I got murdered by a ladybug in Neverway, and that cemented it as the only game I care about this year

I've lived a thousand virtual lives. I've toppled civilizations in Dragon Age; survived a rat-infested France in Plague Tale. I've popped heads as Widowmaker in Overwatch, and gritted my teeth through more League of Legends games than I can count. I consider myself to be a pretty competent gamer: I know what makes a powerful build, and I understand the minutiae of min-maxing. Yet, in Neverway, I was killed by a ladybug. Not once, but twice. It was, at least, a simulated ladybug, but then again, perhaps that just adds some salt to the wound.

Once upon a time, I compared Neverway to Stardew Valley, and at first glance, you'd be forgiven for that. Trading out vibrant colors for muted purples, greens, and browns, on paper Neverway looks and feels like a Lovecraftian version of ConcernedApe's iconic life game, with farms to tend to, villagers to romance, and some combat to boot. But, having experienced it firsthand, Coldblood Inc.'s debut is so much more than 'yet another game like Stardew Valley.' Instead, it's a woeful tale of self-reflection, mental illness, and spiritual rebirth, with a narrative that's equal parts relatable and fantastical, and an atmosphere that oozes horror. It's the most unsettled I've felt playing a game in a long, long time.

My journey begins in the big city, where our protagonist, Fiona, appears to have been fired from her job. While she certainly fulfils the 'gloomy emo girl' stereotype, as you force yourself out of bed and into some fresh(ish) clothes, it quickly becomes apparent that Fiona is manically depressed. She trudges out to collect her belongings, congratulating herself for taking out the trash and being a "functional human being." Every interaction is hostile: from the receptionist in her former workplace to the barista outside, there's a suffocating sense of weight.

It'd be easy to categorize Fiona as simply being the 'moody, edgy protagonist,' but as someone who's dealt with depression, I saw a little bit of myself in her. The struggle to go outside; the paranoia that every social situation will go sour; pushing people away because it's just easier. As Fiona plops down on a pixel subway chair, contemplating what's next, dreaming of that postcard of that island far, far away, Neverway succeeded in making me feel something raw.

And then things started to get weird.

Neverway sits firmly in the emerging 'cozy horror game' category that we've seen appear over the past year or so - I'd place the likes of Cult of the Lamb, Cabernet, and perhaps even the highly anticipated Witchbrook in there. Where it diverges from cutesy mages and smiling pumpkins, however, is in its storytelling. As the subway lights flicker, we see ghosts (or 'Misplaces') sitting next to the carriage's only other patron. Ominously, she asks if they're visible to Fiona too, before darting off to one of the other cars, prompting a game of cat and mouse. As Fiona travels, the world around her distorts and falls apart; the sequence ends with her fellow traveler launching herself into what appears to be an abyss. And then, everything rights itself: nothing to see here.

That eeriness transcends every part of Neverway; it's still there when you flee the city and head to your new island paradise (which I called Bahumia, in honor of Not Another D&D Podcast). You're greeted by flickering streetlamps, outfitted with plaques that warn of an impending darkness. An iron door and a guard are blocking your entry. Then, there's that weird-looking science lab. As you crash into bed, still fully clothed and actively risking a bad night's sleep, the lights go out and the night falls. There's a deafening silence; the darkness has come.

While the mysterious island is where the core of the action takes place, in this particular demo I spent most of my time inside a simulation on Fiona's PC - Coldblood's keeping its secrets close to its chest. You complete various tasks as instructed by your in-game guide, Fang, with the ultimate aim of building a bridge back to the real world. As you progress, however, the simulation begins to break: red error text flickers across the screen; skeletal figures begin to appear in the dark. The music changes, more ominous and faster-paced. There's that urgency to rush to the exit, that overwhelming fear that something is wrong.

Where Stardew Valley presents the perfect home away from home, which is, in turn, the key to its global success, Neverway hits you with something entirely different. Its eldritch themes and crumbs of story are just as enticing as Stardew's boundless freedom and fancifulness. It's the first new take on the genre that's intrigued me to the same level. If Stardew is the glowing outer layer, Neverway is the grungy cousin that lurks beneath the surface, aching to claw its way out.

Thematically, then, Neverway isn't just another Stardew clone despite its initial appearance, but it's also relatively combat-centric. The entire simulation sequence revolves around learning the game's attack systems, with a well-timed dodge often being the difference between life and a painful, ladybug-induced death. Fiona's health bar isn't infinite, nor is her stamina, and her movements require a good amount of coordination. Hacking and slashing won't get you anywhere, especially with denser mobs.

As you progress, you'll add different powers to your roster by bonding with your new home's various inhabitants. In this particular instance, I help one of the characters water a virtual plant by building a watering can. This levels up my industry and scavenging skills, while simultaneously earning me Ghost Dash, which leaves a spectral version of Fiona behind that can attack enemies. I imagine that, as you level up, you'll be able to create different combinations with both your abilities and items.

During my short playthrough, I realized that you can haulyour foes off of cliffs using your Hookshot grapple gun (wish I'd known that ahead of the ladybug fight), and a cleverly-timed Ghost Dash could easily wipe out a slew of enemies. While, visually, the pixel aesthetic may give the impression that combat is easy, there's a level of fluidity, reactivity, and depth that makes Neverway feel more like a top-down action RPG than a simple farming sim.

It'd also be remiss not to shout out the game's soundtrack. Created by Disasterpiece (of Hyper Light Drifter and Fez fame), the music reacts perfectly to the world around it. It's moody when it needs to be; upbeat and electronic when combat kicks off inside your PC. It doesn't just add to the atmosphere, it is the atmosphere; it brings Fiona's journey to life, with splashes of grunge and theremin-esque beeping. If Coldblood Inc. releases any merch for Neverway, it had better be a vinyl.

Neverway is set to release in 2026. It's shot to the top of my 'most-anticipated games' list, perhaps even beating out Fable. You can wishlist it and try out its Prologue demo right here, but remember, "pay your debt at all costs." I'm not sure what that means just yet, but by the eldritch gods, I will find out.