Lingering

Lingering is a 2020 adventure visual novel developed by Ceylon Entertainment, featuring a side-view perspective and anime/manga-inspired artwork. Built with the Ren’Py engine, it explores LGBTQ+ themes through its narrative-driven gameplay, offering an interactive story experience for players on Windows, Linux, and Macintosh platforms.

The Longing: A Landmark in Experiential Gaming – A Monumental Slow Burn

Introduction: The Patience of a Kingdom

At first glance, The Longing appears to be a minimalist point-and-click adventure wrapped in the aesthetic of a melancholic dungeon synth album. Yet beneath its deceptively simple surface lies one of the most audacious and philosophically rich experiments in video game history. Developed almost single-handedly by German independent developer Anselm Pyta under the Studio Seufz banner, The Longing (2020) does not merely ask the player to wait—it compels them to inhabit waiting as a core aesthetic and thematic experience. Released amid the early throes of the COVID-19 pandemic, its premise—controlling a Shade tasked with watching over a sleeping king for 400 real-time days—uncannily mirrored the global experience of lockdown, isolation, and the stretching of time. This review argues that The Longing is a seminal work that transcends its “idle game” label to become a profound meditation on loneliness, purpose, and the elasticity of time. Its legacy is secured not by mainstream commercial success but by its fearless demonstration that video games, uniquely among media, can sculpt real-world duration into a narrative and emotional instrument.

Development History & Context: A Six-Year Underground Journey

The Studio and Vision: Studio Seufz was co-founded by Anselm Pyta in 2017, but The Longing‘s seeds were sown years earlier. Pyta’s background in Flash animation for platforms like Newgrounds informed his understanding of pacing and visual storytelling. The game’s concept originated during a visit to the Barbarossa Cave (Kyffhäuser Cave) in Germany, a site steeped in the Kyffhäuser legend—the myth of a king (Frederick Barbarossa) who sleeps within the mountain, awaiting a time to awaken and restore the realm. Pyta became fixated on the legend’s dwarf, who checks on the king once per century. “How does the dwarf live with so much waiting?” Pyta asked. This question became the game’s nucleus.

Technological Constraints & Design Philosophy: Development spanned six years (2014–2020), largely a solo endeavor. Pyta handled art (Photoshop), animation (Adobe Flash), sound design, and much of the coding (Unity), with assistance on some programming tasks. The technological constraint was not a limitation but a creative catalyst: the simple 2D aesthetic, evoking hand-drawn illustrations and German cartoonist Walter Moers’ style, was born from necessity and refined into a deliberate, atmospheric choice. Pyta deliberately eschewed a day-night cycle, instead using environmental cues—falling rocks, the Shade’s changing animations (sleeping, talking to itself)—to mark the passage of time.

The Gaming Landscape: The Longing emerged during a resurgence of interest in “art games” and “slow games.” Its inspiration drawn from idle games like Clicker Heroes is evident in its mechanic allowing progress while the game is closed. However, Pyta disliked idle games’ lack of endings and sought to fuse their passive progression with the emotional stakes of a narrative adventure. This hybrid genre—what later critics and scholars would term “empathy games” or “temporal art games”—was ripe for exploration. Its release in March 2020, just as the WHO declared COVID-19 a pandemic, positioned it as an accidental cultural artifact, a digital mirror to collective quarantine.

Narrative & Thematic Deep Dive: Darkness, Duty, and Desire

Plot and Structure: The narrative is starkly simple yet layered with existential weight. The Shade, a frail, hooded creature of indeterminate origin, is commanded by an ancient, dying king to guard his slumber for 400 days. Upon awakening, the king promises “a world without longing.” The player’s actions during this period—exploring the vast subterranean kingdom, collecting resources to furnish the Shade’s humble home, reading books found in caves, or simply waiting—dictate which of several endings unfolds.

Character and Dialogue: The Shade is a cipher, intentionally designed with a cryptic appearance so players could project their own anxieties and hopes onto it. Its inner monologue is the primary narrative vehicle—a stream of consciousness that contemplates its servitude, the king’s promise, the nature of loneliness, and the temptation to abandon its post and seek the surface world. The dialogue is sparse but potent, often philosophical: “What is a world without longing? Is it a world without desire? Without hope? Or is it a world where all desires are fulfilled?” The king, seen only at the beginning and end (in the “true” ending), is a distant, almost mythical figure—a representation of feudal obligation and the emptiness of promised utopias.

