Minecraft Dungeons 2 Is More Ambitious, More Interesting, And More Flawed

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When Minecraft Dungeons launched in 2020, it was difficult to know exactly what to make of it, or where it stood in the franchise as a whole. One of the world's most popular games had been transformed into a Diablo-lite-style action-RPG, taking away the mining and crafting that give Minecraft its name. In its place was something far more straightforward: kill monsters, collect loot, and repeat.

The simplicity of Minecraft Dungeons was both its greatest strength and its biggest weakness. Its streamlined gear system made it easy to understand, while its enchantments gradually introduced more interesting build possibilities. But its combat could feel a bit too basic.

Minecraft Dungeons 2 feels like developers Mojang and Double Eleven focused their efforts with those limitations in mind. The sequel is far more honed in on what happens between the battles, with expanded inventory systems, more customization options, more reasons to explore, and--perhaps most importantly--a world that actually feels connected to the larger Minecraft universe.

Dungeons felt like it deliberately separated itself from the main game, and that was partly the point. Mojang wanted to create an experience that couldn't be found in vanilla Minecraft, while still using recognizable mobs, environments, and items to make it feel familiar. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WD9GtlgU8_c

Dungeons 2 takes a bold and unusual approach that not many other large franchises could pull off. Its story brings the Sift dimension, which was created for this game but is also coming to the vanilla game in 2027. The Sift is accessed via a portal--a mechanic that will feel familiar to anyone who's played Minecraft--and houses an ethereal dimension with all-new environments, friendly mobs, and enemies. The Sift's being added to the base Minecraft game makes the relationship between the two games feel far more deliberate than it did in the first installment. It also allows Dungeons 2 to feel like a bigger part of the Minecraft universe, rather than a smaller branch forging its own path.

As a result of that, Dungeons 2 made me particularly invested in its new dimension. As a Minecraft fan and veteran player, I was also intrigued about whether any of the narrative elements would be carried over to the main game. I walked around the Sift feeling like I was intruding on an unreleased Minecraft build, eager to check out the biomes, friendly mobs, enemies, and potential materials that can be found in the first new Minecraft dimension in a decade and a half. The Sift is the first Minecraft dimension outside of the Overworld that doesn't feel immediately hostile. In Dungeons 2 it's under threat, so there are hostile mobs to deal with, but the pearlescent lakes, muted blue, pink, and purple color palette, and mobs that cheekily poke their tongue out by way of greeting all lead to a very serene world, one that I'm excited to explore in vanilla Minecraft in 2027. 

By having multiple armor pieces, adding Enchantment Books, and having the ability to jump, Dungeons 2 is actually closer to the vanilla Minecraft experience than its predecessor. It feels almost unbelievable that the first Dungeons didn't include jumping, but Dungeons 2 does. This allows for a broader scope of exploration as you can hop up to hidden platforms to uncover chests, jump across gaps to reach previously inaccessible areas, and dutifully check behind waterfalls for hidden loot. It also adds the jump-attack combination, which allows for a more powerful attack that affects any enemies in range and provides another means of effectively dealing with groups of enemies.

The storyline gives you something simple to care about. Your villager friends aren't just background characters wandering around and making "hmm" noises. They want to live peacefully, yet villains lurk around every corner determined to make that impossible. Every time they attempted to interfere with the villagers' attempts to live happily ever after, I found myself increasingly annoyed at them. It's not the deepest or most emotional narrative by any means, but Dungeons 2 understands that a straightforward story and likeable characters can work in tandem remarkably well. It's a notable improvement over the first game, where the story largely existed only to give you a reason to chase down the Arch-Illager. 

That's not the only area where Dungeons 2 improves upon its predecessor. The original Dungeons had an awkward economy that felt almost meaningless. You collected emeralds constantly but were limited in ways to spend them, with many options feeling worthless. In Dungeons 2, upgrading your gear at the Blacksmith improves your existing gear's stats substantially, while rolling for new gear at the town merchant has the potential to give you more powerful items to complement your build--especially if you've used Echo Shards to upgrade the merchant so he can offer stronger gear. 

Since the Blacksmith required rescuing in the original Dungeons, I somehow managed to miss his arrival in Dungeons 2. By the time I realized he was present in the sequel, I had already salvaged a considerable amount of gear that I probably would have kept had I known I could upgrade it. I'm undecided whether that's down to my campaign tunnel vision, or whether Mojang should have introduced him better.

There is still a problem with this system, though. In placing a maximum cap of 9,999 emeralds, I regularly found myself losing them as I wasn't watching my balance when salvaging old items to exchange for more emeralds. Then, as it can often cost in excess of 1,000 emeralds to upgrade an item, I'd find myself struggling for the currency. A cap absolutely should exist, since it's so easy to get emeralds via exploration and salvage, and is part of what led to emeralds feeling worthless in the original game. But when that cap is making you regularly lose currency that you're actively trying to spend on upgrades, it shows that the economic balance isn't quite right.

Where Dungeons 2 does excel hugely over its predecessor is in its willingness to allow you to establish a coherent build. Instead of one armor piece, you now equip a separate helmet, chest plate, leggings, and boots. This gives you more opportunities to shape your character around a particular playstyle, and I spent much of my playthrough experimenting with different combinations. I tried lightning-, poison-, and soul-focused builds, and each one changed the way I approached combat. 

The soul system was probably my biggest stumbling block. The game doesn't do a particularly good job of explaining what souls are, how you acquire them, or why you might want to build around them. I eventually worked it out through experimentation, but I shouldn't have needed to poke around quite as much just to discover something that is fundamental to an entire build archetype. Once you understand the systems, experimentation is enjoyable, but Dungeons 2 occasionally assumes that you know more than the game has actually taught you. 

A new type of equipment, Talismans, add another layer of build complexity. You can equip up to three at a time, and they grant you a passive ability--some summon other characters or creatures to fight alongside you, while others grant generous buffs to your health, attack power, ammo, and more. Amassing a decent collection of them relies on completing side quests and finding hidden loot, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it means players who rush through the main campaign are potentially missing some of the strongest tools they need to make more interesting builds.

While the first game already had plenty of replay value through its difficulty levels, repeatable missions, hidden levels, and eventual DLC, Dungeons 2 expands upon that even further. There are side quests, dungeons, repeatable boss fights, and Soul Surge activities to complete beyond finishing the campaign. Soul Surge activities are time-limited events where stronger enemies spawn in an area, rewarding higher-tier loot that you can't get through normal gameplay. As a result, Dungeons 2 feels like an ongoing adventure rather than a campaign you complete and never return to. 

It also adds a purpose to the loot system. If you're trying to perfect a poison build, getting another piece of equipment is no longer about increasing your power; it's about improving the synergy between your individual gear pieces. The hunt for the perfect item to slot into your build is pretty moreish, and Dungeons 2 gives plenty of opportunities to do that after the story ends.

However, there's a significant problem with the enchantment system. Enchantment Books are scarce, and I spent most of the main story limited to two of them for my armor pieces. You can use each book an infinite number of times, but in terms of build synergy, it's oddly restrictive. My favorite builds came way beyond the main campaign, and I didn't get that moment of feeling true satisfaction as my poison spread from mob to mob until many hours after I finished. Given the mob density throughout the story and the powerful bosses you face, it would have been more satisfying to discover a few more Enchantment Books as part of the storyline's rewards, instead of seeking them out post-game. However, being forced to explore Dungeons 2's gorgeous environments seeking out better loot is far from a terrible experience.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the biggest problem I faced. My roughly 15-hour playthrough of the main campaign was affected by a number of bugs and glitches, with one particularly persistent issue leaving a "Teleporting" label permanently stuck to my character. It wasn't merely a cosmetic annoyance either, as the bug affected traversal, at times preventing me from jumping or safely navigating the environment. Restarting my game could temporarily resolve some of those problems, but the Teleporting label itself never disappeared, meaning I completed about half of my playthrough with the intrusion. 

For a game that places so much emphasis on exploration and movement through its expanded environments, having traversal occasionally break is a serious problem. It's particularly unfortunate because Dungeons 2's environments are beautiful, and being able to properly explore them is part of what separates this sequel from the more linear structure of the original. Hopefully these issues are addressed in a patch at launch, because they undermine what is otherwise a considerably more polished sequel. 

