Indika is weird, surprising, and captivating. It made me question its reality almost as often as its titular heroine, a juvenile nun tormented by the devil, doubts her faith. This strange adventure from aptly named developer Odd Meter may not have a polished design, but the compelling story at its core instilled enough faith in me to see it through to the end.
The game is set in early 19th century Russia. Indika is treated like an outcast in her monastery and for some reason is regularly tormented by the voice of Satan himself. The story doesn’t delve into how this sacrilegious relationship began, and that’s fine. The Devil is more of a narrative device; a symbol of Indika’s desire to be a good person, contrasting her growing skepticism and pragmatism towards the church’s fixed views on morality and sin. This conflict comes to a head when Indika finds herself in an unlikely partnership with Ilya, an escaped prisoner with forceful religious beliefs of his own.
As the pair bond in search of a divine cure for their ailments—Indica’s demonic presence and IIya’s injured arm—the third-person adventure sees them traverse environments ranging from abandoned factories to frozen wilderness. Along the way, players solve environmental puzzles and, very rarely, avoid hazards. The obstacles themselves are respectable and varied, often centering on Indica inexplicably operating hefty equipment like an elevator to move and stack giant cans or manipulating the massive gears of an industrial elevator. Less enjoyable moments, such as escaping a pursuing wolf in an infuriating trial-and-error sequence, appear rarely, thankfully.
The gameplay becomes most intriguing when the Devil’s influence overwhelms Indica to the point that the world around her turns a hellish red, and the environment rips apart into a distorted version of itself. This leads to relatively uncomplicated but thematically intriguing navigation puzzles, as players switch between this hellish landscape and reality by pressing the “prayer” button to find the right path. These are neat segments that I wish happened more often than the few times they do.
Poking around the environment leads to hidden collectibles, from religious artifacts to “obscene” publications, that reward points that manifest as literal giant pixelated gems that appear in front of Indica. This bizarre visual flourish is a wild contrast to the otherwise realistic art direction, and these points level Indica up via a dual-track skill tree of point modifiers (themed around themes like Shame, Guilt, and Remorse) that affect the story less literally than it seems.
This is just one example of Indica’s strangeness. There are typical video game elements throughout the game, such as strange chiptune melodies and flashbacks that unfold as playable 16-bit platforming sequences. It’s unclear whether this approach has any thematic significance (perhaps symbolizing the relative simplicity of Indica’s childhood), but it at least gives Indica a surreal and playful charm.
Everything about the game, from the strange people you meet to the odd camera angles to its crazy introductory scene, which I won’t spoil, gives the game a hefty dose of absurdity that works strangely. Indica feels like a shadowy comedy at times, and perhaps that’s by design. The game swings for the fences, and that delightful audacity is combined with a poignant commentary on the struggle to maintain unshakable faith in a harsh, unjust world. Indica’s engaging and sometimes emotional personal journey of self-discovery led me to a powerful conclusion that, like most things, is left to the player to interpret.
The result is an adventure that feels thoughtful, amusing, and depressing all at once, and also “extraordinary” in just the right way. Indika is one of the most moving and memorable adventures of the year, and its themes will stay with me as I continue to ponder their meaning.