Themes and Symbolism:
– Loneliness & Existential Purpose: The game’s core theme is the psychological weight of time and solitude. The Shade’s potential activities—reading classical literature (we encounter texts like Faust), drawing on walls, simply pacing—are acts against the void. The subterranean kingdom is a metaphor for the mind: vast, empty, and filled with the echoes of one’s own thoughts.
– Time as Antagonist and Medium: The 400-day real-time timer is the game’s defining mechanic and metaphor. Unlike game time that scales or pauses, The Longing’s clock ticks relentlessly, mirroring the inescapable passage of time in life. Pyta stated, “Video games are the only medium that can use extended time to tell a story.” The player’s relationship with this timer—whether they check it obsessively, ignore it, or manipulate it via the “bookmark system” (automating travel)—reveals their own patience or impatience, mirroring the Shade’s possible responses to its fate.
– Freedom vs. Duty: The central conflict is between the Shade’s internal yearning for autonomy (represented by exploring toward the surface or committing suicide by jumping into a bottomless pit) and its sworn duty. The ending where the Shade escapes via a well to live with a surface-dwelling old man (and causes the king’s death) is a poignant, quiet rebellion—a choice for mundane human connection over mystical obligation.
– The Nature of “Endings”: The game rejects a singular narrative conclusion. The “canonical” ending—waiting the full 400 days—reveals the king’s promise as a nihilistic trick: he destroys the world to create “a world without longing,” leaving the Shade and himself to rule an eternal void. This is a devastating payoff, equating absolute longing’s end with absolute annihilation. Other endings, achieved through earlier exploration or specific interactions with a creature called the “Darkness,” offer alternatives: suicide, escape, or being thwarted. This multiplicity critiques the very idea of a “true” ending, emphasizing player agency in defining meaning.

Lore vs. History Distinction: Applying the Reddit discussion’s framework to The Longing is illuminating. The game’s history is its concrete development story: Pyta’s inspiration from the Kyffhäuser cave, the six-year solo development, the use of Unity and Flash. The lore, however, is the metaphysical fabric of its world: the nature of the Shade (Is it a spirit? A construct? Is the king a god, a demon, or a metaphor?), the origin of the subterranean kingdom, the identity of the Darkness, and the philosophical implications of the king’s final act. The lore is abstract, open to interpretation, and never explicitly explained—it is the game’s atmosphere. The history grounds the experience in a tangible creative journey.

Gameplay Mechanics & Systems: The Architecture of Anticipation

Core Loop and Time Mechanics: The gameplay is defined by its oppositional loop: the player can either wait (by doing nothing or closing the game, causing the timer to advance slowly) or act (exploring caves, gathering resources, decorating the Shade’s home). Crucially, actions within the Shade’s home accelerate time. Reading books, drawing on walls, or simply resting causes the timer to jump forward by multiples (e.g., 1 in-game minute per 5 real seconds). This creates a strategic tension: to make the Shade’s existence bearable, you must engage in “productive” idleness, which ironically speeds the very passage of time you might wish to delay.

• Idle Game Integration: The “bookmark system” is a direct lift from idle games. It allows setting waypoints, automating return-to-home or random wandering. This means the player can literally start the game and return 400 days later to the default ending, though the game discourages this via a “cheating” dungeon (activated if the system clock is altered). This mechanic challenges traditional notions of “play”—is passive participation still play? The Longing says yes, and makes it poignant.
• Exploration and Puzzles: The cave system is a sprawling, non-linear map divided into zones (Home, Deep Caves, Near-Surface). Exploration is slow—the Shade walks at a glacial pace—intentionally inducing a meditative or frustrating state depending on the player. Puzzles are environmental and time-based: some doors require waiting for a rockfall; others need items gathered from specific locations. Success often requires patience and curiosity—the two paths outlined by Pyta.
• Progression and To-Do List: The Shade has a simple inventory and a to-do list of tasks (e.g., “Find 5 torches,” “Decorate the west wall”). These provide direction but are not mandatory. Progression is measured in days passed and areas unlocked, not experience points or levels. The UI is minimal: a clock, inventory, and location map.

Innovation and Flaws:
– Innovation: Its genius is in weaponizing real-world time as a game mechanic with emotional consequences. No other game so directly transfers the weight of calendar days onto the player’s psyche. The fusion of adventure game exploration with idle game passivity created a new sub-genre of “temporal idle adventures.”
– Flaws: The deliberately slow pace is a double-edged sword. For critics like Nintendo Life‘s reviewer, it became “tedious by design,” a sentiment likely shared by players without the patience (or pandemic context) to empathize with the Shade’s plight. The lack of traditional gameplay hooks—combat, complex puzzles, meaningful choices beyond the three paths—can feel like a void. The game’s length is also a barrier; missing the 400-day window for certain endings requires either extreme dedication or, ironically, not playing at all.

World-Building, Art & Sound: The Aesthetics of Despair

Setting and Atmosphere: The underground kingdom is a masterpiece of environmental storytelling. It is not a dungeon in a fantasy RPG sense but a liminal space of excavated rock, bioluminescent fungi, forgotten libraries, and echoing emptiness. The sense of scale is oppressive—the Shade is tiny against cavernous backdrops. This visual language reinforces the theme: the vast, uncaring universe versus the small, longing self.

