Revolutionary Narratives: How Destroy Up Fiction Takes the Spotlight with Bold Storytelling
By If diversity is undoubtedly the zest of life, then Split Fiction must be a bottle of fiery tabasco sauce, blended with a robust dose of cayenne pepper and garnished with a generous portion of scotch bonnet chili flakes. Wow, this game is one blazing segment of diversity-packed brilliance, from its settings, its gameplay, its characters, and even its camera perspectives. Truthfully, I’m sitting here trying to capture in words all the various elements I experienced during my hands-on preview with Split Fiction, and honestly, I don’t believe I can recall everything off the top of my head. There was so much jammed into the three hours I had the chance to play, and the outcome was an absolute blast that kept me engaged throughout.
What the developer Hazelight has achieved here is to take what it did so well with its previous co-op titles A Way Out and It Takes Two, and amplify its ambition significantly. Before I get too carried away, however, let me start from the beginning, which is clearly the point where my preview commenced. Split Fiction initiates by introducing Zoe and Mio, two writers striving to get published, whose aspirations seemingly get fulfilled by a tech company known as Rader Publishing. Yet, there’s more to this story than your typical publishing house. For starters, both writers are invited to step into a simulation of their own narratives through a device known as, um, The Machine.
Zoe, an eager, wide-eyed fantasy creator from the countryside, is excited and ready to embark on this journey, but the slightly cynical, leather jacket-clad Mio is much less enthusiastic. There’s a hint that Rader’s intentions might not be as honorable as they appear on paper, and when Mio declines to enter her own simulation, Rader’s CEO (commonly referred to as Rader) is not willing to take no for an answer. In the ensuing chaos, Mio gets thrust into Zoe’s simulation world, becoming part of Zoe’s fantasy universe.
In this initial segment, Split Fiction teaches you all of its platforming essentials – double jumping, wall running, sprinting to evade incoming projectiles, shimmying up poles, grappling to traverse gaps, and, needless to say, just like in It Takes Two and A Way Out, the significance of accomplishing all of this cooperatively (many thanks to David Jenkins from Metro for being the Mio to my Zoe).
For instance, while Mio expertly activated a somewhat ominous shield-like laser wall, Zoe was able to grapple to a secure ledge before returning the favor on the other side. Moments later, coordinating key presses on a console pad allowed us to commandeer a ship, and then in another vessel, Zoe had to shoot down approaching enemy ships while Mio piloted them both to (relative) safety and another glitch portal. All of this took place in just the first fifteen minutes, and while sure, it was a tutorial, it successfully drew me into the action and captivated my interest.
Speaking of being drawn in, that is precisely what happens next to Mio and Zoe. As soon as they touch the glitch in Mio’s sci-fi narrative, they are transported back into Zoe’s fantasy world… but it’s a rather different place from the story she shared with Rader Publishing. Hmm, yes, something clearly amiss is happening here…
I can’t delve into too many narrative details here, as I wouldn’t want to spoil too much. However, I can confirm this: each of the primary narrative levels I played through felt wonderfully inventive. From the more combat-oriented sci-fi sequences to the puzzle-focused fantasy segments, everything felt fresh and unique, as if I had never encountered these ideas before. Rather than recycling old, well-known fantasy and sci-fi tropes, I felt like Hazelight continually kept the surprises coming at every turn.
For example, over the course of three hours, I got to play as a Cyber Ninja wielding a gravity whip (which was extremely handy for yanking enemies off ledges like a futuristic Indiana Jones), I escaped from a massive, orb-shaped ‘parking attendant’ boss who believed launching cars and firing lasers at me served as a fitting punishment for some overdue parking tickets, and I transformed into a metallic zorb-like ball that could emit a magnetic aura allowing me to roll up walls. In other areas, there were gravity pads enabling Mio to sprint across ceilings, and at one point I truly felt like I was in Tron as I hurled pool toys (yes, pool toys) at flying vehicles, all while riding on the back of a bike. Another time, I transformed into a ball in a grand pinball-inspired level while my co-op partner operated numerous levers to launch me up shoots and (occasionally) into the abyss.
