The Alters occupies an unusual spot among the nominees at this year's The Game Awards. Listed alongside more traditional strategy and simulation titles, 11 Bit Studio's sci-fi management game didn't fit neatly into its best sim/strategy game category, and the bridge between expectations and execution has always defined it.
The game ultimately didn't win, but the nomination itself recognized a project whose most ambitious mechanics aren't about efficiency or systems, but about story depth and performance.
I spoke with Alex Jordan, who voices every version of Jan Dolski in Alters, about the challenge of performing a game built around identity and uncertainty: an experience that reflects the project's refusal to fit neatly into any genre.
A management game built on recognition, not adaptation
Alters revolves around the aforementioned Jan Dolsky, a worker forced to survive on a hostile planet by using a quantum computer to create his own alternate version of 'Alters'. Each alter represents a life people could have lived, shaped differently by a single decision. All eleven versions are voiced by Jordan, whose performance carries the emotional weight of the game's premise.
Looking back at the Game Awards, Jordan is pragmatic rather than frustrated. For him, visibility was more important than results.
while “[the nomination] was really good”, he says The Alters is hard to pin down exactly because “there's no clear genre-defining way for this game”. It exists, he says, “within the strategy, it exists in the resources and the base building, it exists within the story.” That breadth can make it difficult for players to know what they're signing up for. “I hope some people might see its name on that list and go, 'Okay, so it's got it. Made… I can actually let that go.'”
That uncertainty about genre, tone, even intent is deliberate. Many players come to Alters expecting a management game, only to discover something much more intimate beneath the surface. What begins as a logical challenge gradually becomes a psychological one, shaped by conversations between Jan and his alters that are restrained and often unsatisfying.
Featuring Eleven Lives which all relate to one man
For Jordan, the balance between mechanical challenge and emotional authenticity made the role unlike anything he'd done before. “There's an obvious challenge,” he says. “It's many, many roles. And they're all the same person, so how do you think it's a tree trunk with many branches?” Each alter had to feel different without ever breaking the illusion that they all came from the same source.
But that technical difficulty, he says, was only part of the equation. “It has another challenge,” Jordan continues, “which is very subjective.” Beyond the mechanics, the game asks players to engage with deeply personal themes. “We're dealing with this abusive family that he grew up in, this sense of regret, this sense of 'what if'.”
Jordan recalls attending a hands-on program in Warsaw where it became impossible to ignore the emotional weight. “There was a content creator who played the game […] And he was crying,” he says. I feel like I'm literally playing a part of my life.'
Such moments represent the responsibility behind the performance. Jordan adds, “Not only do we face the technical challenge, but we also have the challenge of dealing with this subject matter in a way that allows people to reflect their own experiences and handle them accurately, but also delicately.”
That sensibility is reflected in Jan himself, who stands in stark contrast to the power fantasy that dominates many sports. Jan is haunted, insecure, and deeply unsure of her worth. Even after realizing that the quantum computer actively chose him, he struggles to understand why.
Her strength, Jordan explains, comes from an unusual place. “A man's strength is his ability to withstand his lack of strength over time.” While doubt is common among heroes, “for that to be the fundamental core of who they are. That was a completely unique experience.”
Morality without answers and a performance that lasts a long time
That risk extends outward to the Alters themselves, who often question Jan's decisions and authority. The game forces players to confront the ethics of creation: Is it fair to bring sentient beings into existence just to increase the odds of their own existence?
For Jordan, those questions felt uncomfortably relevant. “Do you know what's really interesting?” He says. “This is what it feels like to bring a baby into the world now.”
He draws parallels between the play's premise and the concerns of modern life. “There are people talking about possible wars. There are people talking about climate change, a million different things that make you go, 'Why would you bring a person into the world now except for your personal love and satisfaction?'”
Alters refuse to offer neat moral answers. Alters challenge Jane's choices, but they also depend on her. Their desires often conflict, forcing them to make compromises that do not entirely benefit anyone. “There's no black and white,” says Jordan. “There is no right answer. There are varying degrees of individual benefit.”
Some of the game's most powerful moments occur not during its greatest crises, but in its quieter conversations. Despite the sci-fi spectacle and planetary collapse, the exchanges between Jan and her alters feel more intimate than dramatic.
Jordan attributes that intimacy in part to his own approach in the recording booth. “Most of the time, when I want to react authentically, I clear my head of almost everything,” he says. “I'll have a moment of quiet, and then I'll go on the scene.” That quietness, combined with the isolation in the booth, helped ground the performance. “It's just going to be accompanied by a really genuine desire to talk to another person.”
At the same time, he's quick to praise the rest of the development team for shaping those moments. “I think there's a big part of that to give credit to the design team,” he says, pointing to the way conversations focus visually. “It's as if the world around fades into black, and you're now focused on here and on this conversation.”
Behind the scenes, the performance was further complicated by the game's non-linear structure. A scene that plays late in the story for one player may appear near the beginning for another. Emotional continuity had to remain flexible.
“You can take an alter in a conversation where they're experiencing this great rush,” Jordan says, “and at the end of that conversation, it can feed into another dialogue tree where suddenly he's really sad. I can't fully commit to a moment of total happiness.” That constant recalibration, he says, “puts a constant thread between every single line in the game.”
It's the kind of work that rarely translates neatly into award recognition, precisely because it resists spectacle. Still, Jordan believes the Game Awards nomination is important as a recognition of experimentation.
“I really think there are things that happen in this game that make people go, 'I've never done that—oh, this sounds new,'” he says. “I don't think there's another game where one person plays multiple versions of the same person.”
Five years from now, Jordan doesn't expect The Alters to win the award. Instead, he hopes it is remembered for what has changed. “What I hope is that we see games down the line where you go, 'Oh, this has the flavor of The Alters,'” he says. “That's always, I think, the best thing.”
He suspects the game will continue to slowly find an audience through word of mouth rather than winning awards. “I think it's a game that's a constant slow burn,” Jordan says. “I don't think it's going to go away. I think it's just going to keep churning.”
In that sense, The Alters didn't lose at The Game Awards. It simply revealed how much more games can still go, and how quietly some meaningful innovations have already arrived.
Alters
- issued
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June 13, 2025
- ESRB
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Mature 17+ / Blood and gore, strong language, drug and alcohol use, violence
- developer(s)
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11 Bit Studio
- Publisher(s)
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11 Bit Studio
