Threshold: A Spine-Chilling Horror Game Unveiling the Nightmarish Job Experience

The resilience of humanity never ceases to amaze us. No matter where life plants us, we find ways to adapt and flourish. This spirit is beautifully captured in the indie game Threshold, crafted by a developer with experience on titles like Deathloop and Dishonored. Picture yourself on the remote peak of a towering mountain, taking on one of the most demanding maintenance roles imaginable. As I stand watching trains rumble by, my duty is to ensure their punctuality. But the altitude is so high and the air so scarce that each shift is a real struggle. Near my post lies the grave of my predecessor, and my co-worker, clearly relieved, welcomes the shared responsibility.

Threshold intrigues with its unique difficulty system tied to different countries, as touted on its Steam page. Picking Canada as my starting point, the game welcomes me with the national flag, which feels almost foreboding. Once inside my humble worker’s quarters, I notice a shirt boasting, “I love Ottawa.” It’s a slight jab, as a proud Torontonian, and I can’t help but chuckle at this unexpected dig. It’s subtle psychological horror, mingling humor with an underlying intensity.

During the initial 30 minutes in the game, I find myself slipping into the role of this peculiar job. I’m given the choice of a two-letter name; I settle on Bo. My fellow worker, Mo, introduces me to the ropes. When the train slows, I blast a large horn to speed things up. The job involves trading a punched ticket for a vital air vial, which becomes a lifeline when breathing gets tough. The only drawback? Biting into the vial leaves me with air but also a mouthful of blood, adding a visceral challenge to the task.

Mo shares some tricks to ease the workload. By visiting the sluice gate and scraping off calcified bits, I earn extra tickets. Yet, the station’s layout is anything but convenient. Navigating between buildings and along convoluted paths feels like an unnecessary chore. A few strategic doors could simplify my routine, but it seems by design, as if to emphasize the game’s surreal atmosphere. Everything, from the fragile air vials to the station’s setup, feels meticulously planned to test patience and resourcefulness.

Despite these hurdles, I soon accumulate a decent stash of air vials, perhaps thanks to the country-based difficulty level. Breathing becomes simpler, and suddenly Threshold unveils its deeper layers. Hidden secrets dot the map, each discovery propelling the narrative forward. I stumble upon a corpse and feel compelled to mention it to Mo. Another secret door reveals itself, opened with a simple whistle, leading to a paradise of endless air and mysteries waiting to be unraveled. It’s tempting to linger there forever, but duty calls; trains must stay on schedule.

The stripped-down PSX-style graphics and absence of a musical score render the task of maintaining the train and collecting tickets almost zen-like. Over time, I synchronize with the rhythm of the routine—the clank of gears, the crisp sound of tickets printing. The main story wraps up in just over an hour, but with countless secrets and various endings, Threshold invites players back for more.

Threshold debuted on November 19, available on Windows PC. The review was crafted with a download code courtesy of Critical Reflex. It’s important to note that while Vox Media maintains affiliate partnerships, these do not sway our editorial content. Purchases made through affiliate links may earn Vox Media commissions. For transparency, you can find more about Polygon’s ethics policy [here](insert link).