The "tasty" moon hangs overhead, and my Skate Story hero is starving. The Skater is a demon, wandering the lonesome plains of the underworld with gnawing hunger pains, when a strange thought occurs to him: why not just take a bite out of the bright shiny thing to sate himself? It's not like there's anything else to do down here, anyway. After making a four-part pact to obtain a skateboard with which to achieve his ambitions, the Skater finds himself turned to glass.
Each bump against a hard object from that point on, no matter how small, deals damage to his fragile form. Iridescent shards scatter the ground wherever he falls, a much prettier stand-in for blood that remains until you ollie, kickflip, or shuvit your way through the area successfully. But not only does the Skate Story demo show off smooth gameplay mechanics and stylish, immersive level design, the game's philosophical framework proves it a truly unique experience that demands to be held up to the light for every facet to sparkle.
Moonage daydream The elevator pitch for Skate Story doesn't do it justice. It's more than a skating game set in the underworld, or a mission to eat the moon – which is the subject of most demons' greatest fears, I'm told in the game's opening sequences. After playing the first chapter of Skate Story through its hour-long demo, I find that it's actually a game about life, death, and the soul-soothing balm of skateboarding.
As a non-skater myself, I didn't expect to be particularly grea.