Thursday, April 9, 2026

2026 Special - Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night


It's impossible for me to explain how much of an impact Shutaro Iida had on Metroidvania, but for the sake of a programming legend, I have to try. Though Castlevania: Circle of the Moon and Harmony of Dissonance were admirable efforts, it was Aria of Sorrow that felt like a true Symphony of the Night successor. Everything from Soma's movement to enemy behavior to all the subsystems and underlying mechanics was brilliantly adapted. Without a doubt, it was Iida's work as chief programmer that made Aria an all-time classic. The same can be said about the Nintendo DS trilogy. Rather than just repeat what worked on the GBA, Iida and his team created new, more ambitious systems. Part of what makes these games so magical is how seamlessly they weave their complex action and RPG elements. You could play Soma & co. as another vampire hunter that swung a weapon and jumped a lot, or you could transform them into the back-dashing army-summoning force of nature that makes the screen explode. Both are valid and incredibly well-realized. 

While I decide on what to say next, there's an itch somewhere in the back of my mind that needs a scratch. Calling these games Metroidvanias is starting to sound... wrong. I know Igavania exists. I've used it a few times myself. I just get the feeling that we as a gaming community have stuck with what's basically the lack of a better term for decades. Bloodstained and its ilk are practically a subgenre unto themselves compared to Hollow Knight, or Guacamelee! or Rabi-Ribi or countless others. Even Team Ladybug's titles like Deedlit in the Wonder Labyrinth and Blade Chimera aren't quite the same, despite featuring level-ups and rare-drops. Of course, I say all this, yet I'm unable to come up with a term of my own one, at least not one that's respectful to some of my favorite games ever made. They're dense, comfy, effortlessly juggle a hundred moving parts, and with the tragic passing of Shutaro Iida, we may never see them again. 

There's a ton to be said about Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night, but I'm going to start with a few of the little things that I love. I love Miriam's dive-kick. The way she can leap off of a candle whilst collecting its contents owns my heart. My adoration for how she summons Buers to use as stepping-stones is immeasurable. Oh, and you'd better believe I love that a significant portion of the castle is filled with enough strategically placed candles and demons for Miriam to play a "The floor is Lava" minigame whenever she wants. You know what else I love? Finding that sweet spot where Miriam gets a lot of distance with her dive-kick, while avoiding the frame-wasting crouched state that occurs upon a landing from too high. There are so many details surrounding just one aspect of our heroine that it creates an irreplaceable feeling of comfort. 

Much like the handful of vampire hunters that preceded her, Miriam is skilled in the ancient art of backstep-cancelling. It's her primary method for getting from one room of the castle to the next. Sure, she could jog to the next destination, eyes forward and all that, but what gives these games their enigmatic beauty is rapidly alternating between L1 and down presses to move at exceptional speed. Adding utmost execution to the most rudimentary of tasks is a great way to draw me into a game. My only complaint is that five minutes of back-step cancelling can be considered the equivalent to one cigarette... if a wrist could ever take up smoking. Let this be a reminder to everyone out there to do their exercises. Carpal tunnel is merciless.

What other talents does Miriam have besides a dive-kick and a (wrist-destroying) alternative to running? Ah right... she's a Shardbinder. The demons she destroys have a chance of (rather violently) bestowing their powers to her. Basically, it's the soul system from the Soma duology, but with some significant enhancements. Grabbing multiples of the same soul increases its power, while tossing the requisite crafting materials at it will improve its coverage, versatility, damage output, whatever. While there are some clear winners - such as Summon Hellhound and its ability to scorch everything for an instant 1200+ damage - I can't think of many losers. Oh, sure, Summon Chair might sound useless, but it's doing exactly what it's supposed to. 

Part of what makes shards such an effective tool is that players don't need to invest heavily to make them useable. A Flying Dagger or Shuriken is going to kick butt even if it's rank & grade are never improved. That inclination to drop everything and bring the game to a screeching half just to get some farming done doesn't materialize as often as one would expect. Then again, I'm probably the last person who can express such a thought. Nearly seven years after Bloodstained's release, I still farm demons, their rare drops, and all things in-between for as long as it takes to transform Miriam into an incredible warrior goddess. 

Though I haven't discussed it lately, I'm still a firm believer in "Making the game yours." This mantra is a perfect fit for Ritual of the Night. A Shardbinder without any shards is still a force to be reckoned with. Miriam is skilled in all sorts of weapons. Mastering the techniques hidden within them will give her even more ways to lay waste to her enemies. Gosh. I never even attempted a playthrough with just guns. It's probably because making the most of them requires special ammunition capable of exploiting weaknesses. Special, limited, ammunition that has to be crafted. Well, maybe I'll give it a shot someday. 