Dungeons 2 isn't a radical reinvention, and rightly so. The first game was already an enjoyable, approachable dungeon crawler, even if it was deliberately lightweight. Dungeons 2 adds depth and connects its world to the wider Minecraft universe while adding a meaningful economy, a build system with considerably more freedom to experiment, and more post-campaign activities. 

Even though the restrictive emerald cap, scarce Enchantment Books, and technical issues dampened my experience somewhat, the difference between the titles is clear. Where Minecraft Dungeons was a charming introduction to the dungeon-crawler genre, Dungeons 2 builds a deeper action-RPG within the same familiar, blocky framework. While it doesn't completely escape the limitations of its predecessor, Minecraft Dungeons 2 is a more ambitious sequel that finally gives its loot, builds, and world the depth that was missing, even if a few rough edges remain.

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Ace Combat 8 Is Utterly Absurd–And Better Off For It

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I never knew I could be so enamored by clouds. There were times in my youth–typically sitting on a train or in the back of a car–when I would absentmindedly stare out the window at interesting cloud formations. Nowadays, phones, laptops, and handheld consoles tend to distract me from the world passing by, but in Ace Combat 8: Wings of Theve, clouds are its ever-present pièce de résistance. 

For all the high-tech jets, explosive action, and melodrama at the game's core, it's the bountiful sky and its stunning portraits of a version of our planet at varying altitudes that truly grab the eye. Flying through a rain cloud as it douses the cockpit window with droplets of water never gets old, and simply cruising through the air is almost tranquil at times. 

Yet Ace Combat 8's clouds aren't mere window dressing. From gauging your altitude by the density of the clouds around you to using them as cover to break a missile lock, Ace Combat 8 uses this technology to push the series forward in tangible ways that go beyond aesthetics.

Ace Combat 7: Skies Unknown is one of the best examples of a game singlehandedly reviving a dormant series–and earning back its goodwill after the disappointment of Assault Horizon–so Ace Combat 8 didn't have to change all that much to keep the good times rolling. It stays true to the series' arcadey dogfighting roots while implementing a number of incremental improvements, making for a slightly more dynamic and intense experience as you go from sustaining heavy G-forces to unleashing a barrage of missiles. 

The story is more prominent and also personal this time around, too, strictly focusing on the members of a single squadron amid a major conflict. Set in Ace Combat's fictional war-torn world of Strangereal, the story begins as the Republic of Sotoa invades the Federation of Central Usea (FCU), quickly occupying much of the nation and scattering its military forces.

Outmanned and outgunned, the FCU relies on propaganda to keep morale alive. This is where the eponymous Wings of Theve comes into play: a legendary fighter pilot known for taking down dozens of enemy aircraft in the fight against the invading Sotoa forces. 

Except none of the pilot’s legend is true. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n5irVTl0mD8

War propaganda is nothing new, of course, but this immediately reminded me of Ukraine's Ghost of Kyiv. This mythical flying ace was alleged to have shot down six Russian planes over the capital city of Kyiv back in February 2022. The Ghost's exploits quickly spread like wildfire in the media and online, but two months later, the Ukrainian air force revealed it was simply propaganda to boost morale.

It's easy to see how this might've influenced developer Bandai Namco Aces when creating Wings of Theve. But this is also an Ace Combat game, so it doesn't take long for things to get weird. Top Gun has always heavily influenced the series, so just imagine a scenario where Top Gun: Maverick opens with Tom Cruise crashing and dying, then passing his spirit on to a new pilot who adopts the Maverick callsign. 

For the rest of the movie, Tom Cruise exists as a dead guy in the new, silent protagonist's head, passing on sage wisdom and sharing his jaded thoughts on the war with a melancholy similar to the most recent Wolfenstein's B.J. Blazkowicz. Oh, and Top Gun is an anime now, too.

That is Ace Combat in a nutshell. A dead pilot narrating from inside your head might sound odd if you've never played the series before, but this kind of left-field choice is par for the course. Okay, maybe it has never gone quite this far--the Johnny Silverhand gimmick suits Cyberpunk much better--but it still fits the eccentric tone. There's no rhyme or reason to it, and the story wouldn't change all that much if it were removed entirely, yet I can't help feeling oddly gleeful that it even exists. 

Unfortunately, the basic premise doesn't hold up to much scrutiny. The pilot killed in the opening was the propagandized Wings of Theve, alleged to have shot down multiple enemies despite not opening fire on a single foe. Their famed callsign is now yours, but because this is a video game, it doesn't take long to turn fiction into fact. The Wings of Theve isn't an idea anymore; it's a real pilot who's gunning down enemies and turning the tide of war almost single-handedly, so anything interesting that might've derived from the propaganda angle is disappointingly absent.

Similarly, Ace Combat 8 lays the groundwork to comment on modern warfare in the age of social media, AI, and the mass sharing of disinformation, but all of these themes are ultimately window dressing. Social media is bad when the bad guys use it but good when the good guys do--this is the kind of social commentary you can expect.

Nuanced discussions aren't on the menu; instead, Ace Combat 8 basks in melodrama, with writing full of bold ideological statements and rousing speeches about borders, heroism, and the big blue sky. In the wrong hands, it could feel ham-fisted, but there's also a wide-eyed earnestness at play that's both endearing and optimistic. 

The new first-person perspective in cutscenes regularly features moments where you need to hit A to salute, shake hands, and so on, which veers into "Press F to pay respects" territory. Yet without Call of Duty's self-seriousness, it works in a campy sort of way. 

Humanizing touches also help the cast's pronounced personalities shine through, from Tasha Severskaya, a pink-haired civilian who's the squad's best pilot but hasn't yet pulled the trigger, to her wingman William Coster, who stays mostly silent until a mission where he learns one of the pilots you're trying to rescue used to be in his favorite rock band.

Ace Combat 8 does a good job building up your squad by delving into their unique character arcs through cutscenes and radio chatter during missions. The story has issues and is fairly by-the-numbers, but its bombast is entertaining enough, especially when it indulges in absurdity in a way only Ace Combat can. 

Where else would you face off against an ominous land battleship equipped with a railgun that can wipe out entire city blocks in an instant? Or regularly run into an evil squadron of enemy pilots that plays ominous music over the radio whenever they show up; music that gradually evolves each time they appear, eventually culminating in a pulse-racing dogfight set to some of the best video game music you'll likely ever hear.

Again, this is par for the course, whether it's a sweeping orchestral piece, a prolonged Spanish Guitar solo, or an up-tempo J-rock track. Ace Combat 8 lives up to the series' reputation for phenomenal music, adding another indispensable layer to the game's thrilling combat.

Flying through a rain cloud as it douses the cockpit window with droplets of water never gets old, and simply cruising through the air is almost tranquil at times.

Piloting its assortment of real and fictional jets is surprisingly simple, letting you get into the swing of things relatively quickly. Ace Combat 8 still has that classic arcadey Ace Combat style, but the planes feel slightly heavier than before--like there's more heft beneath the joystick--adding to the satisfying sensation that hits when you accelerate at full tilt and break through the sound barrier. 

The unmistakable crack of a sonic boom, accompanied by the distinctive vapor cone that engulfs your jet and then dissipates just as quickly as it arrives, is always exciting to pull off. Combine this with the way you can execute high-G turns, either to attempt to stay on the enemy's tail or dodge incoming missiles, and the act of soaring through the air is enjoyable in and of itself. 

Blowing up enemy aircraft is its own kind of reward, of course. Tougher enemies ensure that it's challenging to simply stay on their tail and achieve a missile lock-on, using tricks you would expect human pilots to use, such as dashing through clouds to break line-of-sight, launching flares, and pulling off cobra maneuvers to turn the hunter into the hunted. Some larger aircraft also have multiple lock-on targets, letting you pick whether you want to focus on, say, taking out their anti-aircraft guns first or destroying their propellers to send them tumbling out of the sky.   

Between knocking down buildings in the path of the aforementioned land battleship and shooting down suicidal drones to prevent them from destroying a space elevator, there's also plenty of variety from one mission to the next. After 30 years of Ace Combat, it feels like Bandai Namco Aces picked a few of their favorite scenarios from the series' past, while sprinkling in some new sortie types as well. 

