This is one of the most unique, visually pleasing, and heartwarming games I've played in a long time. Though it doesn't delve to deeply into lore or philosophy, it manages to tell a compelling story that asks surprisingly profound questions about the nature of identity, hope, and friendship---all while centering on a feline protagonist who can't communicate except by meowing and clawing things. It's made me reflect on my own friendships, including with my cats, who don't seem to understand what exactly made me so emotional when the game's credits rolled but were right there to comfort me anyway.

I would recommend this game to just about anyone, not just people with a softspot for cats or an interest in sci-fi dystopias. It's a brilliant work of art that provides a meaningful experience, and it's well worth the cost despite its short length. Even after just finishing it I'm eager to dive back in and find more sheet music for Morusque to play on his jerry can guitar and to curl up among the cushions in Clementine's loft for a little longer. It's these small moments that really make it special, the moments of rest and meditation that are an essential complement to the game's story elements and action sequences.

As I finished the game I was reminded of a quote from John Gray's book Feline Philosophy: "Humans cannot become cats. Yet if they set aside any notion of being superior beings, they may come to understand how cats can thrive without anxiously inquiring how to live." This game, which puts the player in control of a small feline amidst the ruins of a man-made world still rife with humanity's troubles even in the absence of human beings, offers an opportunity to seek the understanding Gray suggests.

There is a lot we can learn from cats that is easy for us to lose sight of, has hectic and stressful as human life can be. The quiet hours spent in relaxation, play, and curiosity are just as important as the time we spend working towards a paycheck or some other goal. Can you imagine a cat "on the grind?" Of course not. Because cats understand innately that you don't need wealth or achievement to get what matters out of life. Sometimes all you need is an inquisitive mind, a friend to play with, or just a soft pillow to curl up on for a nice, long nap.

Fills the cat-less void in my soul

In Stray, you control an adorable ginger cat who strays from its herd and stumbles into an underground city. Originally built by humans to survive a post-apocalyptic future, the city now feels abandoned—populated only by quirky robots and mutant bacteria. Your mission is to navigate this eerie world and find your way back to the surface with the help of an insomniac robot companion.


Stray is a cinematic third-person adventure that blends exploration, stealth, action, and horror.

The standout feature is its feline protagonist, whose natural limitations shape every aspect of the gameplay. As a cat, you can’t reach wall-mounted controls, carry most items, or engage in combat. Instead, interactions rely on your versatile robot companion, who picks up objects, opens doors and containers, and translates signs and speech. Although switching between the cat and the robot is seamless, moments when the robot is unavailable emphasize just how helpless the cat can be without its companion.


Powered by Unreal Engine 4, Stray looks nice and runs well—even on a Steam Deck. The game presents a clear contrast: on one hand, cute, exaggerated character designs, and on the other, a bleak, dystopian environment with aspects of cosmic horror. Separately, the crisp lighting and vibrant colors set the mood and guide you effectively through the world.


Stray weaves together several narratives: a dystopian tale of humanity’s self-destruction, an existential journey of robot slaves in a post-human world, and the personal quest of a robot regaining lost memories. The cat serves primarily as the player vehicle, while the story focuses on the robot companion and the city.

In my experience, the narrative is easy to follow and well-paced, with the most compelling moments emerging from subtle insights into the everyday lives of the robots and the environmental storytelling. However, I felt that the broader human downfall and the robot’s personal journey sometimes came across as underdeveloped and emotionally distant.


At a premium price of $30, Stray is a relatively short experience that can be completed over the course of an evening. While the cat’s size and vertical movement options create an illusion of a vast world, most areas are small and offer next to no optional content. Although some action sequences allow you to spare enemies, these choices have no impact on the overall story or game world. Ultimately, despite its unique charm, the game offers little reason to replay it beyond revisiting its distinctive world.