Eagerly awaited and something one longs to find they may be, demos that hook you from the word go, remain a cautious double-edged sword. Find something that not only draws you in, but keeps you fixated on its deliberately-limited scope – to the point of ample repeat visits – and suddenly the inevitable "full release" comes packaged with added questions. How much grander in scope and indeed depth, compared to the demo, will it be? Will that initial surprise and delight, carry through to grander outcomes? Has said demo [un]intentionally played its strongest hand, in that aforementioned pursuit to draw curious eyes in, at the expense of some more crucial consistency later on?
Those few handful of demos I've experienced in year's past that fall into this category, have all gone through this same progression and later reflection of thoughts. Surprised delight at the ease with which a demo has grabbed me (and continues to do so through increased hours invested), to inevitably transition to thoughts concerning the full game's breadth of content. Have I already seen this game's major tricks and turns, or are there still unexpected surprises lying in wait?
I'll admit first and foremost that the premise of solving nonograms in a roguelike, dungeon-crawling fashion, is an easy sell for someone in my position. A self-confessed puzzle sicko; be it Nonograms, Sudoku, crosswords. Anything that revolves around grids, deduction and the reliance on clues to acetain positioning of crucial solutions...will seldom be passed up. So add to that a dark fantasy aesthetic, a permanent progression loop and wildest of all, that all this is time-based – a seemingly antithetical crease to the kind of puzzle-solving reliant on absolute patience – and naturally, of course one would be chomping at the bit to check a game like CiniCross out.
But good Lord did this game's demo land its hooks deep within me! Deeper and with greater bite than even I had expected. While I'll refrain from claiming developer Hydrobates must, themselves, be some kind of deranged nonogram lunatic, for devising something so persistent and gnawing on one's attention...let's just say that such a revelation, wouldn't surprise me. Because while CiniCross' premise may find itself filtering out a huge swathe of those unwilling to buy into a game revolving around predominantly static interactions staring at grids might entail, to say CiniCross is easily replayable, would not simply be a mere understatement.
It'd fundamentally ignore what makes this game such a delight: that previously-mentioned antithetical inclusion of being pitted against the clock...and just how great that inclusion is. Being in the mold of dungeon-crawling, runs in CiniCross revolve around just how far and for how long one can survive before one's HP hits zero. Multiple branching paths offering varied avenues for potential benefits – restored health, items to purchase etc. The very floors themselves, increasing in difficulty the further one delves; namely, boards one must solve, growing larger and more complex in their solutions.
But so too does the rate with which your timer depletes. A pixelated dial – in a game of quite splendid pixel detail, right down to the hanging threads of moss and other such filth in this gloomy dungeon aesthetic. And while hitting zero on that timer doesn't necessarily spell the end, it's certainly a state best avoided if one truly wishes to have a lengthy run. More importantly, what makes CiniCross' eventual moment-to-moment play interesting, is through that almost-personal importance placed on solving a puzzle the "correct" way. Or rather: is taking one's time so as to not incur mistakes (every incorrect noting of a tile inuring a loss to one's HP) the more profitable means to survive, or is simply brute-forcing your way a more sufficient use of such scarce a resource that in-game minutes and seconds in this game, ends up being?
"In-game" being quite the operative terminology here, not least when the rate of passage increases beyond the standard x1.00 speed. A metric that can not only increase, but something one can (when the opportunity arises) decrease through item usage and employed passive skills. It isn't long before you find yourself worryingly making passing glances at that very clock. Ticking down as it does – at worst, at its currently abnormal pace – and the dilemma on how much virtue patience truly plays, becomes critical. How expendable is one's health, truly? Is it a risk worth taking? On the question of branching paths: is it worth bearing the brunt of a level 4 board – the sprawl of a 20x20 grid staring you in the face – knowing there's a shop tile straight after? Or better to play it safe with three level 0 equivalents?
Naturally, CiniCross provides helpful assistance in-between boards. Each successful clearing of a board resulting in both an injection of time to add to the clock, but also a casino-like spin of the wheel and pull of a lever slot machine-style. CiniCross' default means of upping one's chances of survival through collectible, property-assigned items – improving stats with incremental changes that may seem insignificant at first, but with enough repeated acquisitions of that same item, may begin to turn the tide.
In some cases, affecting the boards themselves – opportunities to, for example, drop expendable items onto a board and automatically solve targeted spots or best of all, making certain spaces glitter gold. Said gold squares, themselves, ticking down with their window of opportunity. Further reinforcing that prior notion on one's personal stance on the merits of brute-forcing and that tempting caveat to score some additional coin.
As "busy" and cluttered the game can appear at times – not least when the means of survival is as simple as managing one's health and time so that it's kept above zero – CiniCross does just enough for its ocassionally convoluted jumble of sprites and stats, to feel in anyway cumbersome. Granted, not all of its unlocks or items to find feel entirely well-balanced or worth the noted trade-off's. Incuring guaranteed double-damage, but the trade-off is that there's a 5% chance that something good might happen? No thanks.
This goes doubly so for its end-of-floor boss battle encounters, that involve having to grapple with an included "rule" or condition to be wary of. Hidden solutions, tiles that damage you if they're not solved in time, entire rows/columns resetting if just one mistake is made in their respective reach. Most of which, pleasantly left-field in their efforts to trip players up and easy to work around if, again, one is patience with your decision-making. But a small remainder however, feeling like little more than back-end meddling in a run of good fortune, all in the name of "difficulty".
Not unlike even the recent titanic marvels of roguelite design via names like Balatro; insisting on a little placing one's thumbs on the scales, all in the name of providing a bit more for players to tackle and suffering moreso as a consequence. A small criticism that, thankfully, the developer appears to have acknowledged post-launch. At the time of writing, a series of patches and balance tweaks, aiming to address these concerns and in some cases, make certain once-avoidable items and boss fights, more enticing to grapple with.
But when it comes down to it, I'm confident in one's surmising that any game that can have me stay up to the early hours of the morning, just to see a desired multi-floor run through to completion, must be doing something right. And through grit, determination and comically, running the risk of crashing the game entirely due to how busted and overpowered certain builds can get, CiniCross has been an utter delight to make repeat visits to again and again.
Even if the stand-alone concept of nonograms on their own, doesn't sound all that enticing a prospect, developer Hydrobates' goes beyond nailing the fundamentals of roguelite progression – permanent upgrades, build diversity, emergent risk:reward scenarios. CiniCross on top weaves in a more interesting take on the need/desire to brute-force. Arguably this game's most compelling trait. Alas, another title with which my newfound achievement-hunting tendencies look to have gotten the better of me, as I aim now to mop up the final half-dozen tasks. But such a chase would not happen were it not for CiniCross' moreish tendencies. To wind all that around nonogram puzzles of all things, is a delight in of itself.