One mission, for instance, has you flying an unarmed aircraft through a valley while avoiding detection from enemy radar. Others have you establish airspace dominance, follow contrails to locate massive stealth bombers, and take out coastal ground forces to protect your naval fleet's advance. There's a plethora of blood-pumping moments, although it does stumble into some pacing issues as well.

With 30 levels in total, Ace Combat 8 seems stretched at times. Some missions feel like filler, slightly nudging the story forward while tasking you with fairly basic objectives as though you're simply painting by numbers. They're not intrinsically bad, but these missions typically follow some of Ace Combat 8's more dramatic endeavors. 

I understand potentially wanting to break these levels up with more relaxed sorties to help you catch your breath, but it has the adverse effect of stalling the game's momentum. Fortunately, this isn't a problem as the campaign ramps up toward a particularly histrionic conclusion, yet I can't help but feel like it could've been a more tightly paced experience if a few missions were cut.

That said, I must commend some of these levels for being more open-ended, giving you the freedom to pick and choose your targets, which ties into Ace Combat 8's deeper pre-flight options. 

Before each mission, you can select your plane, its armaments, and a number of parts geared toward enhancing your mobility, weaponry, and other miscellaneous stats. You unlock all of this through an extensive Aircraft Tree, giving you new jets, weapons, and upgrades to play around with throughout the entirety of the game.

Some jets are tailored more for speed and dogfighting, while others excel at wiping out ground targets with bombs and land-based missile strikes. You can further improve these aspects with upgrade parts that enhance maneuverability, shorten air-to-air missile lock-on time, expand your bomb payload, and more. This isn't a rigid, universal system like before, either; each aircraft has a specific capacity for each upgrade type, making some of the more expensive jets feel much more powerful.

You can also outfit each squadmate with specific aircraft and weaponry, maybe balancing land-based attacks with air support, or fully favoring one or the other. However, I never noticed much difference in practice. The return of squad commands is more palpable, letting you order your squadmates to utilize their special weaponry when heavy targets appear, encourage them to be more aggressive, or demand that they fall back and support you. 

If you'd prefer having actual humans by your side, Ace Combat 8 also features the series' most exhaustive multiplayer suite so far. There are 100-player lobbies where you can customize your pilot avatar and wander around, visit the arcade to play Pac-Man, or head to a supply shop to obtain loot crates, among other distractions. 

There's also a battle pass--called the Ace Pass--with both free and premium tiers that unlock upgrades, consumables, and cosmetics for both your avatar and aircraft. We were only given a short multiplayer session to try out before launch, so it remains to be seen whether any pay-to-win aspects are at play. 

You can purchase new aircraft with an in-game currency earned by completing matches, but you're also limited by your rank, so you can't just buy the best jets right away. This seems like a good solution, but it depends on what's available if you're willing to spend real money.

Ace Combat 8's multiplayer rests on two main pillars: Co-op Assault and Co-op Warfare, which let you jump into PvE or PvP matches, respectively. Co-op Assault challenges teams of two to four players to complete a shared objective, rewarding victory to the team with the highest score. 

Co-op Warfare is similar, only you can destroy players on the other team as well, racking up points by taking out computer-controlled units and real players alike. Once again, the highest score wins, but escalating scores also raise the threat level, adding a score multiplier to each kill. The higher the threat, the bigger the swings, making for some intense matches.  

Additionally, limited-time modes occasionally pop up in lobbies. Scramble lets a team of four go head-to-head against powerful computer-controlled squads, while Emergency Sorties task eight players with defeating iconic super-weapons from previous Ace Combat games. Special PvP events also crop up from time to time, featuring four-on-four deathmatches and eight-player free-for-alls. 

Dogfights against human players are inherently fascinating, because even the best enemy AI can't possibly compare with the human mind. There's also plenty here if you'd prefer to team up with friends; the only question marks I have are centered on the battle pass and whether there are any other ways of spending real money to potentially gain an advantage. All of this remains to be seen.

Even if the multiplayer favors those with expendable cash, Ace Combat 8's single-player adventure is still worth the price of admission alone. The story could've been stronger--more introspective--but is entertaining regardless, and while there are some pacing issues with filler missions and some uneven momentum, much of the game is excellent, providing the series' signature blend of melodrama, stirring music, and thrilling aerial combat. Ace Combat 8: Wings of Theve picks up where Ace Combat 7 left off, underlining that the series is well and truly back to its best

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Silent Hill: Townfall Completes The Series’ Comeback With Another Great Entry

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Only a few years ago, the Silent Hill name was considered a relic of the horror genre. Its best efforts were its earliest from 20 or more years ago, and it had since lost its way. Lately, though, it's found its footing again, first with Bloober Team's remarkable remake of Silent Hill 2 in 2024, then with 2025's brilliantly rule-breaking Silent Hill f. Now, with Screen Burn's Silent Hill: Townfall, the comeback feels complete. Townfall is the third memorable entry in as many years, reviving a legendary series for a new era.

Like Silent Hill f, Townfall defies tradition and takes the series outside the United States, this time to Scotland. There, an American man named Simon Ordell washes up on the shore of a blue-collar island town, St. Amelia. Right away, Townfall captures the all-important tone of a Silent Hill game. It's more than the fog that's become synonymous with the series: It's the unsettling stillness, the sense of sadness lurking in every shop and down every alleyway that lingers like a harbinger of the dread that will certainly follow. Though it adheres to some of the series' touchstones, it's a fully standalone entry. It works just as well if this is your first Silent Hill game.

As you explore the town, it becomes clear early on that St. Amelia has suffered a tragedy so severe that the community was shuttered almost overnight. Heartfelt memorials in the town square dedicate pictures and words to loved ones taken too soon, and the displays are only matched in number and emotion by the many protest signs demanding accountability. The finer details, of course, aren't yours to understand for a long while. Like the fog and its accompanying melancholy, Silent Hill also serves as the stage for startling truths that only emerge late in a character's journey. 

But if you think you know where it's going, I bet you don't. Screen Burn's founder and Townfall's writer Jon McKellan once ran a fansite dedicated to this series, and that sort of lifelong devotion is clear by the end of Townfall. He and his team understand what Silent Hill has been, but also--and more importantly--what it can be. The rules of this universe are played a bit fast and loose, and it's better for it. Is Silent Hill a physical place, or an idea? Is everyone found there sent to suffer? While some themes re-emerge like somber notes on a mandolin, some of Townfall's best parts are how it toys with expectations, twisting them into new shapes and sometimes rejecting them.

Townfall feels a lot like Silent Hill 2 early on. The original music, as great as it is in its own right, deliberately recalls the series' heyday, and you'll spend some early hours navigating through the roundabout corridors of a hospital and an apartment complex. But this is more than a "fan game" liberally reusing what's worked before. Screen Burn makes it its own.

That's most obvious in how it's played. Townfall is presented in first-person, as few games in the series have been before it, and introduces a new gameplay element that relies on a handheld piece of analog tech--the sort of physical contraption this team made its name on with games like Stories Untold and Observation. Whereas many games in the series use a radio to passively alert you to nearby threats, Townfall's CRTV is closer to Alien Isolation's motion scanner and demands active participation.

With it, Simon can see hazy outlines of the fleshy monsters left shambling around the streets of St. Amelia. As the player, you'll need to tune it often, picking up the signals of these creatures, then swapping between them to carefully track their movements and avoid their gaze. Early encounters made this tech feel like an afterthought, but once Simon is outnumbered three to one--or worse--it proves its usefulness. Combined with the way Simon can lean around corners and over cover, this is certainly the most stealth-driven game in the series.

You can also distract enemies by turning on radios or throwing objects before hiding in places like lockers, waiting for enemies to give you an opening. In some areas where enemies are especially numerous, I found these lockers to be too helpful, but because enemies were best avoided, I used them often, which made those semi-scripted moments lose their effect before long.

Simon's handheld CRTV device acts like an evolution of the series' static on the radio.

But such moments weren't the norm. Much more often, you'll need to carefully pick your openings to sneak past enemies, or else face them head-on. The music bears down on you in those close calls, creating urgency and the right kind of stress befitting any horror story, and when you do get spotted, facing them only piles on that tension. Despite being in first-person, combat in Townfall reminded me a lot of the Silent Hill 2 remake, because each encounter demands focus and well-timed attacks, and it's best avoided whenever possible. It's extremely tense.

