room : office

I LOVE how effortlessly the existence of the Pale Man disrupts what you think you know. So much of this game is about misinformation and the panicked scrambling to understand something, categorize it, box it away.

The definition of what visitors are and where they come from is already constantly changing whether you hear it from the TV, radio, and even some of your guests and this giant shows up to raise even more questions and answer absolutely none of them.

He PERFECTLY exemplifies the importance of what the Homeowner thinks. No, not the player. Just the Homeowner. One of the very few times where the character of the Homeowner is the intended and sole recipient of any information provided is when you claim to be alone, even if there are people in your house.

To the player, they were just testing what that option did. Everything they know about the mechanics of the game indicates that it would just lead to a different branch of dialogue and they're curious what that would be.

When you impose that response on the Homeowner, though, you establish something in his psyche. Even though he has people in his house, he is still alone. The Pale Man doesn't specify what the criteria for being alone is- the literal definition is pretty easy to figure out. But that only matters if that literal definition is what matters to you.

If the more abstract definition is what you answer with, thats still the truth. That's why his dialogue is the exact same as when you admit to being alone when you have no guests. It's also why claiming that you're not alone when you have no guests doesn't work.

The Homeowner, or rather, the Hermit, is defined by his tendency towards loneliness and isolation. He even has a poster! If you impose the literal definition onto his answers, he is using the world around him to keep himself grounded. He is trying to trust that anything still actually matters and, well, the physical beings of other people are pretty reliable for that.

If you impose the abstract definition onto his answers, there is no external body he can rely on. There is no source of information that can change what he knows. He's alone. So, so alone.

No matter how many times the Pale Man comes back and asks, that never changes.

"How? Man, I wish I asked myself that when I thought I had to be here in the first place! Get this, perfect picture in my head, this house, my buddy, my memories. Of course I have no reason to doubt the voice tellin' me to come visit and check up on him, it's in my head - but bam! I roll all the way out here and that jackass doesn't even let me in! Whatever voice told you to look for him's probably a piece of shit too. Wish you could throw them out the same way you can with people, huh? HAH. Yeah."

That's a lot to take in at once. His rant isn't entirely nonsensical though, it just takes you a bit to think on what he said. Then you think about it again. And again.

It's probably just a coincidence. You're fairly certain you are the only messenger sent by Her to this house and it's tenant. You know your goal and you know you have to be in the right place, too. Something about this place feels important. More than important, familiar.

You didn't think you already knew this place. Maybe you did, though? No, you haven't met the Hermit before. But how do you know to call him the Hermit? You don't think She told you that. It's hard to differentiate what you know because She's told you and what you know because you're… you. Whoever that is, or was, or may become.

As your thoughts once again become louder than the world around you, you miss the man muttering something else as he wheels off. You feel the distinct suggestion of caves, for some reason. You figure you'll find out later, if it's important.