Perfect Tides: Station to Station: a gentle game about big steps

Kim Muntinga

27-1-2026

Translation: Megan Cornish

Pictures: Kim Muntinga

Between starting university, relationship doubts and self-discovery, the second instalment of Perfect Tides tells the story of the transition to adulthood. This chilled point-and-click adventure relies on authentic dialogue, understated scenes and a quiet yet effective narrative pace.

Standing in this new city, you immediately feel how vast everything is: bigger than you, bigger than the life you’ve known. The sounds of the streets, the unfamiliar faces, the thought of your first lecture tomorrow – everything surges towards you, while you’re still clinging to a relationship that’s long since become too much. Every message from him pulls you in, dragging you back to a version of yourself you want to leave behind.

These are the thoughts of Mara, the character I play. I sense her uncertainty in every step. She wants a fresh start, to study literature and finally discover who she could be. But the transition feels more like a leap without a safety net. Between halls corridors, train platforms and university entrances, she struggles through days filled with both hope and overwhelm.

I witness her struggle to hold together all the loose threads of her life: the toxic relationship, the expectations of university, her own dreams that barely seem to take shape. Every conversation, place and encounter reveals how difficult it is for her to assert herself in this new chapter of her life. And that’s what draws me into Perfect Tides: Station to Station: the honest, disorienting mix of doubt and new beginnings that makes the start of adulthood so painful and so precious.

The script behind the uncertainty

Perfect Tides: Station to Station is the new point-and-click adventure from small studio Three Bees. It was once again developed by Meredith Gran, who – as always – imbues every scene, every conversation and every uncertainty with her unmistakable feel for coming-of-age moments.

I sense in every line, in every seemingly casual observation, that the writer isn’t romanticising this transitional phase – they’re remembering it. Gran isn’t interested in grand conflicts or dramatic turning points. She focuses on the unfinished. Those fleeting moments when you think you’ve understood something about yourself, only to discard it again the next moment.

The game picks up three years after Mara’s high school days in 2000. The island from the first game is a thing of the past – a place of both confinement and security. Now the world has grown, and Mara feels lost in it.

Bigger world, smaller steps

So, I’m not only accompanying Mara through an inner upheaval, but also through a sequel that deliberately picks up where the first instalment left her – as a teenager with dreams far too big for an island far too small. Now she’s 18, new in town and new to university. Station to Station portrays this year as an intricate mosaic of uncertainty, overwhelm and some rare moments when everything suddenly makes sense.

And as I journey through these seasons with her, I realise that the real story isn’t about events – it’s about decisions. Decisions that are difficult because they come directly from her emotional turmoil. Decisions that I support because I’m playing them. Decisions where I sense how much this game is designed not just to let me watch, but to empathise.

Conversations that never seem to end

What drives these decisions are conversations. Lots of them. Conversations aren’t a means to an end, a vehicle for quest progress or triggers for action. They’re the game.

I talk to fellow students, roommates, old acquaintances and people I meet in passing. Some conversations fizzle out, while others leave a mark. Almost all of them feel raw, unvarnished and sometimes uncomfortably honest. Sentences break off, and thoughts remain unspoken. We talk over each other, misunderstand each other, hope and hurt each other. And then? Silence.

What makes these conversations so powerful is their unpredictability. There are no clear-cut, good answers and no obvious paths to right or wrong. Every reaction carries uncertainty. Often, the feeling remains that something wrong was said or something important left unsaid. It’s a quiet sting that lingers.

That’s where the great quality of this game lies. It forces you to live with ambivalence. With incompleteness. With the fact that not every relationship can be preserved, not every conflict resolved, not every emotion understood. Some conversations are left open. Some seem banal, only to later gain surprising weight. Others carry a heaviness from the outset that’s almost impossible to shake off.

Decisions that require knowledge

Station to Station doesn’t use classic RPG stats, but it does have a subtle, almost imperceptible experience system. Everything Mara reads, hears or experiences is stored as a theme. Each of these themes grows the more she engages with it. Conversations, small encounters, books, places – everything can increase her knowledge in specific areas like sex, music or anarchism.

For example, going to the cinema boosts her score in films. These experience points unlock additional dialogue options, shift moods or change how confident Mara is in certain conversations. A new topic can open one door or close another.

Everyday life as a game mechanic

In terms of gameplay, Station to Station’s still a classic point-and-click adventure – scaled back, unhurried and deliberately unspectacular. I guide Mara through city districts, entering cafes, apartments, lecture halls and train stations. I talk, wait, leave and return. Often without a clear destination.

This simplicity reflects Mara’s inner life with astonishing precision: paths, repetitions, downtime. Not every day brings insight. Not every scene feels important. But everything slowly comes together to form a complete picture. At the same time, however, this can also be tedious – almost paralysing.

Progress here rarely feels like a triumph. It’s more like a cautious continuation, without knowing exactly where you’re going.

Graphics and sound: quiet, but accurate

The pixel style of Perfect Tides: Station to Station is simple yet deliberate. Each scene’s neatly composed in small rooms, narrow streets, cramped flats. Colours are often muted – almost sombre – and capture Mara’s mood remarkably vividly. Light provides rare touches that feel like brief respites – a warm window, a glowing evening sky, a neon flicker in the hallway. The graphics don’t aim to impress; they’re designed to create intimacy. And that’s exactly what they do.

The sound design reinforces this restraint. The music remains sparse – more of a whisper than a score – with quiet synth pads, gentle accents and hardly any melodies.

I received a copy of Perfect Tides: Station to Station for PC from Three Bees. The game has been available for PC and Mac since 22 January.

Kim Muntinga

Editor

Kim.Muntinga@galaxus.de

My interests are varied, I just like to enjoy life. Always on the lookout for news about darts, gaming, films and series.

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