Enemies eat a good chunk of your health with each hit, and though enemy design could be more varied, they do express some important differences that make controlling a crowd of even just two of them a breathless fight to the death. I spent more than half the game completely avoiding combat whenever I could, and about three-quarters of it never firing my gun, because doing so runs the risk of alerting more enemies. 

Like the fog and its accompanying melancholy, Silent Hill also serves as the stage for startling truths that only emerge late in a character's journey. 

Townfall's combat is usually soaked in desperation and had me bracing for bad outcomes in all the ways a horror game should. This changed in the latter third of the game, where I was handed more than enough resources in a few different instances, trivializing some encounters. But these moments of empowerment weren't the norm, thankfully, and Townfall maintained its creepy vibe from start to finish.

Another benefit of the first-person view is how much detail it lets Screen Burn pack into Townfall. Approaching desks or shop windows, it's almost always the case that you can read anything on those surfaces. You can find many notes to collect in a way that signifies they're highly plot-relevant, and many even help you solve the game's environmental puzzles, all of which feel right at home for a Silent Hill game, though they are never as convoluted as the series' early era. 

Even more abundant than these plot-relevant collectibles are the smaller details the game doesn't call out. Noticing these details isn't crucial to enjoying Townfall's story, but they're no less engaging, filling in the world's history and teasing snippets of the game's central mystery. Everything is purpose-built, from the particular hue of the Otherworld sections (this time called the "Different") to the design of the monsters, which you can't easily notice before you kill them. I was so worried about Simon's place in the story that I found myself dodging combat not just to save on health kits, but to not earn the ire of the game's hidden ending calculator, and that stemmed from the way this game invites you to take a proverbial microscope to it.

Otherworld sections return, though with a new look owed to important symbols in the story.

As is often the case with Silent Hill, it's only when Townfall's final cards are turned over that much will make sense, and even then you can be sure there are additional endings to chase down in subsequent playthroughs for added context. But even on a first pass, Townfall is able to stand out from the shadow of the series' best games and earn its place beside them. While it doesn't reach the peak this series has previously found, Townfall's story gives me a familiar, welcome headache as I try to piece everything together. 

Thematically, it does well to stand in two universes at once: feeling like an homage to the series' best while still sharing a perspective that is painfully timeless. Townfall is set in 1996, but its expressions of cruelty are alive and well today. At the same time--and maybe this will sound strange once you've played it for yourself--it's also one of the more hopeful entries in the series. It doesn't trade discomfort for hope, by any means. It's still a dark story that expresses some uncomfortable coldness the way this series is known to do, but it finds a way to let just a little light in without tearing out its jet-black heart.

Townfall, like Silent Hill f before it, expresses what I love most about the comeback. As the idea of Silent Hill is uprooted and moved all over the world, we're seeing it through new cultural perspectives in a way we never have before. We spent nearly 30 years discussing and debating what Silent Hill was and is. Even the teams assigned the daunting task of replacing Team Silent seemed intent on doing their best impressions of the earliest and most beloved games. Townfall doesn't just prove that studios like Screen Burn know where Silent Hill comes from; it shows us where Silent Hill can go.

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Control Resonant’s Best Aspect Left Me Utterly Speechless

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Remedy Entertainment's signature style has often made gameplay feel secondary to story. Games like Alan Wake, Quantum Break, and Control had fun gameplay hooks, but the depth mostly lived in their narrative puzzle-boxes, where the answer to each strange mystery created three more questions. Control Resonant breaks from tradition magnificently, revealing a whole new side to Remedy. Armed with deep, engaging combat mechanics in a stunning version of Manhattan that is unforgettable, Control Resonant is a confident delivery of Remedy's best gameplay experience ever that never sacrifices the team's unique brand of weirdness. 

Control Resonant takes place seven years after the first game, with the mystical Oldest House still under siege from the Hiss invasion. Now, outside the Oldest House's once-secret doors, a second Altered World Event is threatening Manhattan. With Federal Bureau of Control director Jesse Faden gone AWOL for reasons unknown and much of the bureau dead or displaced, her brother Dylan is released from his holding cell as Plan B. 

If that paragraph of proper nouns leaves your head swimming, I understand. And although Control Resonant doesn't shy away from throwing a lot at you in its story, it does give newcomers a helpful recap of the first game to get them up to speed. The important thing to know is that New York City is under attack from a paranatural threat, and Dylan Faden, once the puppet of the Hiss and blamed for much of the carnage to date, is reluctantly given a chance at redemption.

Whereas Control was a third-person shooter, Control Resonant is a melee-focused action game that winds up feeling like a dark superhero-adjacent adventure akin to Infamous or Prototype. However, Resonant has so much Remedy flair that these comparisons are best understood as suboptimal shorthand for something ultimately deeper and more enjoyable.

Dylan's weapon of choice is the Aberrant, a piece of shape-shifting metal that becomes the basis for intricate combat builds. The Aberrant has several forms ranging from a pair of quick-strike clubs with a chance for critical hits and a larger scythe that does slower but more sweeping damage, to a tweener form that is neither especially fast nor slow but does bonus damage from behind enemies. 

The game encourages you to switch up your build often with respec tokens and a huge tree of upgrades--it's hard to see any of the many options as obviously advantageous, allowing you to experiment without feeling like you're being funneled down a specific path. I loved experimenting with the many different abilities and combinations. Over the course of the 30-40 hour story, you'll fortify the Aberrant and Dylan alike with this treasure trove of combat enhancements, equipping up to six special abilities at a time and combining different sets of them nearly whenever you want to. Each of them gives Dylan a distinctly different feel, but what they have in common is how good they look and feel to use. 

There are shields, telekinetics, friendly summons, and more to pick from the deeper you go. My experience with Resonant may feel very different from yours, and that's partly why it works so well.

Control Resonant's power climb over those hours is supremely satisfying because it invites--and then rewards--thoughtful decisions by the player. For instance, rather than chip away at enemy health bars, you can build their Falter meter. When filled, you can perform finishing moves that give you Dominance, a damage buff that lasts for a short period. Enemies normally drop health refills when killed, while enemies executed from a Falter finisher don't drop health, but empower you with that Dominance, which converts to enemies dropping extra health when dispatched, creating a risk-versus-reward dynamic. With so many enemies often swarming Dylan, each encounter is a fight of quick decisions as you trade health for damage at the right times, keeping Dylan upright and saving the buffs for the right enemies as you see fit. 

Resonant has no parry or blocking mechanic, as the game's combat is built entirely around aggression, including a dodge mechanic that rewards you with at least a perfect-timing window for a counter, and possibly more buffs depending on your build. When played well, Dylan is always on the offensive, dashing around the map to bash ground-based enemies, double-jumping into the air to reach flying enemies, and carefully but decisively managing his powers so that he has the solution to the problems thrown his way in each bout. 

On its default difficulty, Resonant is pretty tough. It's no souls-like, but it'll give some players fits, as it did with me early on. As I learned each enemy's strengths and weaknesses and kept imbuing Dylan with his own remarkable tools for the job, I felt better prepared for what lay ahead. However, if you're coming to this Remedy game for narrative, which is what it's historically done best, and find yourself jumped by the challenge, the game's Assist Mode offers nuanced custom difficulty options, with a few presets you can choose if you don't want to tweak each meter yourself. 

So much happens at once in every battle, and all this chaos sounds like it might hinder performance, especially when you throw in all the visual noise--like the Hiss' wispy shadows, explosions going off in the streets, and all of the various physics and effects the game pours on--but I played this game for 45 hours on PC (RTX 4070, for the record) without a single hitch. As much as the gameplay depth is a novel showcase for Remedy, its in-house Northlight engine shoulders the burden handily and looks dazzling while doing so.

The strong technical performance only gets more obvious the deeper you get into the main story, where Remedy's artistic efforts become more ambitious. This vision of New York is unlike anything I've ever seen, and though trailers have hinted at some of the arresting art design Resonant features, it's truly something special to behold. Scenes of the city folding in on itself à la Inception are merely scratching the surface. Both the world and the enemies, especially the bosses, are nothing short of jaw-dropping. 

