One of the truly remarkable aspects of humanity is our ability to adapt and flourish, even in the most challenging environments. Consider the unique setting of “Threshold,” an indie game crafted by a developer with experience on titles like “Deathloop” and “Dishonored.” This game unfolds high atop a mountain, where you’re thrust into one of the most nerve-wracking maintenance jobs imaginable. As I stand watching trains glide by, ensuring everything runs smoothly, the thin, mountain air makes each breath feel like a battle. My predecessor lies buried nearby, and my co-worker is visibly relieved to have someone share the load.
Interestingly, the game touts a country-based difficulty system, as highlighted on its Steam page. Opting for Canada, the game kicks off with my homeland’s flag and name in a rather foreboding manner. Upon entering my modest worker’s room, I spot a shirt proclaiming “I love Ottawa.” As a devoted Torontonian, this instantly feels like a personal affront—a subtle psychological jab from the game.
In my first stint in “Threshold,” I immerse myself in the routine tasks of the job. Given the option, I choose the two-letter name “Bo.” My fellow worker, Mo, guides me through the ropes. The day-to-day involves sounding a massive horn when a train slows, which spurs it to pick up speed again. I also handle punch-tickets, which I exchange for precious vials of air—crucial for survival in this scarce environment. However, using them isn’t without cost, as biting into one leaves me invigorated yet spitting blood.
Mo kindly shares some tips to ease the grind of our shifts. For instance, heading to the sluice gate to scrape away calcified deposits rewards me with extra tickets. But, the station’s layout is frustratingly cumbersome, requiring constant detours and weaving around buildings. Couldn’t the station’s designer have added a few doors to streamline things? It feels like this oversight is intentional, akin to the frail air vials that shatter for use—whoever set this up seems to enjoy adding small snags to each task.
Despite these quirks, I put in the effort, gradually amassing a small collection of air vials. Perhaps it’s courtesy of that difficulty setting, but I find myself breathing quite comfortably. That’s when “Threshold” unfurls its true complexity. Secrets are scattered all over the map, unraveling the narrative as you uncover them. Discovering a corpse, for instance, prompts a conversation with Mo. Or stumbling upon a hidden door opened with a whistle reveals a magical area abundant with air and the opportunity to probe curiosities uncovered during shifts. Part of me longs to remain there, yet duty calls—the train’s schedule is relentless.
“Threshold” is presented with simplistic PSX-style graphics, and its lack of music fosters a serene focus on keeping the train rolling and handling tickets. It becomes a almost soothing as I fall into a groove with the clatter of gears and the rhythmic whirr of ticket printing. Completing “Threshold” takes slightly over an hour, but the array of hidden secrets and diverse endings encourages multiple playthroughs.
Debuting on November 19 for Windows PC, “Threshold” was reviewed using a download code courtesy of Critical Reflex. Vox Media partakes in affiliate partnerships, which do not sway our editorial content; however, they might earn commissions for purchases made via affiliate links. For more, check out Polygon’s ethics guidelines.
