In Between

In Between is a 2D puzzle-platformer from Gentlymad that uses gravity manipulation as both its core mechanic and its central metaphor. You play through the inner world of a man confronting a terminal diagnosis, and the levels themselves are built from the psychological stages he moves through: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance. That framing is not a gimmick. The puzzle design and the narration are working together the whole time, and that coherence is what separates In Between from the crowd of atmospheric indie platformers that dress in sadness without earning it. The gravity mechanic is clean and well-paced. You can flip your orientation to any of the four cardinal directions, which lets Gentlymad build chambers that feel genuinely disorienting without ever becoming unfair. Early puzzles introduce the idea gently. Later ones layer in moving platforms, pressure switches, and environmental traps that require you to think several flips ahead. It is not the kind of game that will make your fingers bleed. The difficulty sits in a comfortable middle range, challenging enough to require real thought, forgiving enough that the emotional atmosphere is never broken by frustration. If you come for a brutal challenge, look elsewhere. If you want puzzles that feel proportionate to the story they are carrying, this is paced well. The narration is where In Between either wins you over or loses you. It is delivered in first person, literary and occasionally raw, voiced in a register that keeps the production feeling intimate rather than theatrical. Some players find it overwrought. I think it is honestly written, and the moments where it lands, particularly in the later chapters, have a weight that few games this small manage to carry. The visual design supports all of this quietly: sparse environments, a muted palette that shifts in tone as each chapter progresses, and a soundtrack that never announces itself but sits in the room with you. There is a restraint to the audio work that I respect enormously. Where the game stumbles is in its opening hour, which asks for patience before it has fully established its emotional footing. A few puzzle chambers in the middle chapters recycle ideas without adding enough variation to justify the repetition. And at roughly five to six hours total, some players may find the pacing uneven in the back half, where the story accelerates while the puzzle complexity briefly plateaus. These are real issues. They are also issues that a game built by a small team around a subject this difficult gets some grace on, in my view. This is a game for people who still think about What Remains of Edith Finch or Gris after they have finished them. It is for players who do not need a platinum trophy to feel like their time was spent well. It is not trying to be the cleverest puzzle game or the most mechanically inventive. It is trying to say something true about loss and consciousness, using the rules of its own physics as the language. For what it is attempting, it succeeds more than it fails, and the final chapter in particular justifies the whole journey. Kai, Scout Team