In fact, some later areas of the story get so breathtakingly unique that my only gripe with Control Resonant is how often I'd get lost trying to explore some of these more elaborate spaces, especially since the map wouldn't often bail me out of those jams, recalling a similar issue with navigating the original Control. 

But these frustrations ultimately feel like a small price to pay for the kaleidoscopic wonders Remedy has built. I'm writing this before much of the world has had a chance to see what I'm talking about, and it gives me goosebumps to think about living vicariously through the new eyes that will soon experience the marvels of Control Resonant's world design. Building on the already high bar set by Alan Wake 2's aspirations, Remedy aimed even higher and achieved something I've not seen in any medium.

Playing Resonant, I've thought a lot about how such engaging, complex combat design will speak to a new type of player previously not interested in Remedy games. Thankfully, if you're here first and foremost for the weirdness, it still has plenty of that too. Alongside the 30-hour main story, the several zones of the world each have tons to do, and in many cases, these side quests express Remedy's special brand of strange. I spent some time off the golden path chasing an elusive baby stroller across rooftops, singing life-or-death karaoke, siccing a cat on the Hiss, playing Spot the Difference with an extradimensional taxi cab, and investigating a covert surveillance operation that hides out in places like coffee shops and pizza restaurants, to name a few. 

Every side mission I undertook was enjoyable, and I've done nearly all of them, though the map and quest log suggest I have a few more to go in what is a bigger game than I expected. Some missions have been especially strong reminders that, like Alan Wake 2 before it, Control Resonant feels like an experience only Remedy could've possibly made. Even with much more focus on combat, this has all the hallmarks of a Remedy game.

That means a healthy dose of levity, though I love how Resonant finds new depth not just in its gameplay and world design but in its emotional core, too. Remedy games have previously done mystery, action, comedy, and horror very well. But this is the first time a Remedy game has left me feeling choked up. I adored Dylan's story, both in the present--as he works to redeem himself while surrounded mostly by people who loathe him and tell him as much bluntly--and in the past, as I explored his relationship with Jesse and their parents. 

There's a lot more to know about Dylan, and Sean Durrie plays him with an appropriate somberness. It consistently hurt to see him beat himself up because that antagonism is the only way he's ever been treated by anyone but Jesse. Watching his character arc take shape, and even informing it a bit with dialogue options that don't change the story but do change the shading of Dylan's thoughts and actions, was an even more unexpected achievement than Resonant's deep combat design. Despite everything it does so well, Dylan's personal journey is just about my favorite thing in the entire game, second only to the art direction that melted my brain.

Control Resonant

Though I enjoyed the story's way of catching up with characters from the original game and seeing how they've changed, one of my favorite characters is Dylan's handler, Zoe De Vera, a newcomer to the world of Control. She could've been the typical voice on the radio, giving Dylan orders to simply push the story forward, but Remedy pulls her into the spotlight enough to make her an empathetic character, too. As the Altered World Event reshapes reality around them, it's Dylan and Zoe's chemistry, not the New Weird circumstances, that really fuels the narrative intrigue for me.

Alongside the stellar art direction and a surprisingly touching story, Control Resonant's gameplay loop feels more mainstream than anything this team has made since Max Payne. Such intentional smoothing could've been damning if done poorly, but it doesn't feel like Remedy sacrifices any part of itself to chase a wider audience, even as Resonant may well find one anyway. Control Resonant is Remedy's take on a semi-open-world character-action game, and that might sound like an experience you've had before, but at the transdimensional intersection of its impeccable combat design and the studio's signature strangeness stands something unforgettably unique.

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Resident Evil Finally Captures The Breathless Terror Of The Games

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Few movies can truly say they hit the ground running, but Zach Cregger’s Resident Evil is among them. And that’s a good thing, because after so many Resident Evil movies, every new one needs a running start to have a chance of making it.

We can’t talk about a Resident Evil movie without doing a little bit of table-setting first, though. Resident Evil debuted on PlayStation in 1996 and coined the name for an emerging game genre: Survival Horror. Since then, Paul W.S. Anderson has directed six live-action Resident Evil movies starring his photogenic and acrobatic wife Milla Jovovich. 2021 brought us the Robbie Amell-led Resident Evil: Welcome to Raccoon City. That’s not counting the half-dozen CGI Resident Evil movies that more or less act as canonical extensions of the game series. Generally speaking, the Resident Evil movies have been on a downward trend since early into Anderson’s tenure. Now, in 2026, the unkillable movie franchise rises again, this time with Zach Cregger, director of Barbarian and Weapons, acting as the head of the monster.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mNd1gb19A-c

Resident Evil follows medical courier Bryan (Austin Abrams) as he drops off a package and argues with his girlfriend over the phone. Instead of going home to talk to her about it, though, Bryan jumps at the chance to take a high-priority delivery to Raccoon City. It needs to get there intact, and without any detours. A perfect way to not talk about any personal problems Bryan might have. Bryan starts questioning his decision when he hits a woman in a nightgown while driving in the dark down a slick road in heavy snow.

That moment marks the point in which Bryan is in over his head and finds himself in a race to survive.

Bryan is not a hero. He is perhaps the least heroic character to lead a Resident Evil movie. And that’s a huge factor in why this disgusting, hilarious, and often frightening movie works. Bryan doesn’t have special forces training, and like so many of us, he’s only ever wielded a gun using a video game controller. 

As he curses and fumbles his way through this horrifying night, he’s easy to sympathize with. He’s a sort of self-insert character for the audience, but not in the usual way we think of. What if you sat down to play Resident Evil for the first time but woke up in that world? The vast majority of us would be stuck in a stumbling run, trying to load the last rounds we have with shaking hands. That’s Bryan–always breathless and on the edge of a panic attack.

But Bryan never stops, and the movie doesn’t, either. Resident Evil runs at a breakneck pace through the film's entire 95-minute runtime. There are no quiet moments to breathe and reflect: It’s a horrible night where one disaster pushes Bryan into the next one. Each time he’s found something resembling safety, he’s yanked right back into the endless nightmare. It’s a marathon movie in the vein of movies like Mad Max: Fury Road and Run Lola Run.

As such, Resident Evil is more of a tense movie than a scary one. There are a handful of great jump scares, of course, and tons of viscera just everywhere. It’s also a very funny movie. Cregger cut his teeth on the sketch comedy show Whitest Kids U Know (he’s in good company with Jordan Peele and Curry Barker as sketch comedy alums making some of the best horror flicks around), and he’s said in interviews that he had to cut tons of jokes. Our protagonist copes with his nightmarish surroundings with humor. The jokes land, but they don’t destroy the tension and terror by any means. In fact, some of the best laughs come when we know something very bad is about to happen, and I still found myself backing into my seat when the bad thing came to pass.

Resident Evil fans will find plenty to enjoy here. There are no cameos from any Raccoon Police Department officers or members of STARS, but there are references all over the place. These are things that the average moviegoer might notice, but that only fans will understand. And even the monsters feel like they were created by and for Resident Evil fans.

There aren’t actually that many zombies in this movie, though they certainly do help propel it along. Instead of relying on classic Resident Evil monsters, Cregger treats us to mostly original monsters, but ones that feel like they’re in the lineage of the T-Virus. Masses of arms and legs, tentacles that end in teeth, you name it. I felt right at home watching the movie, but it still surprised me with awesome, gnarly, and nauseating monsters around every corner.

By backing away from the stories and characters of the video games, Cregger dodges the giant bullet of “that’s not my Leon Kennedy” and instead lets us finally experience Resident Evil ourselves, through our own eyes. The artifice of a campy action movie is gone, and we’re left with a terrified guy who runs from one set of problems, only to encounter something far worse.

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Fire Emblem: Fortune’s Weave Is The Series’ New Peak

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Even for a series known for its sprawling scope, Fire Emblem: Fortune's Weave is ambitious. Nintendo and developer Intelligent Systems clearly approached this latest entry in the series having learned from its success in Three Houses, its missteps in Engage, and even some of the series' historical oddities. Fortune's Weave rewards those craving both deep interconnected stories and intricate, interlocking RPG systems in equal measure, creating a new high-water mark for the series.

