Indika Review
- Taylor Rioux
- 21 hours ago
- 5 min read
Indika is strange. It's a third-person narrative adventure game that isn't always third-person. It’s a dark and serious 3D puzzler that is also sometimes a pixel-art platformer. It’s down-to-earth, except for, you know, all the supernatural elements. It is a game that is never content to fulfil all of your expectations. Indika is wonderful.
Indika is also the name of our protagonist, a young nun of small stature and quiet demeanor. Taking place in a fictionalized 19th-century Russia, the events of Indika follow Indika as she tries, unsuccessfully, to navigate life in the convent while the devil speaks to her in her head. Indika’s odd mannerisms and awkward demeanor seem to push the other nuns away, as they treat Indika with a level of disdain that could gently be described as “cruel.” This frayed relationship with her sisters is no doubt the reason Indika is eventually put on the road to deliver a letter.
Developer: Odd Meter Publisher: 11 bit studios Platform: Played on PC (Steam) Availability: Released May 2, 2024 on Windows PC, May 17, 2024 on PS5, Xbox Series X/S, and November 17, 2025 on Nintendo Switch. |
Early on in this task, a few things become apparent. First, Indika is quite naive. She easily trusts those around her to do right by her, and when they fail her in some way, she is quick to forgive. Second, she is deeply disturbed. I did mention that she speaks to the Devil in her mind, but this relationship goes far beyond pestering voices. The Devil and his disturbances shape the world around Indika, opening new pathways for exploration and changing the visual perception of people and objects in the world around her. The Devil can be brought to a whisper through prayer, but as the manifestation of Indika’s doubt in her religion, he can never be fully exorcized.
The Devil is not the only disturbance Indika feels, but the veracity of her perception can at times be difficult to determine. A 20-foot-tall cow and a 10-foot-tall dog are surely exaggerations, but what about the spaces we move through? How much of the environment is real? Is any of it? Indika navigates these spaces as she sees them, but where are we really? When we view Indika’s past as a pixelated, 2D isometric experience, how much of that is true?
The strangeness of Indika extends beyond the titular character, as well. In the opening hour of the game, we are joined by Ilya, a former soldier and escaped prisoner with some religious fervor and a necrotized arm. Ilya believes that he has been chosen by god and endeavors to find a means to heal his dead appendage. Ilya works as a great foil by his nature as a pious man, certain of his holiness and sure in his faith. In this way, he and Indika reflect one another, presenting opposing ideas on the nature of religion and what it means to be pious. Where Indika examines her own faith, questioning it and putting it to the test, Ilya remains cocksure. He has an answer for everything. And while answers are exactly what Indika desires to temper her faith, Ilyas's answers do not satiate that curiosity.
Where Indika examines her own faith, questioning it and putting it to the test, Ilya remains cocksure.
The examination of the nature of religion is interesting, often making pointed comparisons to the practice of religion and playing a game. Indika’s faith is represented by experience points, which are gained after every pious act performed. When you pray at an altar, light candles at a shrine, or engage in some typically religious activity, you are awarded some number of points. Reach a specific threshold and your faith levels up! The game does note early on that chasing these points is meaningless; you can’t pay your way into Heaven, but that did not stop me (and by extension Indika) from trying it all the same.
Beyond the “points” system and levels involved, Indika utilizes both mundane and absurd imagery (often juxtaposed) to paint a memorable canvas upon which the game is played, and through which the aforementioned ideas and themes can be further enhanced or examined. At the risk of drowning in vagueness, I must refrain from providing too much in the way of explicit interpretation here. Indika is a short enough game that it could be played through in only a few hours, and there are enough activities to engage in and places to explore in that short runtime to make a consistently arresting experience. So, while I am gesturing broadly at the idea of “ideas”, I would simply implore you to look a little closer at the scenery, and listen to what the characters are saying. Sometimes, a room full of fish is more than just a room full of fish.
While there is a strong sense that so much of the game’s narrative and imagery are painstakingly deliberate, there is at least one moment near the end that is a bit tonally inconsistent with the rest of Indika. Throughout my entire playthrough, I couldn't help but feel like so much of what was being said or shown was carefully constructed to present the ideas as something to be equally as carefully considered by the player. This single moment right before the end of the game does not quite meet that standard.
I am just unsure how any of it fits into the overall messaging that had been extolled up to that point. In some ways, it felt like the writers were looking for a way to move things along and end Indika after having written themselves into a corner, but I do not have any certainty here, either. Was it something I missed? Was there some message or meaning to these events that has escaped my grasp? The uncertainty sours the already abrupt ending that follows.
This narrative confusion in the closing act does not materially affect how I view the rest of the game, thankfully, but the same cannot be said for the crux of the engagement: actually playing Indika.
The imagery goes a long way toward making the exploration segments visually interesting, but does nothing to improve what is, fundamentally, a lifeless walk for most of the game. The opening moments are particularly excruciating, such as when it tasks you with slowly delivering five buckets of water to another nun. The puzzles throughout Indika are rarely inventive or even interesting, and most of your navigation amounts to little more than holding the stick forward. There are moments of lucidity, however, such as the pixel sprite segments that serve as the vehicles for the largest deviation in gameplay mechanics.
As negative as this sounds, I rarely think of those moments in retrospect. While the act of walking itself may be boring, so much of what makes Indika special also unfolds in those same moments. You’re very rarely just walking; conversations between characters, absurd visual spectacle, and even some object collection take place simultaneously with the otherwise mechanically dull traversal. There is also something to be said about simply performing the act of being Indika, as the boredom of the opening section and “normal” exploration may reflect Indika’s disillusionment with her life as a nun. Rather than focus on any individual element, the totality of what Indika does is positively enchanting.
Verdict Indika is an absurdly arresting experience. Its strong character writing, bold visuals, and excellent acting all contribute to delivering a story that consistently surprises. Its oscillation between realistic, dour moments and the humorous and absurd makes each moment shine, while also serving to blend the game into a coherent, cohesive whole. Sure, the overarching story and themes may not be exceptionally profound, but the carefulness and deliberateness with which those elements are generally handled make this a powerful experience. ![]() |
Image Credits: Odd Meter




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