As far as castles go, The Hellhold really isn't bad at all. It could've been a little larger, or a mix more complex, but seriously I'm glad it's neither. Each area has the expected assortment of obstacles and beasties dotting its halls. Mainly though, I'd say that the level-designer wanted smooth pacing, with a little open-endedness. Miriam is allowed enough space to strut her stuff, or wriggle around the danger and keep moving. If I had to pick favorites, then I'd go with the Sorcery Labs. There's something about the tight corridors and emphasis on nasty traps that deserved a deeper exploration. Glacial Tomb is rather weak though. Ending the game in an ice-themed area just seems anticlimactic (the last several enemies being reskins doesn't help). 

Where Hellhold really shines is in Randomizer mode. Fantastic inclusion, by the way, especially for the console crowd who can't access mods. While players are free to set the ending conditions that work for them, I always go with "Defeat All Evil". Basically, Miriam has to explore the entire castle until she obtains Zangetsuto and Dimension Shift. This is a mission I've made significantly more complicated by choosing to have key items appear anywhere. Anyway, since traversal powers are randomized, the heroine's path through the castle can change. There's enough connective tissue between each area that players who end up with Deep Sinker instead of Double Jump still have access to nearly half of the castle. Also, any opportunity to test out a new shard combination is welcome. 

I don't discuss traditional "comfy" games on this blog, because none of them actually interest me. Instead, I look towards games that feel comforting to play, something that Bloodstained: Ritual of the Night absolutely excels at. The way Miriam's movement evolves from simply holding the d-pad in a direction to a series of arcane inputs? That's my Animal Crossing. Speeding through the castle with a maxed-out Accelerator while trying to avoid every demon is how I get my "warm fuzzies". All the little quirks that define the rarest weapons, such as the Andromeda whip's slight homing properties, create joy out of violence. Investing so much time into building the ultimate demon hunter only to start a fresh file and do it all over again is something that I've done across three different ports of this game.

Look, I don't know the first thing about programming, so take what I'm about to say with a grain of salt; write it off as the rantings of an old man even. I can't understand why anyone would use LLMs to help them code video games. Slamming together an amalgamation of stolen data and then prying out whatever is keeping the game from functioning sounds so inelegant. My unshakeable belief is that there is a mysterious beauty found in the programming of all games, good or bad. It's the artistic contributions of the often-unsung heroes of development. We're too quick to trade away our identities for the illusion of convenience. Yeah, I said illusion, because somehow this culture-destroying, world-decaying, livelihood-ruining technology isn't really doing a whole lot to make anyone's jobs easier. Actually, let me cut this rant short, because that's not what this write-up is supposed to be about.

After all of these years spent on game reviews, I still fail to recognize the achievements of the people who are able to create magic from nothing. Shutaro Iida is responsible for creating works that I've loved and cherished for over half my life, yet I never even knew his name until after he was gone. 
... I think I've said about all I can. Would you believe that my eyes are watering too much for me to continue writing? Because that's what happening right now.

Tuesday, April 7, 2026

2026 Special - Monster World IV


I probably should've reviewed Monster World IV ages ago, but it just kept slipping between the cracks. Actually, let me be frank. Up until the night before, I had never actually finished a playthrough. Whoa, seriously? "Mr. Mega Drive" couldn't scrounge up a few hours to complete one of the more significant titles in the console's library? Yeah, I guess that's what happened. Get ready, because my reasoning as to why is going to sound silly. 

...This game subverted my expectations a little too often. After Wonder Boy in Monster World, I was all set to explore new lands, visit some towns, and acquire powerful artifacts that would aid Asha's quest to rescue the four elemental spirits and become a hero. Ultimately, I led myself to believe that the game would be a 50/50 split of action and adventure, when it's clearly a 90/10. The linearly structured world-design and almost complete elimination of backtracking left me in a realm that's somehow both unfamiliar and too familiar. 


Though I tried to reach out, it never felt like there was anything to hold onto. Shortly after clearing the first couple of stages, Asha is introduced to Pepo. Again, I led myself astray thinking that the heroine's cute companion would acquire new powers as the story progressed. That... isn't really the case. Just because the blue Pepologoo eats a fruit that causes instant growth doesn't make him a floating collection of Metroidvania mechanics. If anything, his usefulness is almost entirely circumstantial to the surroundings. He solves tasks when he's needed, but the game treats him as more of a friend than a tool. In fact, he's not even around for almost a third of Asha's journey. 

