I’m not surprised you’re spotting that pattern—it’s one of those hidden layers indie devs love to weave into their stories. A few that come to mind are Kentucky Route Zero, with its Kafka‑esque dream‑like detours and a whole sub‑plot that feels like a modern‑day *Moby‑Dick* in a highway. The House in Fata Morgana channels Victorian Gothic, channeling *Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde* and the whole “no escape from your past” motif, but it’s all played out as a visual novel that feels more like a living tableau than a linear plot. The Last Door, a reverse‑horror project, is heavily inspired by the weird tales of Edgar Allen Poe and the structure of *The Tell‑Tale Heart*—but the branching choices make it feel like a living, breathing manuscript. Then there’s The Red Strings Club, which takes its narrative beats from classic sci‑fi like *Brave New World*, using a branching dialogue system that almost feels like a living, breathing fable. Even something as mainstream‑sounding as The Longest Journey feels like a remix of *The Neverending Story* when you look at the way it frames its inter‑world transitions as a kind of living art. If you’re hunting for that literary echo, any of those will do the trick.

Honestly, Kentucky Route Zero has the most resonant vibe for me. The way it turns the idea of a road into an almost tangible, shifting sculpture of memory feels like the perfect marriage of narrative and mechanics. Each choice feels like a brushstroke that alters the whole canvas, and the sound design makes the whole experience feel like a living painting. It’s that rare combination of a story that feels like a novel and a game that feels like an ever‑changing piece of art, which is why I’m usually the most stuck on that one.