Until Then: Afterimages
See the game in motion.
The DLC that broke the fandom because it refused to give them what they wanted.
Sofia and Mark's stories aren't apologies for the base game's ending—they're defenses of it, and that's why players either worship or resent Afterimages.
Until Then: Afterimages officially frames itself as a sequel exploring grief and change, but players are discovering something the marketing doesn't emphasize: these chapters are emotional reckonings with the original game's endings, where accepting loss becomes more profound than any fanfiction resolution could be.
Across all three sampled languages, positive players use religious or superlative language ('masterpiece,' 'absolute cinema,' 'obra maestra') immediately alongside acknowledgment of confusion or emotional devastation, suggesting they separate narrative clarity from emotional impact and value the latter.
Spanish and French speakers specifically emphasize the humanness and realness of how characters process grief, framing the DLC as psychologically authentic rather than plot-driven—a distinct emphasis from English reviews, which more often focus on directorial craft.
No recurring complaint about price appears in the sampled reviews; even negative players concede the €5 tag is fair, indicating the divide is taste-based, not value-based.
Synthesized from 65 public Steam reviews · 3 languages
- —Players who loved the original Until Then for its character depth and willingness to sit with emotional complexity rather than resolve it.
- —Readers of literary fiction who understand that 'realistic' endings often mean living with loss rather than overcoming it.
- —Anyone who plays narrative games for emotional impact and doesn't need plot mysteries solved or romantic fantasy validated.
- —Players seeking supernatural mystery payoff or clarity on the original game's metaphysical elements—the DLC pivots entirely to character-level grief.
- —Gamers who wanted Mark and Nicole's reunion and see their separation as a narrative mistake rather than intent.
- —Readers who expect short indie games to move briskly—Afterimages commits fully to lingering on small moments of sadness and change.
A narrative DLC for Until Then comprising two chapters: Sofia's homecoming to the place she left behind, and Mark's navigation of love and loss in a different timeline. Requires the base game. ~4–6 hours, heavy on story and character, light on minigames. 91% positive reception across 431 reviews.
Afterimages brings two new chapters following Sofia and Mark as they confront grief and change: Sofia returns home amidst lockdown to face the person she left behind, while Mark discovers love and an unexpected reunion in a different timeline. The DLC expands on the original ending and introduces new minigames and in-game phone apps.
Players describe Afterimages as emotional reckonings with the base game's endings—specifically, as validation that refusing to undo loss is a form of character growth. English reviewers emphasize the cinematic direction and character humanness. Spanish speakers repeatedly call it a "masterpiece" and stress how the writing makes grief feel real and livable, not just tragic. French players focus on the emotional cost of the storytelling and the satisfaction of seeing beloved characters developed further. Across languages, the common frame is: this DLC doesn't apologize for making you sad. It explains why sadness is necessary.
Until Then: Afterimages is remarkable not for what it adds to the game's lore, but for what it refuses to change. The base game ended with a choice that cost something irreversible. Sofia's chapter doesn't undo that cost; it shows a character learning to carry it. Mark's chapter introduces a timeline where things could have gone differently, then deliberately denies the fantasy ending players expected.
This is why reception fractures so sharply. Across the sampled reviews, positive players repeatedly describe the DLC in religious language—"masterpiece," "absolute cinema," "peak"—often immediately after acknowledging the story structure leaves them confused or emotionally wrecked. A few players note Sofia's arc resolves too quickly (one tarot reading and suddenly acceptance), yet they forgive it because the emotional weight of confronting a lost first love in an unchanged hometown carries the narrative forward. One reviewer observed: the direction feels more cinematic than the base game, and that directorial control compensates for narrative shorthand.
Negative players experience the same story and see a betrayal. They wanted Mark and Nicole together. They wanted supernatural mystery resolved. Instead, they got a story that uses grief as its core argument—and the DLC doubles down on that argument rather than offering an escape from it. One negative review notes the original game handles grief better, and therefore questions why Afterimages exists at all. Another calls it a "tutorial on how to fumble," interpreting the narrative choices as mistakes rather than intent.
What no recurring complaint establishes in the sampled reviews is a technical barrier, UI problem, or design flaw that would explain the divide. The fracture is thematic. Players who came for character depth and contemplative storytelling typically stay. Players who wanted plot resolution or romantic payoff typically leave. One positive reviewer explicitly frames this: if you loved Until Then for its character writing and contemplative tone, buy this. If you came for supernatural elements or overarching mystery, reconsider. The DLC is self-aware about its own audience.
Price signal is universally positive even among negative reviews. At roughly €5, no one argues they were financially wronged; a few negative players acknowledge the price-to-content ratio is fair even as they reject the content itself. This suggests the barrier is taste, not value.
The strangest detail: a few positive reviews express genuine fear before playing. One reviewer wrote "I bought it on day one and I'm genuinely scared to play it." This isn't horror—it's anticipatory dread of emotional devastation. Players knew what they were getting into and purchased it anyway, then experienced what they expected and called it beautiful. That's not confusion. That's intentional emotional consumption.