The structure of Fortune's Weave often feels like a series of concentric circles, constantly broadening and deepening your understanding of its systems and its characters. It's so massive it's hard to even know where to start, so I'll begin where the game does: in the future.

Or at least, in a futuristic, science-fiction setting that is strikingly different from the series' norm. Right from the beginning of Fortune's Weave, your created character, Eshmel, is literally created, birthed by sci-fi-coded magic as the last hope for humanity against the army of the Demon Lord, who is already on the verge of total victory. Fortuna, the Goddess of Fate, is cooperating with the last bastions of humanity and sees an opportunity to turn the tide in your favor. Four instrumental heroes, the legendary Flame Lords, can be recruited to help in the coming fight, so Fortuna sends Eshmel back in time to a key moment in the Flame Lords' lives to guide them. That moment is their participation in the Heroic Games, a sort of gladiatorial and tactical version of the ancient Greek Olympics. 

Right away, this imbues the story, and the Flame Lords' individual stories, with propulsive force. You know from the very beginning that your ultimate destiny is leading toward a major escalation, but you also know these four characters are special, destined for greatness in ways that make them inflection points in history. In many stories like this, you see individual protagonists and slowly come to learn of a mysterious visitor who reveals a greater destiny. In Fortune's Weave, you are the mysterious visitor, and you have hidden knowledge that they don't, creating an interesting dynamic as you watch the events of their lives unfold.

This premise also creates a setting that confidently blends tropes from the Age of Antiquity, smooth futuristic science-fiction, and high fantasy. Regardless of the particular details in your character creation, Eshmel has an otherworldly quality to them that seems distinctly out of place in the nation of Dagda, which is obviously inspired by ancient empires, and both Eshmel and the Flame Lords themselves all regularly interact with actual gods and goddesses. It's a compelling blend of storytelling motifs that feels fresh and new for this series.

Fire Emblem: Fortune's Weave

Fortuna emphasizes the importance of recruiting the Flame Lords to have any real hope of defeating the Demon King, but you can actually proceed to the endgame at any time. After finishing the prologue you could, technically, proceed to the final battles alone. I wasn't brave enough to attempt this, but I'm sure some impressive Fire Emblem experts will pull it off. For me, simply having the option emphasized a central theme of the game. You constantly have choices about how to approach almost every aspect, even down to the core structure of it. You can play and pivot in whatever manner you choose.

The four Flame Lords can be played in any order, and each has their own motivation for competing in the Heroic Games, in which the winner is promised to be granted a single wish. Cai is a young boy hoping to save his father from a false imprisonment; Dietrich is an expert swordsman looking to prove himself by taking on the toughest opponents; Theodora is a newly crowned warrior queen who wants to clear a historical injustice for her people; and Leda is a dancer and refugee who sees the games as an opportunity to get close enough to her father's killer that she can exact revenge. Each of the stories is a compelling premise, though I only played through Leda and Theodora's stories so far. Each of them is driven to a fault, obsessed and single-minded, even when their motivations are ostensibly just or even noble. 

You spend a lot of time with each hero you choose, gaining insights about their motivations and desires as they navigate the twists of their individual stories. And that's one of the most impressive tricks in Fire Emblem: Fortune's Weave--these stories are satisfying on their own as individual narratives, but grow even richer in conversation with each other, and with the larger story of the war against the Demon King. It's a layered narrative that builds upon itself and becomes more compelling the more you explore it.

Leda is going through a lot right now

Once you enter the story of a Flame Lord, you can play it to completion or jump out to dabble in others. Again, you always have choices. But the individual Flame Lord stories themselves have a smooth difficulty ramp, scaling up the challenge as you continuously recruit more forces to your side, upgrade your skills and equipment, and unlock new classes. 

That does mean you have to repeat some easier missions when you begin a new Flame Lord's quest, but the strength of the narrative pulled me through those easier missions. And a series of Notable Deeds grants you currency to spend on things like universal XP boosts, which create a glide path to maintain momentum as you go back to visit other Flame Lords from the beginning.

The structure of the Heroic Games is simple. You climb a bracket of competitors, starting with lower-level recruitable characters and building your way up to more serious opponents, sometimes including the other Flame Lords. The matches are set for specific days on the calendar, giving you downtime between story quests to partake in side quests and paralogues, recruit new units, etc. 

While the Heroic Games take place inside the capital city of Dagsion, there's a massive world map outside of its walls to explore. I found the map movement a little clunky, as you have to select an action (move, wait, search, etc) on map nodes before selecting a direction to move a limited number of spaces, similar to a board game. The idea, though, is that every action you do outside of Dagsion's walls--and some that you do inside--makes time pass. You can't simply farm random encounters to get overpowered for the main quests. You have to manage your time and make use of it wisely to balance the various demands of side quests, leveling up, and making progress on recruiting new team members. It sounds daunting, but I found the system was flexible enough to absorb some time wasted without feeling too punishing. For those who want to take on the toughest challenges with permadeath turned on, however, I expect this system to be a satisfying challenge for meticulous min-maxxers. 

Strategy combat in Fire Emblem: Fortune's Weave

Similarly, some activities in Dagsion can only be performed weekly. Those include giving gifts or attending a play--sorry, you can't simply love-bomb a character you want to recruit--or training at the Arena. It also includes performing acts of service at the temples of the gods. Some characters are naturally more pious than others, granting bigger bonuses to your acts of worship. And each god grants you a special benefit that can be used in battle. Fortuna is unlocked from the start, letting you rewind turns, but there are others to be discovered with important passive benefits that can turn the tide of battle.

Exploring the map outside of Dagsion is a must, because it's vital for completing your Flame Lord's individual quests and gaining Renown. Each Flame Lord has their own specialized quests, and those give you much bigger bonuses to Renown points than any other side quests. Theodora, for example, has to scour the world searching for supplies to send back to her nation, while Leda gets tips about taverns in distant cities where she can perform. Those grant you regular rewards like any other side quest, including even unlocking some specialized classes early, but the real reward is Renown.

Renown is an important resource because it's one of two factors that determine who you can recruit. The other is Support, which you gain by improving your Flame Lord's bond with another character via giving gifts or sharing meals. I found progressing this stat fairly slow, so it can take time to win someone over to your side--even as the ticking clock of the game means you may not manage to recruit everyone you had your eye on. Fortunately, there's a good variety of recruitable characters with different level requirements, so as long as you're making a little progress with several at a time, you'll get a decent flow of additional allies.

Sun's out, guns out

Randomized battles also populate the world map, along with dungeons that can be explored in third-person a la Fire Emblem: Shadows of Valentia. Those provide a nice change of pace and a different way to engage with the world, granting you a little experience boost by taking part in more traditional turn-based RPG combat. Once you're sufficiently overleveled for a dungeon, you can farm experience by simply striking an enemy without triggering the combat, making this an even more streamlined way to quickly gain treasures and experience. I never found them very challenging, but they seemed more intended to break up the pace, and they worked well for that purpose.

The best missions, of course, are those involving traditional tactical combat. Fire Emblem is second to none in this regard, and Fortune's Weave manages to improve on it further. The main quests always find ways to add new wrinkles to combat scenarios, forcing you to think differently and staving off the complacency that can come from having a powerful team. 

In one memorable battle, I was being targeted by a long-range attack, requiring careful movement and creative blocking while I slowly advanced. In another, I would lose if any enemy units reached a certain goal line, but their forces were so overwhelming, and reinforcements so frequent, that I quickly realized I had to prioritize cutting my way through to the one enemy unit whose defeat served as a victory condition. Sometimes I needed to keep my forces tightly packed together to take out tougher enemies, while, in others, I had to spread them terrifyingly thin to address dispersed threats. What's so satisfying about these challenges is that the game never explicitly explains how to resolve the puzzle; it just presents you with a scenario and presses you to figure out the solution. My own conclusions certainly aren't the only ones possible.

Dietrich considers his exam options

Aiding you in combat are two types of special abilities: Combat Arts and Blaze Arts. Combat Arts are available to all units as they level up and specialize in skills, letting you perform special actions at the cost of weapon durability, which can then be repaired at a Blacksmith. Blaze Arts are reserved for special characters, letting you sacrifice HP for powerful effects. Theodora, who is imbued with a magical, superpowered prosthetic arm, can grab a hunk of stone from the earth and chuck it great distances, for example, while Dietrich can teleport forward to strike down an enemy before they even see him coming, and Leda has a series of special dances that buff her allies. New Blaze Arts are offered as you take part in the quests to improve Renown, so all of the systems feed into each other nicely. 