Instead of finding legendary weapons and armor in the realms surrounding Rapadagna City, Asha has to rely entirely on good ol' capitalism. All equipment must be purchased. It's expensive too, dauntingly so once I realized the strength of a monster doesn't affect how much cash they're carrying. The impression I get is that due to previous locations being locked away once Asha has accomplished the necessary task, Westone didn't want to create a situation where players could miss out on essential items. To counter this, most treasure takes the form of gold bars or blue droplets. Bars are traded to the mythical benevolent billionaire for the cash necessary to buy a big equipment upgrade. Acquiring ten blue droplets raises Asha's maximum health by one. There's 150 of them, so all but the most diligent guide-users are guaranteed to miss a few. Anyway, the intention behind these collectibles is that they provide a necessary means for Asha to improve her chances of success, without creating an "all-or-nothing" approach where the player is denied the ability to defeat the final boss because they missed a shield in the Ice Pyramid or whatever. 


It's here that I find myself questioning whether I'm really in it for the journey or the destination. Years upon years of "the norm" has led me to believe that the destination is a rare weapon in a treasure chest. What does that make the journey then? Becoming a true hero and saving the world is just an excuse, a free pass into the dangerous places where nobody else is allowed, just so I can hoard all the fantastic armaments. Whether intentional or not, Monster World IV challenges a philosophy that I've resigned myself to. It has incentives for players to explore; the process is just a little more involved. The blue droplets add up over time, making the heroine a far more powerful warrior than if she had just found a sword that was rendered obsolete a couple of dungeons later. That said, buying the legendary sword will trivialize the final dungeon, but that's only made possible by the ample funds provided by the lady with the gold bar collection. The prices she'll pay for bars rises as she recognizes the threat facing the world, so keep it mind.

Since I have "lovely down-stab" written in my MW4 notes, let's get on with discussing the controls. Here's an instance where I'm 100% ecstatic that expectations were subverted. Unlike Shion, Asha walks, runs, and fights like she's serious about this world-saving business. Her every move is 100% spot-on perfect. What makes her down-stab so lovely is that it's plenty strong for cracking skulls, yet it's also not super-maneuverable. There's a real purpose in learning when to best utilize it. Pulling off a down-stab at the right time against a boss can lead to them inadvertently cornering themselves, getting jabbed all the while by the heroine's sword. This game makes a point of designing levels that feature enemies attacking from above; as fine a reason as any to put the up-stab to use.


The shield is another essential part of Asha's repertoire. Since both melee and ranged attacks can be blocked, get in the habit of pressing down when uncertain of what the next enemy will do. Positioning is also important, since a shield in the front won't protect the back or head. One of the trickier aspects of the game is that the sources of healing in each stage are unusually inconvenient. Think vending machines instead of healing fountains. If Asha's health is in a really bad state, then a trip back to town or the last save might be necessary. Memorizing which enemies drop hearts can help, but mostly it's a matter of playing carefully and defensively. Enemies aren't overly aggressive, nor are they damage sponges or hit like freight trains, but they all serve a purpose.

Monster World IV is a very lean, very focused game. Gone are the optional excursions that might've occurred once or twice in the past. Let me break it down to the basics. After the introductory opening and tutorial dungeon, there are four "main" dungeons, each of which are also broken up into two parts. Afterwards, there's a final enemy / mini-boss rush and the big bad itself. There isn't any fluff, which is a little disappointing for me. Without any fat, the portions of the game I dislike don't get enough time to fade from memory. The statue puzzles of Ice Pyramid, the flying carpet ride, and Sky Palace's conveyor belts all happen back-to-back in an almost unbroken sequence.


Puzzles aren't uncommon in the Wonder Boy & Girl universe, but I think what this entry does with its Ice Pyramid went a little too far. Basically, the pyramid is broken up into three sections. The goal of each is to acquire all five statues and then place them in the correct order. Clues to this order are made purposefully scant, so it'll take a little critical thinking to fill in the blanks. If a mistake is made, then it's no big deal. All Asha has to do is go repeat the entire section and reacquire every statue! That's an excessive punishment for a puzzle that isn't solved with a simple yes/no answer! If the player isn't already nose-deep in a guide trying to get all 150 blue droplets, then they're going to pull one up just to get the solutions. Anything's better than an instant headache. 

Conveyor belts have been a platforming staple since ancient times, but in most cases they're just a mild hurdle. Monster World IV's Sky Palace made them extra spicy, and I'm of two minds about that. I appreciate that these particular belts must be approached with utmost care. Players are required to pay attention to which direction the belts are moving in before they make the jump. I'm reminded of the final section of the Demon King's Castle in the previous game, when it becomes a series of moving & falling platforms that have to be nearly perfected in order to move on. The catch of course is that missing a jump means redoing everything. Taking that concept and distributing it across an entire dungeon is an impressive feat. The punishment for missing a jump is mostly negligible. Losing a hit-point isn't so bad when Asha has 20+ to spare. Still, with precious few opportunities to recover health, landing in spikes repeatedly will take its toll. 


