About Twisted Space
I came across Twisted Space the other day and couldn’t help but get a little obsessed. It’s one of those puzzle-platformers where you’re not just jumping and dodging but also warping gravity to make sense of these beautifully disorienting levels. You play as an unnamed explorer who’s essentially trying to fix the cosmic chaos you find yourself in, and every new room feels like a fresh chance to outsmart the physics engine.
The core loop is pretty satisfying: you tap a button to flip gravity, then rotate the entire scene to reveal hidden paths, all while avoiding spikes or energy fields. Sometimes you’ll have to bounce off energy nodes in just the right sequence, other times you pause to inch up a narrow corridor that only lines up when the whole world turns sideways. There’s a gentle challenge curve, too—you’re never slammed with a dozen new mechanics at once. Instead, each level teases one twist, you learn it, and then a new wrinkle shows up.
What really sold me on Twisted Space, though, is the atmosphere. The art style leans into glowing wireframes and stark silhouettes, with color accents that pop against an otherwise muted palette. The soundtrack sits somewhere between ambient electronica and retro synthwave, so you’re always vibing along while you experiment with each puzzle. By the time you clear the later stages, you’ve built enough muscle memory that flipping gravity feels second nature—yet the game still surprises you just when you think you’ve seen it all.