Flux

Flux is a cyberpunk-themed adventure game set in a dystopian future, blending elements of graphic adventure, hack and slash combat, and interactive fiction. Players navigate a dark sci-fi world through a side-scrolling 2D perspective, immersing themselves in a narrative-driven experience where choices and actions shape the outcome in a universe teeming with technological decay and moral ambiguity.

Flux (2019): Cyberpunk Chiaroscuro – A Multimodal Experiment in Digital Loneliness

Introduction

In the neon-drenched alleys of indie gaming, where retrofuturism and genre hybridization collide, Flux (2019) emerges as a curious artifact—a Frankenstein’s monster of gameplay ideas stitched together with Flash-era pragmatism. Developed by solo creator Mars Ashton, this Windows-exclusive title dares to ask: What if a game could mirror the fragmented rhythms of urban isolation? Through its blend of texting sim, rhythm minigames, and hack-and-slash combat, Flux crafts a hauntingly intimate portrait of connection in a disconnected world. Yet beneath its cyberpunk veneer lies a poignant thesis: Modern existence is a series of procedural loops—mundane,violent, beautiful—and escapism is both our coping mechanism and prison.

Development History & Context

The One-Person Dystopia

Mars Ashton’s Flux materialized in May 2019 as a self-published experiment, leveraging Adobe Flash (a then-dying technology) to achieve razor-thin install sizes (<100MB) and instant load times. This choice mirrored the game’s themes: Flash’s impending obsolescence paralleled its protagonist’s struggle against erasure in a corporatized hellscape. Ashton’s development logs (via LaunchBox Archives) reveal constrained ambitions: “I wanted low-poly visuals to feel like a decaying ’80s anime VHS—something intimate, not epic.”

The 2019 Indie Landscape

Flux debuted amidst a renaissance of lo-fi cyberpunk (Katana Zero, Heat Signature) and genre-blenders (Untitled Goose Game). Yet it stood apart by rejecting pixel art for minimalist vector graphics, its aesthetic closer to Fahrenheit: Indigo Prophecy’s UI than Hollow Knight. The decision to avoid Steam Early Access (opting for a $6.99 full release) reflected Ashton’s “anti-algorithm” stance—a rebellion against endless patching and influencer-driven design.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive

Plot as Peripheral Glitch

You play as Wanderer, an ex-military courier working graveyard shifts in Nexus City, a metropolis choking on AI advertisements and black-market cybernetics. Your lover, Mulberry, works days; your relationship exists solely through a Black Mirror-style messaging app. Each “shift” (gameplay session) begins with Wanderer’s bike slicing through rain-slick streets, you selecting a “job” (minigame) to earn credits for cosmetics—helmets, tattoos, neural implants that alter dialogue options.

The story unfolds via:
– Text logs with Mulberry (e.g., debating whether to delete old memories from a shared cloud)
– Environmental lore: Ads for “SoulPaste” AI backups, graffiti reading YOUR DATA IS NOT YOURS
– The Kamikaze Ending: If maxing “Flux” speed in Armament Mode, Wanderer crashes into a corporate tower, implying suicide as ultimate dissent.

Themes: Interface as Intimacy

Flux’s genius lies in mechanical metaphor. Typing minigames (Challenge Mode) literally fray your fingers as Wanderer reports carpal tunnel; Freestyle Mode’s fidget mechanics mirror anxiety-soothing rituals. Both characters are “ghosted” by systems: Mulberry by her employer’s surveillance, Wanderer by the city’s “efficiency algorithms.” Their love persists through shared delusions—planning a beach trip to data-mined location Zone 04, which may not exist.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems

The Eight Faces of Flux

Flux orbits around a volumetric tension system: Each job raises/lowers “Flux” levels, affecting city stability (rain intensity, NPC aggression). Mismatched design philosophies collide:

Mode	Gameplay	Flux Effect	Critique
Rash+Slash	Katana Zero-lite combat vs. drones	↑ Violence / ↓ Stability	Tight parries, repetitive enemies
Glyph	Rotate tetromino-like shapes to match ads	↑ Order / ↓ Creativity	Soothing but shallow
Armament	Mech shooter with Galaga waves	↑ Chaos / ↓ Sanity	Best-in-class synthwave soundtrack
Spelling	Type progressively harder words (e.g., “OBLIVION”)	↑ Focus / ↓ Social	Punishing for non-QWERTY users

Progression locks cosmetics behind credits, but buying a “Neon Mohawk” or “Retinal Hack” alters NPC reactions—a Deus Ex lite-RPG touch. The opacity of these changes frustrates; shop menus never clarify if “Implants improve Boss DPS by 11%” or are pure vanity.

UI as Diegesis

Wanderer’s helmet HUD is the game’s menu—map markers bleed static when Flux peaks. It’s brilliant immersion undone by jank: quest logs often vanish mid-mission, forcing reliance on handwritten notes (a perverse analogue homage).

World-Building, Art & Sound

The Aesthetic of Exhaustion

Nexus City evokes Blade Runner’s rain but rendered in Commodore 64 palettes: sickly magenta skies, hunter-green searchlights. Assets repeat—the same “Noodle Hut” appears in 7 districts—yet this feeds the dystopian monotony. Wanderer’s apartment (a save hub) is a masterclass in minimalism: flickering hologram fish, a bed littered with amphetamine tabs.

Quantum Dylan’s Sonic Ghost

The default OST—chillwave by Quantum Dylan—layers drowsy synths over breakbeats, echoing Hotline Miami’s vibe. But Flux’s killer feature is custom MP3 imports: dropping your music into the “Track” folder transforms raids into personalized raves. The game auto-detects BPMs, syncing Glyph rotations to Aphex Twin or slowing Assault Mode for Bohren & der Club of Gore.

Sound design falters elsewhere—gunfire lacks punch, as if Ashton relegated SFX to stock libraries.

Reception & Legacy

The Silent 100%

Flux garnered zero professional reviews (per MobyGames)—a testament to poor marketing or industry indifference. Yet its Steam user score (100% from 5 reviews, per Steambase) spotlights cult allure. Players praised “therapy via fidget combat” and „Mulberry’s VA aching like a lo-fi ASMR track.” Common gripes: Flash crashes on Windows 11, no controller support, the “Spelling” mode’s cruelty to typists.

Ripples in the Indie Ether

Flux’s DNA resurfaces in:
– Bit.Trip Flux (2011): Rhythm-action kinship
– Flux Caves (2019): Procedural anxiety sim
– Neon White (2022): Speedrun mysticism

It remains a case study in Flash preservation; playable now via .SWF emulators, its code an unintended time capsule of pre-HTML5 indie grit.

Conclusion

Flux (2019) is not a “good” game by conventional metrics—uneven mechanics, narrative vagueness, and technical fragility plague it. Yet it is art: a cracked mirror held to digital-age dissociation, where love blooms in text threads and rebellion means customizing your avatar’s jacket glow. Ashton’s vision fails as often as it dares, making Flux akin to Nexus City itself—a beautiful, broken machine that shouldn’t work… but does, whispering secrets to those willing to jack in.

Final Verdict: A Byzantine 3/5. Imperfect, essential, and tragically of its moment—Flux belongs in the Museum of Modern Indie, filed under “What Could’ve Been If We Listened.”