Before players reached Little Nightmares‘ final act, they were forced to guide protagonist Six through one of gaming’s most grotesque chase scenes. A banquet of obese, deformed humans who towered over the yellow raincoat-wearing protagonist caught wind of her and proceeded to ravenously seek her out as the next morsel. Stumbling over plates and food, these “people” reached out for Six as she ran to escape. The stampede of flesh remains one of the most chilling moments I’ve ever witnessed in a game and cemented Little Nightmares as a classic among the likes of Limbo and Inside.
It is by this standard that I held Little Nightmares II. Would the sequel manage to duplicate and improve upon the original’s madness and deliver claustrophobic chills and distressing solutions to puzzles? Would the monsters pull at the psyche and make players cringe in anticipation of their next unsettling move? Would there be anything like that chase scene?
After all, what is the job of a sequel if not to outdo the accomplishments or repair the problems of its precursor?
Little Nightmares II does more than tread familiar waters. It plunges players deeper into mystery by showing new parts of the world yet holding back exposition and explanation. Monsters are still terrifying but new protagonist Mono is not entirely defenseless. There are chases and grisly solutions to obstacles. It’s a longer game but paced in such a way that a calming breath can rarely be taken.
Mono, a boy with a paper bag over his head, replaces Six as the controllable hero in Little Nightmares II. His cute, simple design causes him to stand out slightly less in the grim atmosphere of The Pale City. Mono is clothed in muted brown and beige, with his two eye holes being the most prominent feature of his design. Like Six, he is capable of running, jumping, pushing and pulling objects, climbing, and leaping off ledges and swings.
The player starts with virtually no information about Mono or the world, outside of any implied knowledge retained from Little Nightmares. Expect to continue on that path through the credit roll.
The first game solely took place on a large ship called The Maw. Six was boxed in by cold steel and the constant whining of the ship as it creaked and rocked on the water. Little Nightmares II begins in a swamp-like countryside. A bag of corpses is seen dangling from a tree in a screen nearby. There are hidden bear traps covered by dead leaves. The player wonders who or what is trying to keep people out–or possibly to keep them from leaving.
Players then reach a house and hear a simple, child-like melody as mysterious noises echo through the home. Trophies of dead things are everywhere and the basement is filled with balls of yarn and fabric. This, perhaps, is the home of who was responsible for laying out all the traps Mono navigated past. Mono sees a girl–who most will recognize as Six without her raincoat–trapped behind a door and frees her by chopping down the door with an axe.
Six now accompanies Mono on his journey forward. In Little Nightmares II, Mono and Six are only a couple inches tall in comparison to the height of an every day person. One of the great questions players may ask themselves is whether the world is obscenely large or Mono and Six are simply “little.” This is why normal objects like bookshelves and door handles are such issues. Six acts as an AI companion who works with Mono on puzzles. She will boost him up to reach high objects or even gesture towards hints and solutions.
Little Nightmares II does an impressive job at making the player feel accomplished and intelligent, despite presenting them with difficult odds. As a puzzle platformer, the player is likely to die a number of times parsing out the solution to what will eventually appear as an incredibly simple obstacle. Early on players will reach a gap where a bridge collapsed. After dying twice, a prompt appeared that the right stick can shift the camera around. Moving the camera down you see a raised bit of ground that Mono can land on safely.
While the game appears as a platformer where the player primarily moves from left to right, the playable space takes place in a three-dimensional world. If there is ample room, Mono can move deeper into the scene, such as down a hallway or behind some trees. Most of the time, players will have more room to move when a puzzle calls for it but often enough, curiosity will reward a collectible or secret.
After acquiring Six as a companion, Mono will come across another broken bridge. A running jump won’t get him past, neither will an out-of-sight platform. Instead, players have to grab a rope, pulling a piece of the bridge up so Six can jump across and then reach out her hand to grab Mono when he jumps. At one point, players will need to put two fuses into a wall to activate an elevator. Once Mono has acquired a fuse and begins to walk it towards the wall, Six runs over to the other fuse stuck in its socket and brings it over, preventing the player from making multiple trips. This kind of thoughtful touch made me appreciate Six as a companion and allowed the team at Tarsier Studios to craft more complexity into their puzzles.