The highlight of the main sci-fi segments for me, however, was a section from a stage called Final Level. Here, both Mio and Zoe possessed blaster weapons as well as shield-busting grenades, but they were color-coded to only damage specific enemies and objects. Zoe was responsible for the blue targets, while Mio focused on the red foes, although there were additional adversaries in the mix that could be harmed by both. The outcome was effectively one enormous futuristic side-scrolling adventure, with elements reminiscent of both Portal and Metroid.
I felt a sense of connection as I became Samus Aran, navigating through portals to access different regions within the level, before we ultimately battled a massive robotic antagonist known as the Overseer, who attempted to obliterate us with lasers of various types. He was quite the formidable opponent, let me tell you.
Meanwhile, on the fantasy side of things, I played alongside a dragon that had the ability to roll up into a compact ball to move heavy objects—similar to a Goron from The Legend of Zelda. I also transformed into a shrimp fairy capable of gliding through a mystical forest glade, and a towering Ent-like tree creature that could extend its limbs to reach distant edges. It was all quite enjoyable.
As mentioned earlier, the fantasy segments I explored were more focused on puzzles than the energetic and frantic action sequences showcased in the preview’s sci-fi portions, but I am thrilled to report that they were just as captivating, despite their more intellectual aims and settings. For instance, in a section called Rise of the Dragon Realm, the two characters had to unlock magical gates by combining strength with a dragon’s acidic breath to revive spirits within a temple. This required quite a bit of strategizing with my co-op partner, as we had to use our dragons to scale grassy cliffs, create ethereal platforms for each other to leap across, and maneuver a series of golden orbs down precarious and genuinely rather rickety chutes.
This change of pace was welcome after several of the sci-fi segments, which, I must admit, left me with a slight cramp in my hand from gripping the controller so tightly amidst the mounting tension. I jest (just a little), but I genuinely appreciated the opportunity to take a small breather here, and I realize I keep mentioning it, but the variety on offer significantly enhanced the overall experience. After every segment, I was eager to discover where I would venture next and what I would be doing upon arrival.
Far from Split Fiction’s already rich main narrative, there are also optional side stories that can be discovered tucked away within the game as small portals that whisk you away from the core gameplay. These are a notable evolution from It Takes Two’s mini-games, as rather than being a trivial side-quest plopped within a level like everyone’s familiar ‘Whack-a-Cody,’ these side stories are more akin to compact levels of their own.
During the preview, I played through two of these side tales. The first was based on a story Zoe wrote in her youth and took place on a farm. One of the most amusing aspects was how it reimagined each character as a ‘Big Pig’ within the narrative, rather than retaining their familiar human forms. Let it be known “Hold Y to wallow” is now my favorite gaming quote.
In these fresh piggy forms, Zoe and Mio had to navigate through the farmyard home and collect apples to feed a variety of hungry doors. Cooperation in platforming was once again essential, with Zoe’s pig being able to stretch into a large spring to enable her to jump higher, while Mio’s pig could release a significant amount of gas to propel herself through the air like a genuinely windy set of bellows, leading to plenty of laughter between myself and my co-op partner. At one moment, I (as Zoe) jumped onto one end of a shovel, launching Mio—who was on the opposite end—into the air. Mio then expelled gas to propel herself onto an otherwise unreachable ledge to grab an apple for that rather peckish door.
In addition to causing fits of laughter with our ridiculous pigs, this section also held plenty of other humor. We encountered a massive pig, and jumping into its belly caused it to let out a resounding flatulence, complete with a cloud of green gas. We also stumbled across the Three Little Pigs from nursery rhyme fame and were able to knock down their houses. “I didn’t anticipate that farting force,” exclaimed the brick h