However, all this complexity does come at a price. While the battles themselves are snappy and intuitive enough for newcomers to understand, the menu user interface is overstuffed, and at first it was hard to find certain elements. I got accustomed to it well enough after several hours, but there's just a lot going on, and I wished the UI had been easier to navigate.

With four heroes all existing concurrently, sometimes you see the same story beats repeated, but I rarely found this tiring or repetitive. Instead, it was delightful to see a similar scene recontextualized through the lens of the current character's story, adding more color and texture to their own tale by how they've interacted with others. Each of the characters also has their own entourage of close companions, and Fortune's Weave excels at making each of them likable in their own ways. It's a strong ensemble cast, even before you start recruiting a variety of distinct warriors with their own odd designs. 

Your warriors enjoy a Feast

And since this is all happening concurrently, the narratives intertwine in ways that make the whole story richer the more you engage with it. Seeing the events only from Theodora's perspective was interesting enough, but then seeing the same and other contemporaneous events from Leda's perspective filled in a fuller picture. Plus, since each story interacts with the other Flame Lords, you get a sense for the other heroes' stories even if you haven't started their actual quest. This is a narrative with criss-crossing interests and characters, so you're really meant to play through all four Flame Lords to see how all of the puzzle pieces fit together. 

Naturally, after your Flame Lord's individual story resolves, events in the world take a turn for the more dramatic on a global scale. This is very similar to the arc of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, where your chosen House then became instrumental in a massive war. This time, though, you aren't forced to pick favorites. You can play through all four Flame Lords' stories, the more the better, and each of them have a part to play in this second arc as you proceed towards the endgame against the Demon King. 

All of this is complemented by an incredible orchestral score, as evidenced by finding myself idly humming the main theme for days at a time, and the voice acting is well-performed. I made a point of playing Fortune's Weave in quiet environments where I could hear everything, because I just didn't want to miss an audio moment. And while Dagsion itself can look a little plain in places, the character designs themselves are universally gorgeous, with incredible detail and flourishes, and class designs that look great and fitting no matter how you spec your characters. The cutscenes, as well, are remarkably cinematic and help accentuate the epic scope of this story about war in an age of antiquity. Fortune's Weave is the best-looking and best-sounding Fire Emblem to date, on top of all of its other excellent traits.

Fire Emblem: Fortune's Weave is a sprawling masterpiece of a strategy RPG, building upon the successes of past Fire Emblem games with new interconnected elements, expertly designed combat puzzles, and an emphasis on flexibility and choice. Nintendo and Intelligent Systems have topped themselves, making this the new high point to beat for future entries.

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Wolverine Only Aims As High As Its Stout Hero

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A few hours into Wolverine I found myself asking, “Why did Insomniac Games make this?” There are obvious answers, of course: It has three excellent Spider-Man games under its belt; it's an opportunity to expand its Marvel Universe; and Wolverine presents ample opportunities for a brutal and bloody action game. But none of that explains why Insomniac Games, specifically, made Wolverine.

Spider-Man is an ideal fit for the studio: an energetic and dynamic hero in the hands of a team known for open-worlds that are sprawling jungle gyms, where it can let players loose with thrilling traversal mechanics and varied combat systems for crime fighting fun. Insomniac also excels at crafting narratives that are as earnest as they are dramatic--perfect for the tumultuous lives of Peter Parker and Miles Morales.

Wolverine is much less ideal of a pairing, as was evident throughout my time with the game. Insomniac doesn't make bad games and Wolverine certainly isn't one. It's a solid, cinematic, and occasionally thrilling experience that ticks all the necessary boxes for a decent action game. But it does so in a workman-like fashion and never aspires to much more than the essentials. Wolverine is an action game that serves the character well enough, but it doesn't lean into Insomniac's strengths or leverage its creativity, and the game feels unremarkable because of it.

Straying too far from who Wolverine is and how he operates would no doubt create questions around the authenticity of the adaptation, but only coloring inside the well-defined lines means never offering anything new or exciting. It turns out that the most authentic version of Wolverine, in this case, is also the embodiment of the character action genre at its plainest.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k7Nz-WyUq7o

In a world where pretty much every superhero game subscribes to the Batman: Arkham template of combat design, describing how you fight would belabor how familiar it all is. Suffice it to say: light attack, heavy attack, dodge, parry, a few special abilities, and some attribute modifiers. 

There are very few distinguishing elements of Wolverine's combat system that make it stand out. The closest it comes is a leaping attack, which allows players to launch him across distances to close the gap and begin an assault on unsuspecting enemies. It's an undeniably satisfying tool to keep up the intensity of each skirmish and ensure you're always applying pressure, but loses its luster after a couple of hours when it becomes clear that it can be employed pretty mindlessly.

The other unique element, a mechanic that represents an escalation of power and brutality as Wolverine's rage boils over, has more longevity in how drastically it shifts the dynamic of combat and amps up the satisfaction of it. As players dispatch enemies, an on-screen rage meter builds until the point where Wolverine goes berserk, putting him in a state where you can chain together executions to tear enemies apart in quick succession. In just a few seconds, Wolverine can create piles of brutally mauled bad guys, and there's a feral savagery to the whole thing that is very effective. 

It's a consistently exhilarating moment because, as well as shifting to desaturated visuals to emphasize how unstable and blinded by rage Logan is, these sequences are strong instances of synchronicity between the character and the player. As Wolverine's rage builds, the player needs to be more efficient in dispatching enemies to keep the meter climbing, and when Wolverine finally hits breaking point, the input demands on the player simplify to just pressing two buttons together to eviscerate anything in your path. It is catharsis that comes from Wolverine giving into the monster within and the player embracing that monster in tandem. 

If the appeal of Wolverine for you lies in how visceral its violence is, your virtual bloodlust will be well and truly satiated. Insomniac has spared no expense in lavishing Wolverine's finishes with copious amounts of blood and guts--his executions are exactly that in every sense of the word. The violence never strives for shock value by being grotesque in the way something like Mortal Kombat does, so it never feels gratuitous. Even when he erupts into a berserker rage, the coldness of his violence reinforces the idea that he is an efficient killing machine. Wolverine never revels in it; he just gets it done and moves on.

The main issues with Wolverine's combat are that it often feels like it lacks weight, is missing lethality up until he goes berserk, and never finds rhythm. As a result, I often felt frustrated that the game was undermining the sense of power and ferocity that I wanted to feel as Wolverine. And at the same time, the individual components of the combat doesn't have the connective tissue to create a natural flow that made me feel like I developed a mastery of Wolverine's skills.

The adamantium claws that serve as Wolverine's dealers of death and destruction often felt more like needles than blades. The feedback on each attack always felt just a little lacking, and enemies never responded to being struck in a way that made me feel empowered. Quite the opposite, in fact. I can't count the number of times that I would be mid-combo, clawing away at an enemy, and they'd suddenly ignore incoming damage to clobber me over the head with a rifle or slice me with their own blade. It came off as the game deciding it was the enemy's turn to attack because it needed to put an end to my barrage. It made me feel like an angry cat being bonked on the head to calm down.

Fortunately, the various abilities Wolverine has at his disposal feel like they pack more punch and can swing momentum in your favor. These range from a spinning claw attack that can control space and a leaping knee that interrupts enemies, to a grapple that slams enemies down so that Wolverine can mount and pummel them. There's also a spinning Psycho Crusher-like maneuver that can be chained multiple times, an all-out barrage of powerful strikes, and a recovery ability that focuses Wolverine's rage and uses it to heal, among others. All of these introduce new considerations into the combat, making it feel a little more involved and dynamic. However, since there's no real depth or connectivity to the combo system, their execution feels very rigid and disjointed. 

Everything is on a cooldown, which suggests that timing and strategy is important in how they're used, but in practice, they can be employed thoughtlessly without much consequence. Many of Spider-Man's abilities served as ways to bridge one attack sequence into another; after smacking an enemy around, he could launch them into the air, chase up, smash them back down, zip to another enemy, swing them around to hit others in the vicinity, launch them into the distance, use a web to close that distance, and continue to string physical abilities together or use gadgets to manipulate enemies to his advantage. The point being, there was an if-this-then-that flow to it that, admittedly, is made possible by the character's agility and dynamism.