Having an AI companion makes the world of Little Nightmares II slightly less grim. Mono can at any time grasp the hand of Six and lead her around. This gesture is not required by the player and holds no method for overcoming a puzzle. Merely, its sole purpose is to provide a way for players to further increase that invisible bond between two seemingly insignificant characters in a gargantuan world.
When Mono and Six become separated, Little Nightmares II often becomes more terrifying. I felt distraught after losing my companion because the isolation meant a desperate chase for reunification would ensue. Combat is a fairly natural extension of the original’s premise. There are times where Mono can grab an object like an axe or soup spoon and use it to fend off would-be attackers, whether it be hollow doll children or a disembodied hand that crawls and jumps like a spider.
Like some of Little Nightmare II‘s controls, combat can feel a bit wonky. Players need to hold down the grab button and press jump to swing an object the same size as Mono. There were times where I would miss a jump or a hit felt off and I would die. Thankfully, the checkpoint system is very generous and players normally only lose a few seconds of momentum. But Mono is meant to be a defensive being, especially in this world where antagonists come in all sizes. Attackers that can be defeated will often feint, making the player second guess when to strike.
To freshen up gameplay between chapters, small twists are introduced that liven up the proceedings rather than complicate matters. At the hospital, a flashlight not only illuminates dark corridors but stops creatures that are a Frankenstein of body parts from pursuing. A remote control is given later on that is used to turn on televisions and distract empty-faced citizens. These new mechanics along with standard movement blend with each other seamlessly. In fact, when going back through chapters, I found moving through screens to be easier. The less obvious puzzles became clearer and I failed less.
Frustration may arise in infrequent doses due to sections where death comes easy but I often found that sections meant to intentionally trip up players could be avoided by playing calmly. However, Tarsier Studios does have a few tricks up its sleeve and will catch players off guard, especially right when the pressure is at its highest or nonexistent–I’m looking at you bucket trap.
Little Nightmares II‘s simple mechanics and clever design should naturally attract those seeking a brisk challenge. But nothing surpasses the game’s world building.
Without a doubt this is a gloomy game. The dominant color palette consists of blues, greys, browns, and whites. It is a dreary game because this is a dreary, nightmarish world. But I applaud Tarsier Studios for never going too scary. Much of the Pale City is haunting and disturbing but never expressly horrifying. Little Nightmares II will inflict a kind of existential dread that would be home in Bloodborne or Silent Hill, except slightly less mature.
Throughout the game players will be left wondering what has become of this world. Human clothes rest in couches or fall from the sky with no body contained within. A teacher wanders the halls of an abandoned school and can stretch her neck out to impossible lengths. Why is a “doctor” that can walk on walls trying to put people back together again with new parts? Each new location and every new room will have the most curious players scouring for details, inch by inch.
This is a game built on incredible attention to detail, best experienced when the player’s focus can’t be torn away. The hollow feeling left inside of me after completing Little Nightmares II could only be soothed by going right back into its world. You begin to realize that objects and environmental clues are placed everywhere to foreshadow what’s to come or to place a question directly in the player’s mind that might not be answered.
The Pale City is an established world and players are not expected to understand what happened to it, only infer. Especially having played the first game, I was left with just as many questions that rattled my brain and made me question Six’s journey through The Maw.
Little Nightmares II is a testament to horror in games. Tarsier Studios envelops the player in a sense of dread through impeccable sound design that often hints at something terrifying several screens away. It is a perfect, digestible length that often allows somewhat frustrating controls and combat to be passed over relatively quickly. But nothing can compare to this world and the ominous, open-ended story that punches you in the gut several times. Often Little Nightmares II is an emotional typhoon that swirls players up with accomplishment only to have them come crashing down in fear of what lies beyond a darkened doorway. And it’s in that vast chasm of the unknown where Little Nightmares II creeps, along with the best horror games of its ilk.