any gameplay elements, but they were still nothing to write home about.
I am most impressed by how well Tides of Tomorrow focuses on its themes around conservationism. I see the value of preserving the land for those who come after me because I constantly see visions of my predecessors preserving the world for me. I value my resources because I can see how scarce they are; each bottle of Ozen I gift to a character or a future Tidewalker is one I won’t get to have for myself, and I came very close to dying because of that. The multiplayer element in particular is a clever take on consequences in narrative games, expanding their influence from one player to anyone who follows in their footsteps. Tides of Tomorrow reminds me why video games are so uniquely suited to tell stories. Like a Tidewalker leaving gifts for subsequent followers, the game makes me optimistic for future projects that might follow in its footsteps.