Wolverine, meanwhile, feels awkward and brutish by comparison--and not in a good, character-appropriate way. Instead, using his various skills is akin to how you'd approach battles in an MMO, where you just let basic attacks fill the time in between cooldowns and then sequentially work through everything on the ability bar. Sure, you can use those abilities in a way that complements each other, but there's no real requirement or incentive to do so beyond your own initiative. 

Defensively, Wolverine suffers similar issues. Tapping the L1 button at the right moment will parry an attack, but the window--even before you use an adaptation to make it more forgiving--is pretty lenient, so it doesn't really take much skill to parry. In fact, I had a few occasions where I was surrounded by enemies all attacking me, sometimes overlapping, and I was able to survive their onslaught and take no damage by spamming the parry button with my eyes closed. That's not hyperbolic--I tested it. Parrying is another part of Wolverine's combat that is functional but unrewarding.

It may be hard to believe but all of that doesn't mean the combat is bad. It is perfectly functional, and I suspect that many people won't think too hard about how it all fits together. The cinematic brutality of it provides enough of a spectacle that everything else may not even register or matter. But as someone who wants to feel engaged and challenged, the vast majority of my time playing Wolverine felt rote. In a couple of stretches, I opted to reduce enemy health to make them easier to kill. Not because they provided any sort of challenge, but because I wasn't engaged enough to care and wanted to hit the next story beat. Being a fan of the character, experienced with intricate combat systems, and knowing how good Insomniac can do combat, this was disappointing.

However, through it all, the care and attention given to visual presentation remained one of the game's strengths. Unlike its open-world Spider-Man games, Wolverine is linear, corralling players from one combat arena to the next by way of streets, up and down elevators, through buildings, onto rooftops, and into the thick of a remote forest or two. Any deviations off the main path are slight and usually to pick up resources used for unlocking new outfits or bottles of whiskey that expand how many adaptations you can equip. 

The most evident benefit of this narrowing in scope is in the fidelity of the visuals. Wolverine is a beautiful game, both artistically and technically. I really appreciate how Insomniac is able to bring together the vibrancy of comic books and a grittier aesthetic that allows the game to feature superheroes wearing bright costumes, while also giving the game a grounded, more realistic vibe befitting of Wolverine. There's an impressive amount of detail in the character models, with Wolverine's stout and muscular physique giving him an imposing presence. When the camera gets up close, you can really see just how hairy he is (can relate), but also the gradation in his skin color, his pores, and the grime that builds up during brawls. 

Environments also have a high degree of destructability, so while I may not have always felt powerful as Wolverine when attacking enemies, watching the world around me crack, crumble, and collapse picked up some of that slack. This high level of visual fidelity pays dividends most in the larger-scale set-pieces, of which there are only a handful, but they're a lot of fun. There are battles against towering enemies (surprise, there are Sentinels) or knockdown-dragout battles against other superpowered characters.

Wolverine serves the character well enough, but doesn’t lean into Insomniac’s strengths or leverage its creativity

There are other parts of the gameplay experience that never outright excel. Everything in between the combat fits into the Uncharted-esque guided platforming mold, so you'll spend a lot of time jumping from handhold to handhold, swinging from branches and poles, or hopping across rooftops. But because Wolverine has very limited mobility and no interesting traversal mechanic to speak of beyond a big jump, the running, jumping, and climbing portions of the game often feel equally uneventful. Similarly, stealth feels like more of an afterthought than a key pillar of gameplay. Again, I know that's not Wolverine's thing. He doesn't swing from buildings like Spidey or barrel across skylines like Hulk, or sneak like Mystique, but the truth of the matter is I didn't find much to get excited about when moving around the world. The only real exceptions come in the rare high-octane escape or desperate climb for survival, in which the circumstances bring the thrills instead of anything I'm actually doing.

Ultimately, it is what it is because it's all Wolverine really has. And that point is driven home in the numerous times that Jean Grey, the ultra-powerful mutant with telepathic and telekinetic abilities, offers to simply fly herself and Logan to the top of a building or across a city, and Wolverine declines repeatedly. Even when the fate of his friends or of the world is on the line, he opts to take the long and arduous way because, I don't know, it makes his tummy hurt, or he doesn't like how it feels or some other contrived excuse. But I know that taking the quick and direct route would trivialize massive portions of the game, so instead we go through the uninteresting but inoffensive motions.

The strongest aspect of Wolverine is its narrative and character development, but even that isn't without its fair share of oddities and pacing issues. Insomniac has done a commendable job of taking touchstones from the history of Marvel and building something a little more original around them, while also trying to explore Logan from a more emotional, human perspective. Logan's story is intertwined with the increasingly threatened existence of mutants, which have fairly recently emerged. 

Although Bolivar Trask is presented as the main threat to mutantkind, the game doesn't waste any time in hinting that a bigger threat may be a little closer to home. The game takes place at a time when the X-Men haven't yet formed and, instead, Wolverine is a member of Team X, a crew also featuring Sabertooth and Mystique. Crucially, Team X was assembled by Nathaniel Essex, better known as the villain Mister Sinister in other Marvel stories. 

What begins as a mission to rescue Essex eventually leads to a battle for mutant survival against Trask and his Sentinels, and then a hunt for a mysterious artifact that could change the future of mutant and humankind forever. Along the way, relationships become strained, hidden motivations emerge, and the state of Insomniac's fledgling X-Men universe rapidly develops in some unexpected directions. There are stellar performances all around, with Liam McIntyre's take on Logan bringing more heart and charm to the character than expected thanks to writing that allows the character to be vulnerable and, on occasion, goofy. 

Krizia Bajos's Jean Grey also has an emotional depth to her that makes the time she spends with Logan meaningful for both characters. She has been finding and rescuing mutants, and has a worn-down, sometimes defeated vibe to her, but is uplifted by the community of mutants she has built around her. The game is very comfortable letting Logan and Jean have their moments of flirtation and bonding, and although it can occasionally feel rushed, the performances make the deepening connection between them believable nevertheless. 

The standout performance, however, is undoubtedly Troy Baker as Nathaniel Essex. Anyone with a bit of X-Men knowledge knows exactly where Essex's story will take him, but the journey is still compelling thanks to the performance. Baker is able to present Essex with the same kind of warmth and conviction that makes him a believable surrogate for Charles Xavier in Insomniac's version of the X-Men universe. But every scene he's in has a line delivered just manipulatively enough to keep the player on edge, waiting for the inevitable turn. The impact Essex has on those around him, especially Mystique and Sabertooth, is also part of the brilliance of his character and Baker's performance. He's able to prey on everyone's vulnerabilities and exploit their nature to his advantage. And Logan is the victim of some of the worst of it. 

The story takes its time getting the pieces in the right place, and there are certainly some pacing issues during this process. The early parts of the game are perhaps a bit too introspective and focused on Wolverine and Jean's relationship, while also including some lengthy sections chasing a macguffin around for a bit too long. But the final third of the game essentially switches from being a Wolverine story to a straight-up X-Men story. That's not a spoiler--you won't suddenly see Cyclops and Gambit appear--but the stakes will become crystal clear and the groundwork is laid for something momentous. As a longtime X-Men fan, I'm a sucker for that kind of stuff and it worked on me.

Wolverine is a difficult game to come to terms with. As I've emphasized repeatedly, there's nothing outright wrong or bad about it. It delivers an authentic, highly playable Wolverine experience. I don't regret my time with it and, in fact, I left hoping there's a sequel that makes good on what the game sets up. But at the same time, that inoffensiveness comes from the fact that it's a barebones third-person action game executed in a no-frills way, with no real surprises.

At best, it's a fun but forgettable experience that'll entertain you for a few hours. At worst, it shows that just because you can make really good superhero games with one character, that doesn't mean you can make really good super hero games with any character. Insomniac is an incredibly talented developer, but it shines with characters that allow it to flex its well-trained design muscles. Wolverine might be the best at what he does, but what he does hasn't let Insomniac's developers be the best at what they do.

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