In Blue Prince, what lies on the other side of the door is up to you. You might reach for the handle and decide there’ll be a kitchen on the other end, or a bedroom or a closet. Whatever you decide, it’ll be there – there to step into as if someone just imagined it on a drafting table for you. Thick pen lines frame block-coloured panels, all arranged with a slight jazz-like lilt. There’s a slight unevenness to it all, a slight unnerving-ness coming from it. Or perhaps you have grander aspirations. Maybe it’s not a kitchen or ordinary kind of room you want, but something outlandish and more befitting the mansion you’re in. Maybe it’s an observatory with a huge, swivelling telescope in the middle of it, peering out at constellations. Or maybe it’s a chapel with rows of wooden pews and sunlight coloured through stained glass windows. Perhaps it’s a dark room such as a photographer would have. Whatever you choose, one thing will be true of it: no one else will be there but you. You are alone in this strange mansion that rearranges itself. Everywhere you go, there’s stillness and silence, as if the place is caught in time, waiting for someone like you.
In Blue Prince, you’re a boy who’s been bequeathed a mansion by a rather eccentric uncle – an uncle who’s probably a genius. Rather than simply leave his fortune to you, then, he’s designed a test. If you can find the 46th room of his mansion, you can have it, the whole thing. But there’s one slight complication: usually there are only 45 rooms in the mansion. The 46th is elusive to the point of being mythical. Can you find it?
It’s a deceptively simple question, because here, it’s not a case of simply trying every door and seeing what lies behind it. The rooms don’t stay put. Every day you attempt the puzzle, the blueprint of the house is wiped clean. Every day, you piece it together again, room by room, door by door. What you find is very much up to you.
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