Children Of The Sun
The perspective might have changed, but the abrasive, video-nasty vibe of Hotline Miami is here in abundance
Developer René Rother
Publisher Devolver Digital
Format PC
Release Out now
René Rother’s acrid revenge thriller – an action game with its limbs broken and forcibly rearranged into the shape of a spatial puzzler – is at once a bona fide original and an unlikely throwback. Cast your eyes right and you wouldn’t blink if we told you this was a forgotten Grasshopper Manufacture game from the early PS3 era (we won’t be at all surprised if this finds a spot on Suda51’s end-of-year list). But otherwise it feels like a Devolver Digital joint from the publisher’s early days. We’re thinking of one game in particular: the perspective might have changed, but the abrasive, video-nasty vibe of Hotline Miami is here in abundance. Like in that game, you’ve effectively got one chance – but whereas there a single bullet could bring about your end, here it is your salvation.
Licking the barrel of her rifle, it’s evident that our masked protagonist takes some measure of enjoyment from her murderous work. Having escaped from a deadly cult, she now returns to erase all trace of it – with just one round in the chamber. As she visits a string of cult gatherings, she must take out every member in a single surgical strike. A bullet might seem an unstoppable force, but to her it’s not an immovable object; rather, she can use her telekinetic powers to steer it between targets, in the manner of Yondu’s whistle-guided yaka arrow from Guardians Of The Galaxy.
It’s not entirely clear why she doesn’t bring more ammo with her, but then you’ll probably have accepted that logic takes a back seat in a game in which that round remains live after connecting with a skull, an arm, or a more delicate area. And by the back half you’ll have discovered she’s not the only one with unearthly abilities; should she be detected, you sense the consequences will be as fatal for her as they are for her quarry. Which explains why she must keep her distance, circling a compound (or petrol station, or propaganda rally) to pick out her targets. A number in the top right tells you how many kills you need; any you spot from range can be marked by depressing the mouse wheel. Then, having picked your vantage point, you take careful aim and get ready to squeeze the trigger.
There’s plenty to savour in this exquisite pairing of tension and release. As you crouch-run to find the ideal spot to fire, your footsteps are accompanied by what sounds like a bassist’s digits nervily fingering a downtuned bottom string, while on the title screen drumsticks dance a jittery jig on the ride cymbal. But when that bullet connects with a human skull, releasing a fountain of red as your target slumps lifelessly to the floor, those same sticks smash down with vicious force, just as they did when simian fist met human face in Ape Out. Catharsis, however, doesn’t come yet, not entirely; this might be the first of a dozen cult members, and now you must reorient the camera, turning it to face the
Rother ramps up the difficulty in some smart ways as well as some rather ungainly ones. Toward the end, a very different kind of shield requires you to target the same enemy twice, while gaining sufficient distance from armoured opponents to take them down with a sped-up bullet proves an enjoyable challenge. That particular ability serves as a delicious risk-reward mechanic while score-chasing: trading accuracy for speed can sometimes pay off, but on occasion you’ll want to get to a moving target quicker, perhaps before their path takes them behind a pillar or their arm swings down, hiding their weak point. Each stage has bonus objectives, too, hinted at in a subhead below the level’s title – the kind of secret anyone working in print can appreciate. next target. In some cases, your second mark has witnessed what happened to the first, and here Children Of The Sun comes closest to that moment in Hotline Miami when it stares into your soul and asks: do you like hurting other people? You can imagine the spreading grin behind the mask of this angel of death as the bullet twists impossibly in mid-air, now lined up with the panic-stricken face of cult member number two, their sprint for safety about to be cut brutally short.
It’s a deliberately uncomfortable moment. Over time, though, you become desensitised to that sight, no longer seeing the humanity of your targets, but instead thinking about the order in which to dispose of them (which itself leaves a festering unease). You can excuse it as a natural by-product of the sometimes-frustrating trial-and-error process of completing a stage, particularly as the topography becomes more complex, with timing also a factor: not all your targets are static, after all. In some levels, you won’t be able to tag them all before you’ve fired, requiring you to spot them from your bullet’s-eye-view instead. Narrowing your eyes, you might confuse a car’s headlamps for the glow of a distant skull – though the former can be useful targets, since striking a fuel tank is enough to keep your round airborne. And if an enemy or two are nearby, so much the better, since multi-kills boost your score.
New types of cultist are introduced, and with them fresh powers. You can apply a small degree of aftertouch to a bullet in mid-flight, correcting for errant aiming or a target’s sudden movement. Other marks come with shields, so you must hit them from behind; luckily, you gain the ability to completely redirect a bullet, albeit only by first striking two enemies in their glowing weak points. Armoured cultists, meanwhile, need to be hit at a certain velocity, forcing you to manually speed up your bullet’s movement until it warps the world around it, the force causing a burst of sparks as it thunders home. These effects reflect a world that throbs and buzzes with violence, reflected in its acid-hued aesthetic – at once too bright and too dark – and the squalls of feedback and white noise that greet you when you finish a stage with a full complement of corpses.
Children Of The Sun wears that rawness like a badge of honour, its rough edges not sanded down but rather made so jagged as to draw blood. As such, while it alights on several brilliant ideas (one stage pits you against a ticking clock), it swerves down as many design cul-de-sacs (a vehicular set-piece is as exasperating as it is exhilarating). But in the age of AI, perhaps we need more games like this – games with an untrammelled, go-for-broke energy, unbothered by conventional notions of balance or refinement or good taste. Such furious vengeance defies efficiency: it’s only right that a game about leaving a trail of gory destruction should be at least a little messy in its execution.