Junior Member
i just cannot believe it
man playing this genuinely got me sentimental
i cant remember the last time i felt joy from playing a gd level. like ive had fun but that just doesnt equate, like the pure sense of discovery from a toddler finding a new playground for the first time. and the playground isnt entirely metaphorical either, because this level is entirely constructed like a playground. the all-too- familiar gd bounce pads recontextualized to be not just a part of the gameplay but the entire level itself, stripping away any conventional barriers between a level's gameplay, visuals, and overall identity. and the resulting "gameplay" is essentially a sandbox . it's the idea that i tried and partially succeeded to capture in orbdancer - the joy of exploring this entire new world and playing around with toys that the level provides you in the form of monumental pad structures and
orbdancer is not even the only personal connection here; the level uses conclusion by waterflame, an upbeat soundtrack that i also chose for uniformity, my first real break into the creating scene. To date uniformity is still the most fun i've ever had building a level, having absolutely no expectations for myself while the self-imposed restriction forces me to channel my innermost creativity. this level cements conlusion as essentially the anthem of discovery and exploring the infinite possibilities of the gd editor
im reminded of a time in the hyperbolus server when someone (i think somie) posed a question on who the most influential creators of all time are, using quazery as a personal example. they were expectedly dogged on for suggesting this, but maybe they would be right in the perfect world. because this feels like what creating should have been. theres nothing technically difficult or groundbreaking about what quazery is doing here; all it takes is an enthusiasm for discovery and loving the process. So its genuinely profoundly sad to me that not many other people are really doing stuff like this
some of the most entrancing gameplay i've ever seen. this level is absurdly addicting to watch
(Copied from yt description)
I fell in love with this level almost instantly when I first saw it and continued to be obsessed with it days after. The worldbuilding and atmosphere are absolutely fantastic; the two climax parts, 50-67 and 88-100, had me experiencing emotions that I did not know were possible from a GD level. I remember traversing through these broken city structures with the giant humanoid figures and vivid flames in the background in my first blind practice run made me feel somehow powerful and powerless at the same time. Powerful when soaking in the environment surrounding you but powerless when reminded of your place within it. I especially want to highlight the spinning spiral structures at 60 and 65. Getting to these in practice for the first time was like... trying to navigate through some inescapable nightmare machinery, remnants of some long-gone vast city where everything is just so much bigger than you. I don't know. It's hard to recapture exactly how I felt in my initial experience, even if it was only a week ago.
I need to bring up the song too. Opinions on this song choice are somewhat polarizing but personally this might straight up be my favorite song from NG. The level and song elevate each other to such a degree that it almost feels like the song was made specifically for the level. It's odd because song's nautical theme (it's called "The Sailor" after all) might initially seem contrasting with the level's mechanical theme, but I think there's a connection between the idea of being swept away by relentless waves and being swept away in vast, broken (conquered?) cityscapes. As the song builds up to those blaring electric guitar drones it demands to be accompanied with the most overpowering scenery possible, and this level fully delivers. I even love the more subdued parts of the song. The glockenspiel that persists throughout it all adds this element of delicateness that just makes the whole package feel complete.
I've mostly talked about the climax parts up until now, but really the build-up parts are just as immaculate. There's a sense of anticipation throughout the entire first half where, even though so far you are only traveling through this really cool looking decaying world you can sense that it's all escalating towards something. It culminates into this final buildup part at 42% where you get utter chills as the structures rise up into the sky, a prelude of some absolutely insane shit about to go down. The humanoid figures reappearing and moving across the screen as even bigger versions than before captures a similar feeling too.
The gameplay is also a contentious aspect of this level, not for its enjoyability but rather for whether or not the gimmicky nature of it fits the atmosphere of the level. My initial thoughts were that, while the gameplay is very fun and satisfying to learn, it didn't necessarily suit the level except for certain standout parts like the aforementioned spinning spiral ship. However, the more I played it, the more I became convinced that this type of gameplay was a perfect match for the level. surveyor's gameplay style is incredibly unique. The way everything is arranged makes the task of learning the gameplay similar to that of solving a puzzle - it's the type of memory (kinda?) where you can rely on your knowledge of game mechanics to figure it out. This makes the gameplay feel familiar yet alien - it's not pulling any tricks on you with fake or invisible structures and the memory feels completely intuitive after learning. But the gameplay objects manipulated in such unconventional ways with the extensively scaled objects and the long row/columns of portals/orbs/pads. In a sense, the familiar yet alien feeling mirrors that of the environmental worldbuilding. It's what you might feel while traveling through the wasteland of a previously thriving world, one which is now ruled by incomprehensible alien humanoid figures.
