I like the indie game scene for taking chances and producing games that are different.
PEPPERED: An Existential Platformer from Mostly Games and Black Soup is different alright, to the point where it’s different from being different. It’s the kind of game that doesn’t just colour outside the lines; it redraws the colouring book while you’re still holding the crayon.

“An existential platformer where Doomsday is just around the corner. Save the world or become an eternal corporate slave for the God of Death. Choices matter. Or do they? Goof around and find out.”

PEPPERED is one of those rare indie games that doesn’t just surprise you, it actively conspires against your instincts. It looks basic, typical, everyday. A pixel‑art platformer with a bunny‑like intern sliding around an office in a chair. You think you know what you’re getting. Then it starts behaving strangely. Then it starts judging you. Then it quietly asks you to question everything you think you know about how games work. Across multiple playthroughs, it becomes clear that PEPPERED isn’t interested in guiding you. It wants you to wander, rebel, fail, and discover. It wants you to ignore the signs, disobey the prompts, and poke at the seams of its world until something gives way. And when it does, the game reveals itself as something far stranger, funnier, and more existential than its pixel‑art exterior suggests.

The game begins in the most mundane way possible: You’re an intern in an office chair, being interviewed by a cyclopean secretary for a job that requires “30 years of coffee‑brewing experience.” Posters on the wall tell you to keep working. Something feels very off, and the God of Death is about to be freed and kill everyone everywhere, but your first task is pouring coffee. It’s corporate absurdity dialled up to eleven.

If you follow instructions, PEPPERED is quite dull, linear, and you’ll get one of the game’s eleven endings in about five minutes. You’ll die quickly, restart, and find yourself stuck in the same loop But the moment you ignore the game, break the rules and the loop, wander off, poke around, avoid a meeting with your boss, that’s when PEPPERED cracks open. The world is ending, and suddenly you’re faced with a choice that sets the tone for everything that follows: Save the world or get a job. This early fork isn’t just a branching path, it’s a thesis statement. This game is built on the idea that obedience leads to stagnation, while curiosity leads to chaos, humour, and meaning.

PEPPERED has the tagline: “You have one shot,” and this isn’t just marketing fluff. It’s the game’s spine. Well… that’s not entirely true. You only have one shot at the big decisions. You can die in the game, and you will… a lot, and you spawn back at the last checkpoint. But your choices matter and mistakes stick Lose a boss fight? That’s it. No respawn. No second attempt. The story pivots. Say or do the wrong thing to an NPC? They remember. You have to deal with the consequences.

The game has eleven endings, ranging from bleak wage slavery to prison sentences to bizarre cosmic outcomes. Some runs last minutes, others hours. And because PEPPERED refuses to let you retry major moments, each playthrough becomes a personal narrative shaped by instinct, curiosity, and missteps. It’s existential design through gameplay: You act. The world responds. You live with it.

This game is hilarious. Not “quirky indie humour”, but hilarious, genuinely absurd, sharp, and weird. One of your co‑workers is a flaming fish in an office chair. A dog‑like police officer chases you, firing taser‑orb projectiles. You write apology letters using Tetris‑like blocks. You defend your innocence on a game show. The game plays like a lost series of Monty Python’s Flying Circus. The humour isn’t just flavour, it’s a counterweight to the game’s existential dread. PEPPERED constantly asks questions about purpose, authority, corruption, and the systems we blindly obey, but it does so with a wink, a grin, and a willingness to make you laugh at the absurdity of it all.

In terms of the mechanics, PEPPERED’s platforming is simple, easy, pick up and play. Movement takes a bit of getting used to, and some players may find the controls a little stubborn. But once they click, the game becomes fluid, brisk, and constantly inventive. Once you are used to it, variety is thrown at you every few minutes. One moment you’re sliding across office floors in a chair. The next you’re dodging taser shots. Then you’re racing on shopping trolleys. Then you’re hiding from the sun using shade before you burn to death. It’s a platformer, yes, but it’s also a visual novel, a puzzle game, a comedy sketch, and an existential crisis simulator. The constant changeups keep the experience fresh, unpredictable, and deeply replayable.

PEPPERED’s branching narrative is richer than it first appears. Dialogue trees are silly, sharp, and often morally grey. NPCs reveal secrets, lies, and uncomfortable truths about the world and the hero who once imprisoned the God of Death. Choices echo across the game. Paths open and close. Moral lines blur. And the game repeatedly returns to its opening dilemma, save the world or get a job, but in new contexts, with new stakes, and new information. What was once a simple choice becomes a reflection of your values, your instincts, and your willingness to push against the world’s expectations.

If there’s a criticism, it’s that conversational cues can be unclear. Sometimes being friendly backfires. Sometimes being assertive closes a route. The consequences can feel harsh, especially early on. But that harshness is part of PEPPERED’s identity: a world where you don’t always know the right thing to say, and where choices have weight. Besides, it pushes you to try multiple playthroughs, make different decisions, and see how far the rabbit hole goes.

PEPPERED is not a straightforward experience. It’s funny, often laugh‑out‑loud funny, but it’s also dark, strange, and uncomfortably reflective of modern life. It pokes at corporate culture, economic anxiety, political absurdity, and the idea that “doing the right thing” doesn’t always lead to happy endings. And yet, the game feels hopeful. Not in a saccharine way, but in the sense that your choices do matter. Even in a world built on absurdity, meaning can be carved out through action. PEPPERED dares to suggest that hope isn’t found in perfect outcomes, it’s found in trying, failing, and trying again.

PEPPERED: An Existential Platformer is a rare thing: a platformer that uses its mechanics, humour, and narrative structure to explore existential ideas without ever feeling pretentious. It’s surprising, inventive, and deeply replayable. It rewards curiosity, punishes complacency, and constantly reinvents itself in ways that feel both chaotic and intentional. It’s not for players who want precision platforming or clean, predictable storylines. But for anyone willing to experiment, fail, and embrace the absurd, PEPPERED is one of the most interesting indie games in years, a strange, hilarious, existential adventure that sticks with you long after the credits roll.

Out now for PC, PlayStation, Xbox, and Switch, coming in at around £13.
PEPPERED: An Existential Platformer is a prime example of why I adore indie gaming.
It’s bold, it’s different, and it’s immensely playable. A must buy recommendation.