Hylics (2015) by Mason Lindroth is a surreal claymation indie RPG noted for its unique visuals, unconventional gameplay, and ambiguous narrative, thus defying standard game design and storytelling norms.
The game follows Wayne, a quirky protagonist exploring a post-apocalyptic dream world full of strange creatures and abstract challenges. Its combat system is based on traditional turn-based mechanics but messes with player expectations through weird terms and descriptions of surreal abilities. This gameplay is closely tied to the narrative, where typical storytelling takes a backseat to abstract symbolism and dreamlike logic.
Aarseth’s ludology theory explores games through mechanics, not storytelling. His concept of “ergodic literature” highlights the player’s interaction with digital texts, where systems and choices, such as replacing “health” with “flesh,” create meaning and reinforce themes.
Henry Jenkins’ view on storytelling adds to our understanding of how Hylics builds meaning through spatial storytelling and player interaction. Jenkins argues that games create narratives through embedded elements and moments of natural emergence, with abstract environments and non-linear structures shaping their impact.
Jenkins’ idea of “spatial stories” (refers to how stories are told through the design and layout of a game’s environment) perfectly fits the game’s dreamlike environments, where the story unfolds through exploration and discovery instead of clear-cut storytelling. The game’s surreal landscapes and strange characters act as what Jenkins calls “evocative spaces”—environments that hint at narrative possibilities and encourage player interpretation without forcing a strict story.
Jenkins’ framework is key to understanding how the game balances pre-made narrative content and player-driven interpretation. The game’s intentional narrative ambiguity and focus show the tension Jenkins talks about between designer-created story elements and meaning that players discover on their own.
Aarseth and Jenkins’ theories fit the game well because they focus on player interaction and how games use mechanics to tell a story. Aarseth talks about it, where players must actively figure out the game’s systems, like messing around with weird abilities and solving strange puzzles—something the game totally nails. His idea of cybertext also fits because the game makes players work through its cryptic mechanics to understand the world.
Jenkins focuses on how games tell stories through world design instead of dialogue or cutscenes. The game uses surreal environments and cryptic NPCs to build a story that players discover as they explore, which aligns with Jenkins’ idea.
Combat encounters in the game show what Aarseth would call “meaningful play through systematic interaction.” Players work with a complex system of abilities and resources that ditch traditional RPG terms, “flesh” replaces health points, and “gestalt” stands in for magic or special abilities. This abstraction of familiar mechanics creates what Aarseth calls “non-trivial effort,” pushing players to learn and make sense of new systems instead of relying on genre conventions.
The game’s approach to player agency shows in its combat choices and exploration mechanics, where players have to figure out the meaning and use of abilities with cryptic names and descriptions, getting involved in what Aarseth calls it.
Video games require players to control characters, solve puzzles, or change the story, while interactive fiction involves exploring branching narratives. It blurs the line between “reader” and “writer,” a key aspect of literary design.
Ludology in the game stands out with its quirky mechanics and abstract design. Combat follows a turn-based RPG format but switches things up with cryptic ability names like “Gestural Summon” and surreal animations, making players experiment to figure out what they do. Random skills can cure or inflict status effects, encouraging trial and error. Likewise, the fragmented, dreamlike landscape with hidden paths and objects rewards curiosity, making exploration a puzzle.
Hylics‘ approach to game structure and progression breaks from the conventional design while still keeping what Aarseth would consider meaningful gameplay systems. The game’s non-linear exploration and abstract progression mechanics challenge traditional ideas of game structure while creating their internal logic.
“Cybertextual dynamics” explores how texts or games function interactively, particularly in digital formats. Aarseth’s concept of cybertext treats texts as machines that generate meaning through user interaction. Ludology and narratology examine how mechanics and form shape the user experience and narrative. The game’s environmental design showcases his ideas on spatial navigation and player agency, where spaces are more than just visuals—they are interactive areas players must explore. It highlights spatial exploration as a key gameplay element, not just a storytelling tool.