Visual Direction: The hand-drawn art style, reminiscent of Moers’ The City of Dreaming Books, is deliberate and evocative. The palette is limited: deep blues, grays, and muted earth tones punctuated by the sickly green of fungi or the warm glow of torches. Animations are few but expressive—the Shade’s hunched posture, its slow gait, the way it huddles when cold. The art doesn’t strive for realism but for a storybook melancholy that feels both ancient and personal.

Sound Design and Music: The soundtrack, composed by Pyta with Jürgen Härtenstein and Jan Roth, is arguably the game’s most celebrated element. It is composed in the dungeon synth style—a dark ambient genre inspired by early black metal and fantasy tabletop RPGs, featuring slow, droning synthesizer melodies that evoke isolation and ancient, forgotten places. Tracks like “The Longing” and “Shade’s Lullaby” are minimal, repetitive, and hypnotic, mirroring the game’s temporal loop. Sound design amplifies atmosphere: the drip of water, the crunch of gravel underfoot, the distant, god-like rumbles of the sleeping king. The audio is not background; it is the emotional core.

Synergy of Elements: The art and sound work in concert to create what critic Lewis Gordon (Wired) called “2020’s sad and surreal lockdown energy.” The visual emptiness paired with the droning soundtrack forces the player into a state of reflective solitude. The game becomes a sensory deprivation tank for one’s own thoughts about time, isolation, and purpose.

Reception & Legacy: From Niche Curiosity to Cultural Touchstone

Critical Reception: The Longing received “generally favorable” reviews (Metacritic: 79/100 on PC). Praise centered on its:
– Atmosphere and Sound: Universally lauded (Adventure Gamers, PC Gamer Sweden, The Washington Post).
– Experimental Premise: Celebrated as a “fascinating experiment” and demonstration of “what video games could do” (The Washington Post).
– Pandemic Resonance: Critics widely noted its unc parallels to COVID-19 lockdowns. As GamesRadar+ stated, it “best sums up life in the 2020 pandemic.” This context dramatically shaped its reception, transforming it from an obscure art game into a relatable cultural artifact.

Divisive Gameplay: The slow pace was the primary point of contention. While some (Hardcore Gamer, Nintendo World Report) found the slowness “eased the player into the pacing” and fostered empathy, others (Nintendo Life, 4Players) found it “tedious” and难以沉浸 (difficult to immerse in). This split is fundamental: the game’s success hinges on the player’s willingness to surrender to its rhythm.

Awards and Recognition:
– Finalist for the Nuovo Award at the 2020 Independent Games Festival (IGF).
– Winner of “Best Debut” at the 2020 Deutscher Computerspielpreis (German Computer Game Award).
– Its IGF nomination signaled respect within the indie and experimental game community.

Legacy and Influence:
– Genre Influence: The Longing is a cornerstone of the “temporal idle adventure” sub-genre. It paved the way for games that use real-time as a core mechanic with emotional weight, such as Lingering Legacy (2021) and Neighbor: Lingering Memories (2018)—both directly referencing it in title. Its DNA is visible in later slow-burn narrative games that prioritize mood over mechanics.
– Academic and Critical Discourse: The game is frequently cited in academic papers on “game feel,” “temporal design,” and “procedural rhetoric” (using game processes to convey arguments). It is studied as a case in how games can simulate psychological states (loneliness, anticipation) through mechanics rather than just narrative.
– Cultural Artifact: Its release during the pandemic ensured it would be remembered as a time capsule of a specific global trauma. It demonstrated that games could process collective experience in real time.
– Business Model Impact: Its success on Steam ($12.99) despite niche appeal proved a market for contemplative, short-form premium indie games. It encouraged developers to take risks on “unplayable” concepts that prioritize concept over content.

Conclusion: The Weight of a Day, the Weight of a World

The Longing is not for everyone. Its glacial pace and minimalist presentation are barriers to entry. But for those who submit to its rhythm, it offers a uniquely profound interactive experience. It is a game that asks, “What do you do with endless time?” and answers with the quiet, desperate acts of a small creature in a vast dark—reading, drawing, walking, wondering. It transforms waiting from a passive state into an active, existential choice.

In video game history, it stands alongside titles like Journey (2012) for its emotional purity and Papers, Please (2013) for its moral simplicity elevated by mechanical rigor. But The Longing’s true innovation is temporal: it made the calendar a character, the clock a antagonist, and the player’s own patience the ultimate measure of engagement. It is a landmark in demonstrating that video games’ power lies not in providing escape from time, but in making us feel time’s passage—its boredom, its dread, its potential for small, meaningful acts. Six years after its quiet debut, The Longing remains a haunting, indispensable benchmark for what games can be when they dare to ask us to simply… wait.

Final Verdict: 9/10 – A masterpiece of experiential design, imperfect in its pacing but unparalleled in its ability to sculpt time into emotion. Essential for students of game design and anyone seeking a medium that reflects the profound weight of simply being alive in time.