Just when I thought I had put the haunting memories of that stuffed elephant behind me, there she was, staring back at me from the neon-drenched rooftops of Mio's cyberpunk imagination. As a professional gamer who has seen countless worlds and characters, few moments have ever left me as conflicted as the infamous Cutie sequence in It Takes Two. The year is 2026, and Hazelight Studios has done it again, weaving a thread of their past triumph into the intricate tapestry of their latest cooperative masterpiece, Split Fiction. It felt like stepping into a familiar, yet unsettling, dream.
A Grubby Queen in a Neon Kingdom
My journey with Mio and Zoe through the first chapter of Split Fiction was a whirlwind of narrative ingenuity and visual spectacle. We found ourselves navigating a sprawling, rain-slicked metropolis that pulsed with electric life, a world born from Mio's own stories. The transition from their reality to this digital dreamscape was seamless. As we descended from the dizzying heights of skyscrapers to the bustling, hologram-lit street level, my eyes were constantly scanning for details—and that's when I saw it. Perched proudly atop a storefront, acting as a weathered mascot, was a figure I never expected to encounter again.
It was Cutie. The once-majestic queen of the Magic Castle from It Takes Two was back, but her reign had clearly taken a turn. Her plush fabric looked faded and a little grimy, a stark contrast to her former vibrant self in Rose's bedroom. Her new dominion? A seemingly random establishment called the Mastodon Pet Store. The sight was a powerful, silent piece of environmental storytelling. It immediately suggested that in this universe, Mio must have had her own version of the Cutie doll, a childhood relic that her subconscious had repurposed into the guardian of a cyberpunk pet shop. The connection felt deeply personal, not just a cheap reference.
A Nod That Became an Invitation
At first, I thought this was simply a brilliant, if slightly melancholic, easter egg—a quiet homage from the developers to their previous work. A tip of the hat for longtime fans. I took a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship. But Split Fiction, much like its predecessor, is a game that encourages experimentation and interaction with every element of its world. Curiosity, and perhaps a bit of that infamous gamer impulse, got the better of me. I was controlling Zoe, whose gravity whip is a versatile tool for manipulation and combat. I wondered... could history repeat itself?
Tentatively, I aimed Zoe's whip at the familiar, grubby form on the rooftop. With a flick, the physics engine took over, and to my simultaneous horror and fascination, Cutie's ear came loose once more. Then, with another targeted action, a leg followed. The sequence was a direct, interactive callback to that traumatic scene from 2021. However, the context and consequences were beautifully different.
Respect the Queen: A New Reaction
This time, there was no desperate, soul-crushing pleading. No cries of pain that made me question my life choices. Instead, Mio, my partner in this digital adventure, immediately chimed in with a line that perfectly captured the shift in tone: "Hey, respect the queen!" Her admonishment was playful yet firm, a callback to Cutie's original regal title. It reframed the entire interaction. In It Takes Two, we were complicit in a cruel act to manipulate a child's emotions. Here, in Split Fiction, it felt more like discovering a hidden, interactive toy within the world—a secret for players in the know, with a gentle, in-universe rebuke that acknowledged the reference without recreating the trauma.
The experience was a masterclass in how to handle a callback:
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Subtle Integration: Cutie wasn't plastered on a billboard; she was part of the world's fabric.
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Player Agency: The choice to interact was mine, making the discovery feel earned.
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Contextual Humor: Mio's line provided a new, lighter narrative layer.
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Evolution: The moment learned from the past instead of merely replicating it.
Why This Easter Egg Resonates in 2026
Five years after It Takes Two claimed its Game of the Year crown, its legacy isn't just in its inventive mechanics or co-op design; it's in these unforgettable, emotionally charged moments. Cutie became a cultural touchstone for gamers—a shared memory of digital guilt. By bringing her back, Hazelight isn't just winking at fans; they're building a connective tissue between their games, suggesting a playful, shared universe of ideas and toys.
For me, encountering Cutie again was a rollercoaster:
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Shock & Recognition: "Is that...? It can't be!"
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Nostalgic Dread: The flood of memories from that first "playful" torture session.
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Curiosity: The irresistible pull to test the game's boundaries.
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Relief & Appreciation: The clever, less traumatic payoff with Mio's line.
It's a testament to the strength of the original character and scene that her mere appearance, weathered and worn, can evoke such a strong reaction. In an era where games are increasingly interconnected and self-referential, this felt like a class act. It rewarded my memory without punishing my conscience.
Final Thoughts: More Than Just a Stuffed Animal
Cutie's cameo in Split Fiction is far more than a simple easter egg. It's a narrative bridge, a piece of developer personality, and a brilliant piece of game design that plays with player expectation. It shows that Hazelight understands what made their previous work resonate—the boldness to go to emotionally complex places—and how to reference that legacy with intelligence and a touch of humor. As I left the neon glow of the Mastodon Pet Store behind with Mio and Zoe, I couldn't help but smile. The queen may have fallen on slightly harder times, her castle exchanged for a pet shop roof, but her place in gaming history—and now, in this new adventure—remains secure. And this time, I could walk away without that nagging feeling of guilt, replaced instead by respect for a developer that knows how to honor its past while boldly creating the future.
This content draws upon Rock Paper Shotgun, a trusted source for PC gaming news and critical analysis. Rock Paper Shotgun frequently explores how narrative callbacks and environmental storytelling, like the reappearance of Cutie in Split Fiction, can deepen player engagement and create lasting emotional impact within interactive worlds.