What the Game Is and Why People Talk About It
We Become What We Behold is a four-minute interactive short by developer Otto Granberg that was released as part of the IndieCade 2016 festival. It runs in a browser, costs nothing, and asks you to press a button every time a scene appears on screen. The button has two labels: "Normal" and "Threat." The scenes are simple pixel characters — a couple sharing a kiss, someone feeding pigeons, a kid playing with a dog. You click one of two buttons for each card. That's the whole mechanic. The point is not to win anything. The point is to watch the world the game shows you start to shift based on which button you keep choosing. Click "Threat" enough times and the scenes turn violent. Click "Normal" enough and things stay mundane. Click mixed, and the game becomes a tug-of-war between the two tones.
We Become What We Behold Game — How to Play It
Open the game in any modern browser. No install, no account, no download dialog. The interface is just a row of scene cards and the two buttons at the bottom. When a card appears, you decide which button to press, then wait for the next card. The pacing is automatic. Each card stays on screen for a few seconds regardless of your choice, so you can't pause to think too long. I learned the hard way that your first few clicks set the tone for the entire run. If you start by pressing "Threat" three or four times in a row, the game locks into the violent branch and there's almost no coming back unless you switch consistently to "Normal" for several cards. I ran into this on my third playthrough when I accidentally clicked "Threat" on the first card and then spent the rest of the game trying to undo it. The workaround is simple: commit to one button for at least six consecutive cards before switching. The game's internal balance only responds to sustained patterns, not single clicks. There are three visible endings. One shows the world spiraling into conflict. Another shows it settling into a quiet routine. A third is a hybrid that feels like a fragile peace. The game does not tell you which ending you're heading toward until the final card disappears. That deliberate withholding is why people replay it.
The Mechanism Behind the Gameplay
The game uses a simple hidden counter system. Each button press adds a small value to either a "normal" track or a "threat" track. When one track crosses a threshold, the game starts spawning darker scenes. When the other track leads, it spawns calmer ones. The exact threshold is never shown, but from testing across multiple sessions it appears to sit somewhere around five to six consecutive clicks in one direction before the visual tone commits. The art style matters more than you might expect. The pixel characters are deliberately generic so your brain fills in context. That's the trick. Because the characters are simple, your own assumptions about what they're doing get amplified by the button you choose. Pressing "Threat" on a picture of two people standing close together makes the next scene show them shoving each other. Pressing "Normal" on the same picture keeps them standing there. The game is literally showing you how framing changes perception. I found that the most interesting runs happen when you alternate buttons intentionally. It creates a chaotic middle section where the scenes jump between mundane and dramatic. It's exhausting to watch, which is exactly the point. The game makes you feel the cognitive load of constant reassessment.
Get the Full Details

Where to Get It
The official version lives on Otto Granberg's site and on itch.io. Search for "We Become What We Behold Otto Granberg" and the first result should be the canonical HTML5 build. It works on desktop and mobile browsers. I've run it on a phone with no issues. Avoid third-party mirror sites that bundle adware or require a download — the real game is free and web-based. There is also a PDF version sometimes shared in classrooms, but that's just a static printout of the cards without the interactive logic. The biggest mistake is treating it like a puzzle with a correct sequence. There isn't one. The game rewards noticing patterns, not memorizing buttons. Some players also try to speed through by spamming the same button rapidly. That doesn't work any faster because the cards advance on their own timer. You can't rush an ending. Another thing nobody mentions enough: the game tracks your choices across the entire run, not per card. That means one angry streak late in the game can still flip the ending if your overall balance tips far enough. I discovered this by accident when I spent the first half clicking "Normal" and the last three cards clicking "Threat." The final scene was still violent. The damage stacks.
Who Should Actually Play This
This is useful for media literacy discussions, psychology classes, or anyone who wants a quick example of confirmation bias in action. It's not a game for people who want challenges, high scores, or complex controls. It's a single-idea experience. If that's what you're looking for, it delivers in about four minutes. If you want something longer, pair it with Granberg's other early work or similar interactive essays like "The Problem from Hell" or Newgrounds experiments on framing. The downside is that the message is explicit. Some players find the moral too on-the-nose. The game explains itself almost immediately and never hides its thesis. If you prefer ambiguity, this might feel heavy-handed. In those cases, I'd recommend starting with a different interactive piece and coming back to this one later when you're ready for directness. Run it once with "Normal" only. Run it once with "Threat" only. Run it once alternating. The difference between those three sessions is the entire argument the game is making. You don't need more than that.