The time has finally come. It's a common trope. It's the trope to end all tropes (and then start them over again). That's right. It's time to talk about time loops.
But first, updates from the studio:
It’s been a busy month at my day job, so Follow Your Bliss has taken a bit of extra time to finish up. I’m extremely excited about how it’s looking, though, and I can’t wait to start playtests! The majority of playtests will be virtual, and will take place on the Foresight Studio Discord server. You can sign up here. In the meantime, here’s a little art, and a behind-the scenes look at the process:
Public Access got a very nice write-up in horror media outlet Bloody Disgusting, and most recently on EN World!
A cool Cross Stitch-related announcement is on the horizon, but I can’t share it quite yet. In the meantime, the second print run went in this week. Copies should be available next month.
Now, where were we…
This is going to get long, so here’s a breakdown with links to jump to each section:
First, I’ll tell you why I care about time loops so much
Second, I’ll discuss a few of my favorite examples of time loop media
Third, I’ll turn my attention specifically to games
Last, I’ll talk about why TTRPGs are such a good medium to explore time loops
Let’s go!
This? Again??
I love time loops. They’re an appealing concept—a chance to re-do the stuff you got wrong, take bigger risks, something something live life to its fullest. We’ve all seen Groundhog Day. The power of time loops goes way beyond that, though, and despite the metric ton of time-loop media out there, I think the potential of this trope is still underexplored. Here’s why.
In my day job, I'm a neuroscientist. As part of the job, I occasionally go to conferences. There’s hundreds, thousands, sometimes tens of thousands of scientists in attendance from across the globe, all trying to puzzle out one tiny aspect of how some broader concept in biology works. Whenever I go to a conference, I get the same disconcerting feeling, like I’m looking at 10,000 ants trying to chisel away at a mountain. Don’t ask me how ants hold chisels, that’s for the entomologists to figure out.
I always wonder: if you had the time (and mental space) to absorb every presentation, every poster, every bit of knowledge at that conference, what would you come out knowing? Would you be able to connect all this work into one beautiful, unified model of life? Would you have epiphanies about how cells become networks and networks become a person? Or would you be left wondering why people spend so much time re-treading work other groups have already done? (So, if the ants were immortal and also geniuses, could they break down that mountain? My bet is, eventually, maybe!)
To me, life in general is a lot like that. There's so much happening, but each of us only has so much time and brain space to take it all in. But bring in a time loop, and that changes. It opens the door to a different kind of pattern recognition that we just aren’t capable of on a day-to-day basis through linear time.
I find time loops so compelling because, given space to explore just one moment, maybe you could understand how diametrically opposed experiences of life can coexist, how vastly different worlds sit just alongside each other in the universe, and how they relate to each other. I think time loops are a way to explore what it is to be human.
So, how do time loop stories do that? I’m going to break down a random selection of the stories that are top-of-mind at the moment, either because they’re recent, they’re popular, or I have a particular fondness for them. There’s lots I won’t talk about, so let me know if you have a favorite example—I’d love to hear about it.
My favorite time loops
Before I dive in, be advised: this section & the next one include discussions of Outer Wilds, Deathloop, Higurashi: When They Cry, Edge of Tomorrow, Russian Doll, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Steins;Gate, Summertime Rendering, and a little bit about Heaven’s Vault. I’m not going into too too much detail on all these pieces of media, but if you want to experience any of them totally blind, be advised. (To get straight to the TTRPG stuff, click here.)
To kick things off, I want to start on the more lighthearted end of things. Edge of Tomorrow (based on the Japanese light novel All You Need Is Kill) is a blast. This story of a not-fighty Tom Cruise learning from Emily Blunt to become a fighty guy so he can stop time loop aliens is not just entertaining from an action movie perspective, but the puzzle at its core is well constructed. It exemplifies what I think is the most common treatment of the time loop, and it works really well because 1) it’s fun, and 2) it’s intriguing, making good use of its looping mechanic to keep audiences on edge throughout.
Beyond the puzzle, the time loop in Western media tends to be one of self-discovery. Russian Doll (at least, Season 1) takes a similar approach to Groundhog Day in some respects, using the time loop as an extended exploration of why the main character is so stuck in her ways. Sure, Nadia sort of has to puzzle out how to not die. But the bigger point is about growing with trauma, looking outside yourself, and extending a hand to someone who needs it. Russian Doll is a great example of the time loop as a character study. It may not explore the full breadth of human experience, but it goes all-in on the depth.
This brings me to anime. Time loops have a history in anime dating back to the 1960s, and one of my earliest exposures to the time loop was through Higurashi: When They Cry. As a piece of horror media, Higurashi stands out for subverting expectations of its peaceful small town setup, and for turning the “one male protagonist surrounded by cute girls” trope violently on its head. Dreamlike swerves in the narrative paired with a shocking descent into folklore-tinged paranoia highlight what a time loop can do on two fronts: 1) fully unraveling a whole cast of characters in great depth, and 2) building a mystery so twisty it could never be solved in linear time.
