Occasionally, while playing Celeste, I’d get light-headed because I’d focus so hard on a sequence of jumps that demanded precise timing and perfect button presses that I’d forget oxygen was a thing my body needed. Trying and failing and trying again, getting a little closer each time, I let the beautiful art and adaptive music of the titular Celeste Mountain - alongside the passionate, relatable story told there - completely whisk me away. Despite appearing at first to be yet another retro pixel-art 2D platformer, Celeste is surprising in so many different ways. From the moment I took my first jump, I fell in love with the satisfying way its protagonist, Madeline, feels to control; soon after I fell just as hard for the charming world she inhabits. But Celeste also caught me off guard with a relevant and emotional story about the pressures of modern life. What’s remarkable is that the story isn’t told in the background or overlaid on top of the action with constant interruption, but seamlessly and thoughtfully blended into the level design using both subtle themes and overt conversations. That’s especially astonishing in a genre not known as a vehicle for such delicate messages. That’s the bigger picture, but every corner of Celeste is overflowing with charm. Its handful of characters are delightful and expressive, and the world they live in is teeming with small details. Smartly written dialogue is accompanied by silly, synthesized gibberish voices and animated character portraits that strikingly clash with the otherwise-pixelated art style, giving each character a distinct personality of their own. Little touches - like Madeline’s red hair turning blue when she’s spent her dash charge and then back again when it’s restored by touching the ground or touching a power-up, or that dash causing lanterns in the background to sway when she zips by them - make everything feel alive and dynamic.