Moondown

The environment of Rain World is harsh. At first, that’s all it was. When my journey began, I only focused on survival; finding rare food, reaching shelter to hibernate before it was too late, and avoiding dangerous monsters. I thought this was the game. I only needed to do what I could to survive.

But hidden at the far eastern edge of the map, across the sea, is a person. She sits fragile in a crumbling room. There is no food here, no shelter, no monsters; but there is something else. As I enter the room, the first weak notes of her theme start to play, a sad melody struggling to be heard. She looks at me, watching me explore the lair, saying things I can’t understand. A few white motes drift around her head; I reach out to grab one, but she screams and turns away from me.

This is a person. I might have hurt her. She’s afraid of me now. I run away.

I return after the next hibernation; there’s not enough food left to stay, so this is my last visit. She looks at me again; I can’t apologize. I don’t know her language. Maybe the motes could feed me, but the idea of eating them feels different; I don’t want to hurt her again. We look at each other for a while, and I leave, never to return.

Meeting this character made me realize Rain World is about more than just survival. My journey isn’t the same as before; the creatures and the places feel too real now. Far away, after many hours of adventuring, I hear the notes of her theme again; not struggling, but roaring with strength. In the chamber of her brother, his memory flies soaring through every room. I remember meeting her long ago, and I realize how human he is, too.