This is a trend in the time loop stories I’ve found most effective—that tantalizing combination of a seemingly impossible puzzle plus a cast explored in depth.
I recently watched Summertime Rendering, a beautifully drawn anime about a college student returning to his island hometown to mourn the death of a childhood friend. It’s intriguing and mysterious, comedic and horrific by turns, with a little romance, a little action, something for everyone. It weaves together narratives about selfhood, trauma, war, otherness, tradition, trust, and betrayal in ways I (mostly) didn’t see coming, and includes a particularly game-design-friendly spin on the time loop formula that keeps the pressure high (I’ll 100% be borrowing it). You should watch it.
Summertime Rendering is a great example of what I want from a time loop story. It’s a fun, clever, difficult puzzle to unravel, its characters have depth beyond what you’d expect from the outset, and it’s also an exploration of grief, the perpetuation of intergenerational trauma, and the scars of war. (One late-season scene in particular reminded me of the “splitting the atom” sequence in Twin Peaks: The Return.)
What few time loop stories do, though, is address the severe strain that looping has on the protagonist. One exception is Steins;Gate. I’m not going to address the other time travel stuff, but when an important character dies about halfway through the show, the protagonist vows to loop until he saves her. His repeated failure nearly destroys him, something absent from traditionally “heroic” time loop narratives. This is explored even further in the sequel, Steins;Gate 0, which was so sad I still haven’t managed to finish it. There’s a lot here about the time loop as metaphor for grief, and what it takes to move on.
My favorite use of a time loop as an expression of complex emotion is also the biggest spoiler. I mean, look at its entry on TV Tropes, on the “Groundhog Day” Loop page:
Puella Magi Madoka Magica is known more for its landmark deconstruction of the magical girl genre than its time loop, but this late-season reveal is one of the best uses of the trope in existence. The show is called “Magical Girl Madoka,” but it’s not really about Madoka at all. Instead, it’s about early-season antagonist Homura’s determination-verging-on-obsession to prevent Madoka from ever becoming a magical girl out of a desire to protect her, forcing a loop every time she does so. In the process, she inadvertently confers godlike abilities to Madoka solely through the strength of her devotion. Because the audience isn’t privy to the majority of these loops, there’s maybe less to learn in terms of game design... but it’s an essential touchstone, and a reminder that while a time loop can be a clever puzzle, a character study, or an action-packed romp, it can (and should) also deliver an emotional gut-punch.
Gameplay looping
Based on all the examples above, here’s my list of what makes a successful time loop narrative:
Just plain fun
A puzzle or mystery that can’t be solved in linear time
Deep exploration of one or more characters
Powerful emotion at its core
I don’t think there’s a game out there that checks all of these boxes. Since we’ve been talking about anime, I’ll start with one of the most straightforward examples in games: Tragedy Looper.
Tragedy Looper is an asymmetric board game in which a Mastermind tries to prevent the Protagonists from deducing what time loop scenario they’re trapped in, while the Protagonists try to figure it out before they run out of loops. It directly emulates the puzzle-solving aspects of time loop anime, playing off common tropes and cleanly checking off point 2 on the list up top. It’s fun, but I wouldn’t call it a narrative experience. And as we’ve established, I want time loops to tug at my heartstrings a little.
As a narrative medium, video games have a bit more of an opportunity here. I’m going to focus on two recent examples that take kind of opposite approaches: Deathloop and Outer Wilds.
Deathloop is a puzzle game masquerading as a first-person-shooter. The concept is straightforward: you're stuck in a day-long time loop, and the only way to end it is to kill all the Visionaries—influential people each of whom had a role in constructing this loop—before the next day begins. Or, before the same day begins again, more accurately.
It’s a lot of fun in the same way its predecessor, Dishonored, is fun. There’s a lot you can do with the powers you acquire across loops, and there’s a nice bit of environmental storytelling that gives you insight into why the Visionaries wanted to make this loop happen in the first place. There’s even an emotional twist at its core, and the loop can read as commentary on the isolationist nihilism of the wealthy or the stunted self-percept of Colt, its protagonist (though I’m not sure it quite reaches “character study” levels). As much as I enjoyed Deathloop, though, it ultimately felt like a missed opportunity.
There is one unilateral solution to the puzzle of Deathloop: violence. There’s not a single character you can talk to (ok, I guess there’s one, but that barely counts). Yes, Colt is a wanted man, but on a heavily-populated island, it felt like a game-y contrivance that not one of these NPCs would have a conversation. So, point 3 on that list goes out the window. We get a taste of it from Colt & Julianna’s relationship, but… I’m not sold.
In terms of the loop itself, Deathloop takes a phase-based approach, dividing it into four un-timed segments you can progress between as you choose. Depending on the time of day, the same space presents differently, which is an important point for TTRPG designers—even in a non-time-loop adventure, as a player it’s exciting to see a location change over time, to see NPCs have lives independent of whatever quest I’m on at the moment. (Deadly Premonition is kind of busted, but in the world of video games, it does this particularly well).