Hylics‘ intentional twist on traditional mechanics highlights what Aarseth calls the difference between surface-level presentation and deeper systemic interaction. While the game’s abstract style rejects conventional game design, its underlying systems show an intelligent grasp of solid ludological principles.
The puzzle-solving shows off its mechanical depth. Instead of using clear instructions or traditional puzzle design, the game pushes players to figure things out by experimenting and paying attention. This ties into Aarseth’s idea that meaning comes from players actively engaging with the game instead of passively experiencing it.
Hylics shows off Jenkins’ idea of it with its mysterious character encounters. The game’s unique visual style acts as what Jenkins calls “evocative spaces,” where the story unfolds through the player’s exploration and interpretation of the world. The handmade claymation environments do not deliver the narrative through direct explanation but through visual and atmospheric storytelling, fitting perfectly with Jenkins’ theory of spatial narrative.
The game’s world-building reflects Jenkins’ embedded narrative, with bits of story scattered throughout its abstract architecture, strange artifacts, and cryptic dialogue, reinforcing the game space’s “narrative architecture.”
The non-linear narrative structure of Hylics fits with Jenkins’ idea of emergent storytelling. Instead of a traditional storyline, the game progresses through the player’s interactions with the world and systems, creating “micronarratives” where small moments build up to a larger narrative.
Player interpretation is key to understanding the game’s abstract narrative. The game is intentionally unclear, and storytelling matches Jenkins’ idea of a player-driven narrative, where meaning comes from active involvement instead of passively taking things in. It creates what Jenkins calls a “narrative sandbox,” where players must actively help build the story from the game’s surreal elements.
How do player actions shape the narrative in Hylics, reflecting Jenkins’ idea of acted stories? Although the game has a set framework, each player’s journey feels unique, which is in line with Jenkins’ theory of how games build meaningful stories through interaction rather than traditional structure.
The game seamlessly blends narrative elements into its gameplay, showing off Jenkins’ idea of narrative architecture in action. The surreal combat and abstract progression are not just there for mechanics—they help build the story, too. This approach nails Jenkins’ idea that games can create narrative meaning through their systems, not just traditional storytelling.
In Hylics, the connection between gameplay systems and narrative elements blurs the line between ludology and narratology. Aarseth’s focus on gameplay mechanics and Jenkins’ emphasis on narrative construction come together here, showing how these elements can seamlessly merge through clever design.
The game’s abstract combat system perfectly shows this integration. Swapping out traditional RPG terms for surreal ones does double duty, working mechanically and narratively simultaneously. For example, using “flesh” instead of health points engages players in what Aarseth calls meaningful gameplay while tapping into Jenkins’ idea of embedded narrative elements. This dual role challenges the usual divide between gameplay and story, proving it is more flexible than people think.
Its surrealist elements add layers of complexity to both frameworks. It pushes back against Aarseth’s focus on clear, systematic interaction by weaving deliberate ambiguity into its mechanics. It also expands Jenkins’ concept of narrative architecture, creating spaces and interactions that defy traditional interpretations.
The game blurs the line between gameplay and story, where exploring its abstract systems goes hand-in-hand with uncovering its narrative. It shows that ludology and narratology are most effective when combined rather than seen as opposing approaches.
The game’s unique take on game design shows that we need a more integrated theory that recognizes how deeply gameplay mechanics and narrative can be connected. While both ludology and narratology offer valuable insights, the game proves that these perspectives can complement each other instead of contradicting them.
The synthesis suggests a “unified game theory,” in which game mechanics and narrative elements work together to create meaning. The integration is seen in the game’s surreal presentation, where both exist in an abstract space outside traditional categories.
References
- Aarseth, E. J. (1997). Cybertext: Perspectives on Ergodic Literature. Johns Hopkins University Press.
- Jenkins, H. (2004). Game Design as Narrative Architecture. In N. Wardrip-Fruin & P. Harrigan (Eds.), First Person: New Media as Story, Performance, and Game (pp. 118–130). MIT Press.
- Lindroth, M. (2015). Hylics [Video game]. Mason Lindroth.