So a bit about my personal experience beating it. I was consistently drawn towards doing practice runs over and over throughout the past week, and for the first few days I wasn't even fully set on beating it. With how much I was enjoying the learning process though I later committed to it, which I'm glad about because having this level completed is just so satisfying. Playing from 0 can be frustrating at times dying to completely random things each attempt (not the level's fault), but also reaching the climax parts from 0 is the only way to replicate the feeling of adrenaline I got playing this for the first time. Or maybe an even greater degree of it with how these parts are for sure the hardest in the level raw-skill wise.
visually, reset your mind is a beautiful depiction of chaos. but i think watching a video is maybe not even 1.9% of the way to experiencing it
initially, the level seems hostile towards the player. your mind has been corrupted beyond recognition, and the rapidly flashing lights and overlapping visual elements are huge hurdles to developing an initial understanding a level. but all of this just makes the overall playing experience so much more satisfying, because there's no better feeling than acclimating your mind to the chaos. what looks like randomly spammed portal and orb placements turn out to be meticulous bits of level design. there is a deliberately carved path throughout it all, a path that opens up through the chaos more and more until you can cut through the level with an eagle eye, focusing on the one remaining functional neural channel amidst the broken brain
i've always thought the best levels in the game are ones where the gameplay and the visuals don't feel separate but are instead packaged together into this one entity that grants the level its full identity, with the song being the wrapping paper of this package. reset your mind feels exactly like this. each orb/portal clusterin the level serves a dual purpose: they give the level a more chaotic visual appearance, but also add an additional layer to the puzzle that the player has to parse in order to find the correct way. I suppose this is something that can be applied to any memory level, but it feels especially potent for this level given how well memory gameplay befits its overall theming of psychic corruption. i mean holy shit it just feels kinda awesome when you approach this giant, messy conglomeration of orbs and you can laser focus the right ones
similar to what 1kb said in their review, i can't help but draw parallels between this level and neurostasis, because almost all of the things i've said in this review can apply to neurostasis as well. despite the similarities in theming the identities of each level feel very distinct, with reset your mind's chaos being very abrupt and neurostasis' chaos being a more gradual development. perhaps i have a soft spot for memory levels with heavy cerebral/psychological elements, but to me these levels just get to the core of what makes memory gameplay so special.
A pristine laboratory of checkerboard structures, swaying trees, and strange lights
You’ve always dreamed about creating the perfect GD level. Something that, after finishing it you can retire from creating entirely knowing you’ve made your undisputed magnum opus. Innovative and unique gameplay that also earns perfect 10/10 enjoyments across the board. Ingeniously crafted concepts paired with flawless execution, while simultaneously living and breathing its song. The culmination of your entire creating career, the thing that everything you’ve made up to this point has been guiding you towards.
Of course, such a level can never come to exist, but even thinking about it is enough to kindle some degree of creative passion. For now your progress as a creator consists of making small refinements upon your existing design style. To help you with inspiration, fellow creator friend KiwiPenguin offers a guided tour through his brain where you get to personally explore the various creative processes that he’d used to create his levels. You gladly accept.
Before you go, KiwiPenguin tells you that the tour is this new type of neurological experiment. He calls it “Neurostasis”.
A new type of neurological experiment
It’s Dreamer, but you are the dreamer. Here you see how KiwiPenguin conceptualized the iconic ship gameplay of his first ever rated level. You quickly realize how the innocent-looking spikeless structures only provide the illusion of safety—touching the wrong surfaces lead to a prolonged but certain death. The visual appearance of the structures is quite different from Dreamer’s, though. They have these snaking bits that are adorned with the colors of Decay. It’s like this simulation where the ideas he’s previously used are meshed into one.
It’s all very interesting, but you do wonder if it’s leading up to something.
A decaying dream
You still can’t tell whether it’s a simulation or a dream. Whatever it is, you can feel it growing more unstable by the second. It seems as if KiwiPenguin’s ideas are developing in real time as you traverse through them, and you wish those developments weren’t so hostile towards you. Suddenly the structures grow spikes and slopes on top of themselves, and the dreamulation starts throwing fake orbs at you as a distraction from the true path. The structures become increasingly animated, shifting in a manner reminiscent of Inane Demon except even more disorientating. Even the arrow guides designed to help you with navigation become useless.
With the fake orbs, slopes, and passable structures, the dreamulation ventures into territories that no previous KiwiPenguin level has ever come close to. You are plunged into a chaos of glitching structures, and you can’t even tell which ones are real. Was it KiwiPenguin who designed this madness, or has Neurostasis grown a mind of its own?
A sudden calm
The chaos comes to an abrupt stop. The structures are still broken beyond recognition, but you finally have a moment of calm to collect your thoughts. You’ve learned a lot from this whole experience, especially with how it recontextualized so many previously used level ideas into something new entirely. It’s always worthwhile to revisit your roots as a creator, no matter how much you might think you have “outgrown” the creative process or design style you used for those old levels. After all, anything you make is a step in the journey of your creating career—a step that will, consciously or unconsciously, influence everything you make afterwards. Whenever you need inspiration, you can always try looking inward. Neurostasis’ beautiful cacophony is but an example that demonstrates the endless potential of seeking inspiration inward and fusing the old with the new.
You slowly put the pieces back together, but you realize that not everything is quite the same.
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sorry about this gang