I think the interaction of time and the environment is handled even better in Outer Wilds, one of my favorite games in recent memory (time-loop or otherwise). In Outer Wilds, you play as an explorer zooming around your solar system, just checking things out… until the sun goes supernova, powering an ancient device that sets a 22-minute time loop in motion. Unlike Deathloop, this time loop is on an actual timer, which adds an element of pressure to an otherwise pretty chill game. Don’t be fooled, though—this adventure is gripping.
There is no hard progression in Outer Wilds. Your advancement comes solely through knowledge gained from trial and error (or the occasional helpful diagram or NPC). I can’t think of a single game that made me feel so extremely dumb but also brilliant, that inspired a sense of wonder from turning a corner or sliding down a hatch into an entire world I didn’t know existed. The environment is incredibly dynamic, changing wildly over the course of the loop, and each location is dense, mysterious, and fascinating.
It also has a molten emotional core. Through the environment and NPCs, you learn of the Nomai and their search for the Eye of the Universe, their desperation to escape a dying world, their single-minded obsession and ultimate failure (or is it?). In a way, it’s reminiscent of another wonderful game, Heaven’s Vault, which isn’t really a time loop game, but isn’t not a time loop game. Both deal with accumulating actual knowledge (rather than mechanical abilities) in order to decode a puzzling world—and with determining the fate of the known universe.
To me, Outer Wilds is nearly perfect, but it too falls short in its characters. They’re mostly non-entities, either there to demonstrate a neat way to interact with the world or to represent a society that no longer exists, and the unnamed protagonist is a blank slate, unaffected by their looping. The planets themselves are characters, in a way, and extremely good ones. But still, I would love to see the cast of a game like Hotel Dusk: Room 215 or 9 Hours 9 Persons 9 Doors (does this qualify as a time loop game? debatable) embedded in a world as deep and fascinating as Outer Wilds. But not in space, that wouldn’t make any sense. (Or would it? That would be as silly as putting them on a boat.)
To get back to the central point, there’s tons of great time loops out there to enjoy. But because of the limitations of the medium, I don’t think games have managed to reach the full potential of what a time loop can do.
I am a strange loop
The power of TTRPGs is that they don’t require extreme graphical or technical capacity to build a rich world, just imagination and participation. Responsive, human characters are totally feasible when you don’t have to pre-program their dialogue. By layering on a time loop, we can restrict the location and the cast, encouraging deeper exploration of a place and the people in it.
My digestion of the games & media above informed many of my design decisions when I made The Cross Stitch. My biggest gamble was using an actual timer, but I think it’s a big part of why the adventure works. On top of the obvious advantages (urgency, reasonably short sessions), when you’re on a timer, table talk becomes a valued part of play. It’s assumed PCs will discuss strategy once they figure out what’s happening, there’s nothing metagame-y about it. But, each minute they spend chatting is another minute gone, making it all part of the experience.
More generally, there’s a few things I think TTRPG designers can learn from time loops, whether or not they’re building one into their own game.
First, a small, but detailed cast & setting encourages deep exploration. One small town, even just one building can make for a great gaming experience, if you give it history, personality, life.
Second, NPCs should have their own lives, families, and agendas. Why would they be sitting around, waiting for PCs to show up?
Third, think of time the way you might think of space. One location can present in a ton of different ways if players reach it now or visit it later. I’d love to see that taken advantage of in dungeon design, specifically.
I’ve been working on a time loop system for a while, which I started designing before making The Cross Stitch. The working title is Again & Again & Again, but that’s a little generic, so it’s likely to change (I do like the idea that stuff made with it could “Run on the Again Engine”, though.) It includes a handful of elements of that ended up in The Cross Stitch, but there’s a bunch more to it. That’s where this character sheet came from:
It’s currently on the back burner while I work on Hillbrook Glen, but in the meantime I hope more designers explore what time loops can do for their TTRPGs. My experience with the handful of time-loop tabletop games that already exist is limited, but Eli Seitz’s Thursday takes a character-study-esque, Russian Doll approach that’s worth checking out. Revenant Society just wrapped up funding on Kickstarter, and I’m very curious to see what it’ll do with the trope. Time will tell!
This? Again??
In summary, I love time loops, in case you didn’t get it the first time.
I love them because the best stories explore the incomprehensible depth and richness that makes up the people and places around us. Every room, every person, contains more detail, history, experience, more of a story than it's possible to fully uncover. So, we carve grooves into our routines and spaces, limit the people we interact with and the ways we interact with them, consigning ourselves to ignore the million little stories that make up every moment. That kind of sucks, but also, digging into all those stories in actual life is inconvenient, mentally exhausting, and socially maybe a bit weird.
Thankfully, we have books and games and other media to help us do it. Through time loops, ideally.
Looking to the future,
Ben // Foresight Studio
PS This was an especially long one - thanks for reading! If you have thoughts about time loops or recommendations of other games or media to check out, I’d love to hear them. Find me on twitter or come chat on the Foresight Studio Discord server!