Into the Dead: Our Darkest Days Channels State of Decay and Splinter Cell

ign.com:

Zombie survival sims typically thrive on scale. We follow a ragtag group of civilian survivors who've been forced into terrible odds against a gelatinous horde of rotting flesh that smashes against the barricades and swims through the streets until, eventually, humanity's last lights are snuffed out for good. Some great games have been forged in this mold, but Into The Dead: Our Darkest Days, developed by New Zealand indie studio PikPok, subverts those tropes entirely. This is an experience about the sheer, spleen-squeezing anxiety of being alone in a room with one—yes, often exactly one—member of the living dead. And as it turns out, that's plenty terrifying, too.

At its core, Into The Dead: Our Darkest Days has a lot in common with other grim, post-collapse management games like State of Decay. The player is put at the helm of a meager band of unfortunate souls who have suddenly found themselves surrounded by the shambling husks of the recently deceased. The only objective is to stay alive. So you'll retrieve food and water from abandoned outposts while gradually improving the conditions of whatever hideout you've decided to call home. All the while, zombies at the gates chip away at the makeshift barricades outside, ensuring that your crew can never remain in the same place for long. What makes Into The Dead unique, though, is that all of the gameplay is presented on a tight 2D plane, bringing a greater sense of intimacy to the action. Players will never find themselves mowing down a tidal wave of zombies until their bodies are stacked up like mountains on the horizon. Instead, combat usually begins by peeking into a cellar door and subduing a walker with an old pair of scissors before they ever knew what hit them.

In that sense, Into The Dead is clearly designed to evoke some serious stealth-gaming royalty. The 2012 Xbox Live Arcade hit Mark of the Ninja comes to mind. Same with the pulpy heist-puzzle gem Gunpoint. But frankly, more than any other touchstone,