In Backrooms Test you will be navigating your way through eerily familiar but ultimately senseless and meaningless areas. I would say less "landscape" and more "corridorscape". You find your way from one to another, usually in order but sometimes to one that is not listed.
Everything is made of repeated structures that are familiar in shape but ultimately their arrangement and they way they form into totality makes no sense. It is made of parts of the built human environment, but never arranged in any logical way. There are doors, but only a few actually operate. Some of them could only possibly lead to a cupboard, but then, it would be a cupboard with doors on both sides. There are deceptive corridors and walkways that lead to dead ends. The place is not the product of design; it frustrates attempts to understand it as a useful design.
As you wander the corridors the first time, you discover a natural progression of levels. You complete a cycle. It begins again. But sometimes, the cycle is a bit different, and you end up in a different level you haven't seen before. You have no true idea of how many levels there are. They are numbered, but are there gaps? Could there really be that many levels? There is only one way to be sure: to look at the source code, but there is no going back from shattering the illusion. Perhaps though, adding your own level is part of adding your own part to the collective human dreamscape?
Sometimes, you see the sky. Sometimes it is lit, sometimes it is dark. But there is never any sun or moon. There is a morning and an evening of a sort, but no sunrise and no sunset. The idea of day and night, is just another broken, distorted reflection instead of the familiar reality.
The experience is like a dream, and ultimately you are permanently lost in a place that should not exist, cannot exist, but through a video game is imagined to exist anyway. It would be maddening to stay and "play" forever, but it's worth a visit to ponder.
In Backrooms Test you will be navigating your way through eerily familiar but ultimately senseless and meaningless areas. I would say less "landscape" and more "corridorscape". You find your way from one to another, usually in order but sometimes to one that is not listed.
Everything is made of repeated structures that are familiar in shape but ultimately their arrangement and they way they form into totality makes no sense. It is made of parts of the built human environment, but never arranged in any logical way. There are doors, but only a few actually operate. Some of them could only possibly lead to a cupboard, but then, it would be a cupboard with doors on both sides. There are deceptive corridors and walkways that lead to dead ends. The place is not the product of design; it frustrates attempts to understand it as a useful design.
As you wander the corridors the first time, you discover a natural progression of levels. You complete a cycle. It begins again. But sometimes, the cycle is a bit different, and you end up in a different level you haven't seen before. You have no true idea of how many levels there are. They are numbered, but are there gaps? Could there really be that many levels? There is only one way to be sure: to look at the source code, but there is no going back from shattering the illusion. Perhaps though, adding your own level is part of adding your own part to the collective human dreamscape?
Sometimes, you see the sky. Sometimes it is lit, sometimes it is dark. But there is never any sun or moon. There is a morning and an evening of a sort, but no sunrise and no sunset. The idea of day and night, is just another broken, distorted reflection instead of the familiar reality.
The experience is like a dream, and ultimately you are permanently lost in a place that should not exist, cannot exist, but through a video game is imagined to exist anyway. It would be maddening to stay and "play" forever, but it's worth a visit to ponder.