The first time we see Norco, Louisiana, in all its pixelated glory, it's in an image that frames smokestacks and refinery equipment like a mechanical city. We're told there's a hum — an "endless sigh" — and we see a soft glow that cancels out the sun and the moon so its residents see only a translucent sky. That horizon, we read in a rush of an intro, is all projected flames, implying the land and the people below are living out their lives as a slow burn.
Welcome to a part of America known as "Cancer Alley." And then "Norco" gets weird.
The game is at once familiar and outlandish, a text-and-art-driven interactive adventure with a sci-fi bent. But this is not so much the future as it is an alternate reality. "Norco" paints the picture of a dying America, where the rich dream of privatized space flight and apps turn the talent-lite into niche celebrities. Sound familiar? Don't despair. "Norco's" world is enticing — one that is, yes, full of web-driven conspiracies and nut jobs, but is also the sort of crash we can't look away from.