- 01The DLC deliberately refuses the fanfiction ending (Mark and Nicole reunited) and instead uses that denial as thematic argument—making players either revere or resent the creative choice itself.
- 02Sofia's chapter provides narrative closure for a character who quietly disappeared in the base game, and watching her process grief in the place where the loss originated lands harder than expected.
- 03The writing makes mundane human consequence feel cinematic: a tarot reading, a phone conversation, returning to a neighborhood that has moved on without you—these become the story rather than setups for plot twists.
- 04Across sampled reviews, players in multiple languages specifically praise the direction and music for carrying emotional weight that compensates for narrative shortcuts or ambiguity.
“Look, I bought the DLC on day one, and I'm genuinely scared to play it.”
“Thank you for the amazing experience.”
“For 4-5 hours of content, the DLC is absolutely worth the price and builds off a new interpretation of the events in the base game”
“Odios a los filipinos con todo mi corazon , me he quedado hasta las 3 de la mañana y todo para entender que solo soy un simple humano debiéndole mi estabilidad y mi crecimiento a sus creadores.”
Sentences extracted from highest-voted public Steam reviews. Unedited.
The most common barrier in negative reviews is not technical: it's thematic resistance. Players who reject the DLC's narrative choices (denial of romantic payoff, grief as the organizing principle, ambiguous timeline logic) often frame the DLC as a betrayal of the base game's promise. One negative reviewer stated the original game handles grief better and questioned the DLC's reason for existing. Another felt bored halfway through because favorite characters were absent. No recurring technical problems, crashes, or bugs appear in the sampled reviews, but several negative players note confusion about timeline placement and Mark's chapter ending logic—which they interpret as narrative failure rather than intentional ambiguity.
English reviews emphasize directorial and cinematic craft as the emotional carrier—noting that direction and visual storytelling compensate for narrative shortcuts or ambiguity. This technical-craft focus is less prominent in Spanish and French samples, which foreground the humanness and psychological realism of character emotion.
Spanish players specifically frame the DLC as a piece of lived human experience ('se siente hecho por una persona REAL') and use grief processing language more explicitly than other samples. One reviewer noted that the DLC gave them exactly what the original game didn't—a chance to sit with beloved characters' ongoing struggles rather than their story's resolution. The emphasis is on character continuity and emotional truth rather than narrative craft.
French reviews express the most explicit confusion about timeline logic and Mark's chapter ending, yet often frame this confusion as acceptable because the emotional impact overshadows clarity. One reviewer noted they 'didn't understand the ending but it was a great claque.' This mirrors the overall pattern but is articulated more openly in French—the acceptance of narrative ambiguity for emotional payoff is more explicit.
Community lenses — what each language group noticed distinctly.
Until Then: Afterimages divides sharply, but not along skill or polish lines—the split is philosophical. The 91% positive reception masks a fandom fracture: players who accept the DLC's argument that grief is livable and worth honoring tend to revere it. Players who interpret the narrative choices as refusals or mistakes tend to reject it wholesale. What unifies both groups is recognition that the story is intentional, not accidental. Even negative reviews don't claim the writing is lazy or the direction is sloppy; they claim the creative choice itself is wrong. This is the opposite of a game that failed to communicate its intent. It's a game that communicated so clearly that players felt obligated to take a stand. The absence of technical or UI complaints in the analyzed sample, combined with the thematic coherence positive players consistently describe, suggests the DLC is exactly what Polychroma meant to make. The question for potential players isn't whether Afterimages works—it works. The question is whether you can survive another story that refuses to let the people you love stay unchanged.
% positive reviews
Under-the-radar potential
Store framing vs player language
Voice and personality in reviews
Would a stranger click buy?
809 reviews currently indexed
65 analyzed · english, spanish, french
Last synthesized: Jun 21, 2026 · 65 reviews in that synthesis
Yes. Afterimages is a DLC expansion and requires Until Then to play.
Approximately 4–6 hours across two chapters. Sofia's chapter (Homecoming) is shorter; Mark's chapter (Sparks) is longer.
No. It pivots away from supernatural mystery and focuses entirely on character grief and emotional consequence. If you came for plot resolution, this DLC isn't for you.
No. The DLC deliberately explores a timeline where that reunion doesn't happen, and frames that separation as thematically necessary.
Even negative reviewers concede the price is fair for the content. The question is whether the story itself—not the value—appeals to you.
Possibly, but the story assumes you've experienced the base game's endings and emotional weight. Reading reviews won't prepare you for how specific and character-focused these chapters are.
Fewer minigames than the base game. One positive reviewer noted Sofia's chapter includes some minigames, but overall the DLC is heavier on narrative and lighter on gameplay mechanics.
Synthesized from public Steam reviews. Not affiliated with Valve Corporation.
