If you spent any time on the weird, wonderful side of the internet in the mid-2010s, you definitely saw that small, blue-clad witch. Wadanohara. She’s the titular protagonist of Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea, a game that looks like a sugary-sweet RPG Maker project on the surface but hides something significantly more jagged underneath.
It's been years since Deep-Sea Prisoner (also known as Mogeko) released it. Yet, the community hasn't moved on. Why? Because it’s a masterclass in tonal whiplash. You start by helping a young witch return to her undersea home with her familiars—Memoca the energetic seagull, Dolphi the shy shark, and Fukami the stoic octopus—and you end up in a psychological nightmare involving betrayal, body horror, and some of the most controversial narrative choices in indie gaming history.
Honestly, it's a bit of a trip.
The Aesthetic Trap of the Sea Witch
Most people get into Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea because of the art. It’s adorable. The sprites are tiny, the colors are vibrant blues and soft whites, and the character designs are genuinely top-tier. Deep-Sea Prisoner has a very specific style that feels both modern and nostalgic.
But that’s the trap.
The game starts with a slow burn. You’re basically doing chores. You're visiting the Sea Kingdom, talking to the Princess, and repairing magical barriers. It feels like a standard "save the kingdom" plot. But the developer is famous for a "cute but dark" subgenre. If you've played Mogeko Castle, you know the drill. If you haven't, well, the shift in Wadanohara is even more jarring because you actually grow to love the characters before the game starts tearing them apart.
The gameplay itself is secondary. It’s a standard RPG Maker 2000/2003 affair. You walk, you talk, you engage in turn-based battles that aren't particularly difficult. You don't play this for the combat. You play it for the atmosphere. The music is hauntingly beautiful, specifically the tracks composed by the developer. It creates this sense of "melancholy peace" that makes the eventual descent into the Red Sea arc feel like a personal insult to your senses.
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What Most People Get Wrong About Samekichi
Samekichi is the "rival" character who hangs around the edges of the map, being edgy and telling Wadanohara to go away. Most first-time players assume he’s the villain. He’s the shark. He’s mean. He’s the "bad boy."
Except he isn't.
One of the strongest parts of the narrative is how it handles the "traitor" trope. Without spoiling the exact mechanics for the uninitiated, the game plays with your perceptions of loyalty. Samekichi is actually the emotional core of the story. His relationship with Wadanohara is complex, rooted in a past that the game slowly reveals through flashbacks. It’s not just a childhood crush; it’s a desperate attempt to protect someone from a fate they don’t understand yet.
The real threat is far more insidious. It’s internal. The Sea Kingdom is being corrupted from within, and the introduction of the "Red Sea" turns the blue, watery paradise into a literal lake of blood and eyeballs. It's gruesome. It’s heavy. And it’s where the game loses a lot of people who weren't prepared for the content warnings.
Dealing With the Controversy
We have to talk about the "True End" and the "Bad Ends."
Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea is not for everyone. As the story progresses, it touches on themes of assault, extreme violence, and psychological torture. There was a huge discourse on Tumblr and Twitter back in 2014 and 2015 about whether the game went too far. Some critics argued the shock value outweighed the narrative merit.
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But here’s the thing: the game is intentional. It’s a tragedy. It follows the "Magical Girl" deconstruction trope that was huge at the time (think Madoka Magica). Wadanohara is a character who values kindness above all else, and the game tests that kindness in the most brutal ways possible. The different endings—two "Bad," two "Normal," and one "True"—offer different resolutions to her sacrifice.
The True Ending is bittersweet. It doesn’t give you a perfect "happily ever after." It gives you a conclusion that feels earned, even if it leaves a lump in your throat. It's that specific brand of "sad but beautiful" that kept the game relevant for a decade.
The 2020 Reboot: What Changed?
In 2020, a reboot (the "Reboot" or "Plus" version) was released. It added new scenes, updated some art, and expanded on the lore. Most importantly, it added a "Blue Sky" ending and additional context for characters who felt a bit flat in the original.
If you’re looking to play it today, the Reboot is the way to go. It smooths out some of the clunkier RPG elements and gives a bit more breathing room to the supporting cast. Chino, the "Great Sorcerer" character, gets a bit more screen time, and the world-building regarding the "World of the Great Witch" becomes clearer. It connects Wadanohara to the larger "Deep-Sea Prisoner Multiverse," which includes other games like The Gray Garden.
Why It Still Matters in 2026
The indie RPG scene has changed. We've seen the rise of Undertale, Omori, and Deltarune. These games all play with the player’s expectations. But Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea was one of the early pioneers of the "don't trust the art style" movement in the West.
It’s a cult classic because it’s uncompromising. It doesn't care if you're comfortable. It wants to tell a story about a girl who loves the sea and the boy who would do anything to keep her safe, even if it means becoming the villain in her eyes. It's messy, it's problematic in parts, and it's deeply emotional.
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If you’re going to jump in, keep a few things in mind.
First, check the content warnings. Seriously. Don't go in blind if you're sensitive to gore or psychological trauma. Second, talk to everyone. The NPCs in the Sea Kingdom change their dialogue constantly as the plot progresses, and that’s where the best world-building is hidden. Third, don't rush the ending. The final sequence is a marathon of cutscenes and boss fights that require you to actually pay attention to the items you've collected.
Actionable Steps for New Players
If you want to experience this story the right way, follow this path:
- Download the Reboot: Don't bother with the original 2013 version unless you're a completionist. The 2020 version is the definitive experience with more content.
- Play with Headphones: The soundtrack is half the experience. The shift in audio when the Red Sea takes over is genuinely unsettling and won't hit the same on laptop speakers.
- Save Frequently: Like many RPG Maker games, there are "instant death" choices or Bad Ends that can set you back an hour of progress if you aren't careful.
- Explore the Manga: If the game’s pacing is too slow for you, Deep-Sea Prisoner also wrote and illustrated a manga adaptation that hits the major story beats with incredible artwork.
- Engage with the "Funtom" Wiki: If you get confused by the lore (it gets complicated with all the different gods and demons), the community-run wikis are surprisingly thorough and track the connections between all of DSP's works.
Wadanohara and the Great Blue Sea is a relic of a specific era of the internet, but its heart still beats quite loudly. It’s a story about the weight of responsibility and the price of peace. Just be ready for the tide to turn.
Practical Insight: When playing, prioritize getting the "True End" first. The "Bad Ends" are interesting for lore but can be incredibly draining if you hit them accidentally. To reach the True Ending, ensure you interact with Samekichi whenever possible and don't take the "easy way out" during the final choice in the Red Sea. Your patience with the slow beginning will be rewarded with one of the most memorable finales in the genre.