Review: Dustborn is a story about what you can and cannot change

One of the first tutorial messages that appear on the screen in Born of dust is a warning that what you say in conversations will affect your relationship with other characters, but that there is “no wrong answer.” Introduced as a story-driven experience shaped by your choices, Born of dust takes the Telltale-esque formula in that everyone remembers your deeds, but takes the concept a step further, as your actions also affect how you and other characters develop over time. Developed by Red Thread Games and published by Spotlight, the publishing arm of Quantic Dream, the result is an ambitious story that often gets tangled up in its aspirations, but does so without ever abandoning its heartfelt nature.

The road trip story begins with a group of four 30-somethings in a minivan fleeing after a robbery. The mission is to cross an alternate reality of the United States to eventually deliver their stolen package in Nova Scotia, Canada. Their biggest obstacle is to evade surveillance by Justice, a fascist regime that is particularly interested in tracking Anomals. These are people who can speak certain words to summon special powers after a mysterious event that occurred decades ago. As you might have guessed, all four people in the van are Anomals, including the protagonist Pax.

To get to Nova Scotia undetected, the group poses as a punk rock band, although their musical skills are rather poor. Using fake IDs and fake work permits, the road trip is dominated by gigs that you play following a Guitar Hero-style mini-game. When you’re not on stage, you’ll stop at various locations to meet with members of a resistance group, stop at campsites to rehearse and meet with the characters, or compose new songs.

During the 20 hours it took me to see the credits, Born of dustThe story took a dozen different turns. At first I expected it to develop similarly to Life is strangein which people with supernatural abilities are shown in largely down-to-earth representations of our reality. Born of dust follows this pattern to a certain extent, but ultimately mostly favors fiction.

This alternate America is defined by the assassination of JFK, which hits Jackie Kennedy instead, and the various events that followed afterward, including the creation of anomalies. The game is set in 2030, with an already established presence of robots and a pervasive commentary about how much it sucks to depend on them (a robot goes crazy and steals your vehicle, server problems nearly lead to the death of a mechanic stuck under a bus, and so on).

With each new location you visit, the world and its internal turmoil expand further. Justice is not the only enemy; there are also the Puritans, a group of tech-obsessed fanatics from whom you stole the package, as well as another being that appears in the second half of the story. The game’s story also delves into the origin of the Anomals – with long expositions on language usage that almost sound like listening to Skullface in Metal Gear Solid 5: The Phantom Pain – plus flashbacks to Pax’s childhood, her past relationships with some of the crew, fight scenes, and much more in the spoiler section. The story always tries to cast a wider net, and in doing so, some plot threads are underdeveloped at best and forced at worst.

One aspect of the game that works is the emphasis on different points of view. No matter who you talk to, Born of dustyou can freely choose the camera’s perspective. Each conversation starts with a standard angle, but you can move the camera through the scene, following an invisible path until it stops somewhere else, creating a different point of view.

Sometimes the camera will start at a point where it shows two characters having a private conversation on a bench while the rest of the group sits around a campfire in the background. Rotating the camera switches the scene to the two of them looking out into the moonlight shining on the sea. At a tense point in the story, the camera angle could represent a chance to rebuild trust in a group fractured by betrayal, with everyone in the frame. Or you could change the angle to highlight said fracture, by showing the perpetrator isolated on one side of the screen while the others listen to him state his case.

Essentially, it’s the characters’ lines and their special vocal powers (called Vox) that drew me in. From the beginning, it was refreshing to see such a diverse cast that largely ignores media stereotypes and includes characters who are allowed to be angry, messy, and joyful in their own ways.

Although I cannot speak with any certainty about the backgrounds of the individual characters that appear in Born of dustI was particularly surprised by Theo. Since he is a Mexican character, I was fully prepared to constantly hear Spanish jokes à la Jackie Wells in Cyberpunk2077 or the characters in Far Cry 6. Spanglish is of course not unusual, but as a fellow citizen Latin Americanit was gratifying to see Theo follow the rule of thumb: when you’re surrounded by English-speaking people, you have to stick to English to be understood. Only in moments of surprise did Theo let out a Spanish sentence, until a later sequence finds him on the phone with a relative. From Pax’s perspective, if you choose to listen in, the subtitles show the conversation in Spanish, while Pax’s thought bubbles “translate” the most important parts of it. I’m glad I didn’t have to watch yet another “[ominous mumbling in Spanish]” Subtitles.

The care the development team puts into each character is palpable, and it became essential to talk to them at every opportunity after seeing how their personality archetypes could be shaped through various actions and conversations. Theo, for example, can stick to his role as group leader, or slowly open up and become more part of the team, with the impartiality that comes with it. This feature isn’t without flaws, however – while your actions carry weight, some of the default storylines feel intrusive, and not always in the best way.

In one case, a character left the group after a rant, even though we had talked the night before about how much her relationship with Pax had improved. Most of the time, I was forced to use Pax’s vox with the crew, such as to bully her or temporarily prevent her from speaking, even though the characters clearly agreed that this was intrusive. These moments didn’t completely sap my sense of player agency—stories need structure, after all—but they did take the weight off some of my previous actions.

There are possibilities Born of dust challenges its own conventions, such as when other characters use their Vox with Pax without you being able to stop it. What stood out to me the most was the existence of timed dialogue options. The longer you listen to certain conversations, the more options appear over time. The older ones expire in the meantime. It got me thinking about the importance of knowing when to interrupt someone and when it’s time to just shut up and listen to the other person without saying a word so they can blow off steam after a stressful event.

There’s a group conversation about halfway through the story that tells you how many times you actually listened to someone and the impact your seemingly small actions had. Finally, small actions throughout the game can change the course of scenes. It was funny to see the characters’ dinner end up a little burnt because I helped the robot in charge of it pick out a hat while they figured out their identities. I managed to heal Pax’s bond with a family member, only for them to ultimately lean into their idealistic archetype and go their own way instead. I chose to support that decision even though I knew it would ultimately cause them to split up with Pax, and it felt good to have that option available.

The biggest climax of your choices comes at the very end, when you have no prompt to choose your ending. Instead, a message appears on the screen that your choices and actions all along have determined the ending of the story. You get to watch Pax’s decision unfold without your input, and who decides to stick with her for what happens next.

As much as Born of dust leans on its science fiction setting, its story is told from a perspective that has clear parallels to reality. There are allusions to jokes like “my husband and I saw you from across the bar” as well as mentions of speeches about the “Woke Mind Virus” and how obviously stupid they are. One of Pax’s Vox even allows her to “cancel” someone – which is a bit of a bummer when you consider the contrast between Born of dustqueer and BIPOC characters against Quantic Dream’s alleged misogynistic and homophobic Reactions to a lawsuit alleging the studio was a toxic workplace.

In total Born of dust is as messy and imperfect as the characters you meet. The storylines can be intrusive and there are several plot threads that remain unresolved. But it makes sense to not have a say in everything and to have only a limited influence on the people around you. Born of dust is a reminder that seemingly innocuous gestures don’t always have a tangible impact, but they always shape who we are and how we interact with others. In a game shaped by choices, the most satisfying decisions weren’t about a right answer, but about getting a different perspective.

Born of dust was released on August 20 for PlayStation 4, PlayStation 5, Windows, Xbox One, and Xbox Series X. The game was tested on PlayStation 5 using a pre-release download code provided by Spotlight by Quantic Dream. Vox Media has affiliate partnerships. These have no influence on editorial content, but Vox Media may earn commissions on products purchased through affiliate links. More information on Polygon’s ethics policy can be found here.