
HEAVY AS STONE
You’re sick. So is the city. Explore a crumbling Terminal that loops when you die. Solve cursed investigations. Weaponize your symptoms. Find the truth, or spiral with it.
Does this feel indie?
Vote based on whether this game feels indie to you. You can change your vote at any time. Results earn an IGF score after 10 accepted votes.| ContextThe evidence factors used to assess whether this game belongs on IndieGame.Fan. | Status | Notes Latest Contributor: IGF TeamEdit notes |
|---|---|---|
Updated: Jul 13, 2026Developer scaleThe operating scale of the game's developer. | ||
Updated: Jul 13, 2026Publisher scaleThe operating scale of the game's publisher. | The separate publisher has a broad catalog or developer network in the local database. | |
Updated: Jul 13, 2026Release statusWhether and how the game has been released. |
Media
10 itemsAbout the Game
HEAVY AS STONE is a surreal horror investigation set in the underground sprawl of Terminal, a city sick with memory, cults, and something older still.
You are sick.
It began with a cough, a tremor, a sense that something wasn’t right. Now it leaks into your work, into every conversation, every crime scene. They call it the Yellow Wound. You're not the only one infected.
Terminal is falling apart.
Beneath its streets lies a decaying underworld of bootleggers, cultists, and others suffering the same sickness. You're here to investigate them, or maybe just survive alongside them.
Embrace your demise.
Symptoms evolve as you explore. Blurred vision, false sounds, shifting rooms. But afflictions can also be studied, weaponized. Learn to adapt, or be consumed.
You will die.
Often. And when you do, you come back. Nothing resets. Your body stays broken. Your memories pile up. Each return deepens the clairvoyance sickness; a side effect of remembering too many versions of yourself.
This is an investigation.
Cases link together through dream logic and decaying facts. Progress isn’t linear, it's layered. You’ll find yourself chasing answers in places you swore you’d already been.
There is no cure.
Only patterns. Symptoms. Obsessions.
Somewhere under all this, something is calling you by name.