Stray’s Neon City: Pop Culture Secrets, Robot Hearts, and a Cat’s Quiet Journey

I finally sat down with Stray on PS5, and the thing that surprised me most was how it’s full of these quiet little sci-fi nods and playful touches that make the whole place feel alive. Exploring this game feels like stepping into a maze where every alley hides a little wink at the worlds we already love. All of it blends perfectly with the game’s bigger influences. The neon rain, the lonely robots, the empty “sky”. Each one carrying a little bit of Blade Runner at its core. You can even find “do androids dream of electric sheep?” If you look close enough at your surroundings. Once you start noticing them, they’re pretty much everywhere.

The most obvious is the Back to the Future pair tucked neatly into the beginning of the main story, where Seamus has lost his father, Doc. He’s basically wearing the robot version of Marty McFly’s vest. Never mind that he also has Marty’s great-great-grandfather's name, or Marty’s middle name. Whichever way you prefer to slice that pie.

By the time you find Doc he needs “1.21 gigowatts” to power his Defluxor for you to reunite the pair. It’s the kind of thing you catch immediately as a fan and smile about every time you see them again. By the time you make it to Midtown and the nightclub lights start pulsing you’ll see two helmeted DJs behind their booth. I couldn’t help but think of Daft Punk showing up to play a set in the middle of the apocalypse.

Aside from that, the whole city reveals itself like a scrapbook of sci-fi history. Doc’s hideout has a crowbar hanging from a valve like it’s waiting for Gordon Freeman from Half-Life, and later on another crowbar rests on a subway seat. Dig through Doc’s library hard enough and you can spot a journal that looks like it belongs in Gravity Falls. The first apartment you wander into has string lights with alphabet letters arranged exactly like the way Will’s mom reached out to him in Stranger Things, and the glowing “Duffer Bar” sign nearby just feels like an obvious wink. Up on the rooftops a TV flickers with the “KNOW YOUR FOE” message from Starship Troopers, and the wallpaper in B-12’s flat echoes the Overlook Hotel carpet from The Shining. One of my favorite touches is how the robots drink a coolant type liquid and treat it like alcohol, a detail that feels straight out of Futurama.

The references go even deeper the longer you explore. Robots drop lines tied to Skyrim, the “arrow to the knee” joke is twisted into a “screwdriver in the knee,” and that robot is named Sojiro just to nod at Persona 5. There’s a programmer named Elliot for Mr. Robot fans. The prison guards are named Pablo, Capone, and Lupin like the developers couldn’t resist stacking in famous criminals and thieves. a robot named Vladee talks about the Ship of Theseus like it’s been sitting in his memory banks for centuries. Your companion, B-12, is a tiny tribute to BlueTwelve Studio. The bowl of water with RAM sticks labeled “RAMen” is the kind of joke the game doesn’t bother drawing attention to, you either spot it or you don’t.

As much as I loved all those nods, what stayed with me most was how the cat interacts with everyone. Down in the slums, the busker will strum gentle songs if you bring him sheet music. Once he starts you can curl up beside him and fall asleep while he plays, your controller purring contently while he strums and the camera pans out to a cozy scene. Apartment after apartment invites you to do the most cat-like things. scratch up carpets, knock stuff over, claw furniture that definitely didn’t deserve it, sleep on places that of course only a cat would love. Some robots light up with pure affection when you rub against their legs, little hearts popping onto their screen-faces as if they’ve been waiting just to feel a soft touch again. Others are so lost in their routines you can sprint between their legs and trip them. Sending their whole body into a stuttering spin, like a true cat. It’s those tiny moments that make the city feel real. Like you’re not just passing through, you’re part of it.

By the end, the story lands somewhere that surprised me. There’s a sweetness to it, but also a weight that lingers for a while after the credits roll. It’s not the kind of ending that jumps out and shocks you. It’s quieter than that, more emotional, the sort of sadness that sneaks up on you because you’ve grown attached without realizing it. When everything finally settles, the world feels changed, and so do you.

Finally getting to play Stray made me appreciate how much heart the developers poured into every corner. It’s a city you don’t just explore, you feel it. And even when the story leaves you with that ache at the end, it’s the kind of ache that reminds you why this game is going to stick with people for a long time.