I don't have to explain my reasons for disliking the flying carpet ride. It's a vehicle section. 

Even at its most aggravating, this game has an unfathomable level of charm. Everything Asha does is so... Asha! From the way she climbs ropes to how she slides across ice; there isn't a single thing she doesn't that isn't wholly unique to her. As far as least-talkative protagonists go, she's got the most personality, and there's no way this game could ever happen without her. Pepo is also fantastic. The duo's combined interactions bring a lot of life to each dungeon. It really sells the adventurous spirit when the main characters react to what's happening around them. 

Despite a handful of complaints, I'm really glad that I finally made time for this one. It's a special little game that wasn't afraid to ditch the "It has to be bigger" adage that sequels are so often forced to commit to. Westone took the last Monster World game in many unexpected directions, some that were even a little disconcerting to folks like me who claim to have played everything. In retrospect, this was the right decision. This final journey is a personal one with a lot of meaning behind it.

Sunday, April 5, 2026

2026 Special - Afterimage


When I started up Afterimage for the first time, it asked me whether I'd like to play on the Normal or Advanced difficulty. Knowing next to nothing about this Metroidvania by Maximum Entertainment, I decided on Normal, with the (honest) intention that I'd tackle the harder setting in the next playthrough. Now, at this very moment, I'm debating whether or not that was the right call. The only teeth Normal has is those found on a playful kitten. Enemies of all shapes and sizes fling mildly damaging attacks every which way, but the odds remain stacked in Renee's favor. I should've pushed myself further instead of settling for a fluffy adventure where I never had to pay much mind to the opposition. However, there is an argument that ignoring Advanced was the right call. Afterimage is already the definition of excess. Throwing in excessive damage and excessive retries might've broken my psyche, which is already a glass jar tumbling around inside a sack full of doorknobs. 

Admittedly, I'm not the same person I was 20, 10, or even 5 years ago. Morning Ketsui: Kizuna Jigoku Tachi sessions haven't been on my schedule in a long time. It's not that I don't appreciate a challenge anymore, but I have to set limits. Launching myself face first into a brick wall for hours on end doesn't feel as good as it used to. Chalk it up as another casualty of trying to survive increasingly harsh years with outstanding debt as my sole companion. Now, as easy as it might be, I can't blame myself for everything. Afterimage is one of those games that wants to have it all. It wants to be the Dark Souls x Bloodstained x Hollow Knight epic that plunges its players into a massive, interconnected world. Each of its many locales is bursting at the seams with shortcuts, secrets, and bosses. If you're on a tight budget - and who isn't in this economy - then you could certainly do a lot worse than a game that controls well and guarantees 20+ hours of playtime on a first playthrough. However, there's just so much content for the sake of it that even thinking about a second playthrough is exhausting. 


Damn if it doesn't play smooth as heck though. Take control of Renee as she attempts to solve all the problems surrounding Engardin. Apparently, the "Razing" that wiped out 99.999999999% of the world's population wasn't enough, as what little that remains is under attack from every kind of evil imaginable. There's chaos everywhere Renee turns, but at least she never has to worry about tripping over her own feet. "Controls well" is an understatement on my part. What I mean to say is that it feels like warm silk in a cold house. The heroine moves with a floatiness that's actually really satisfying and only gets better as her traversal abilities improve. Unlike, oh I don't know, Samus in Super Metroid, Renee's talent for wall-climbing isn't contingent on the player's mastery of some relatively tricky inputs. Provided it's not a wall of spikes, she can hurtle her way up as fast as the jump button is mashed. Speaking of, navigating Engardin's many obstacle courses is no sweat. Wall-jumping and air-dashing around spike-filled mini-labyrinths comes so naturally that you'd swear you've been doing it all your life (and all your past lives as well).

It won't be long until our sword-swinging heroine is introduced to an entire suite of weapons to play around with. Afterimage does a remarkable job of providing a something for every playstyle. I love swinging a greatsword while in mid-air. It's got a lot of range, perfect for clipping flying foes or slashing earthbound enemies from above. Scythes and whips are also pretty remarkable. If I had to pick a favorite, it'd be the blade. This katana got a lot of love, because as far as I can tell it received some of the most powerful and exciting techniques. Judgment Cut is a wonderful counter for those who dare to swing their weapon wildly. Its mid-air attack is also quite spectacular. Magic happens when it's coupled with the Renee's pitch-perfect mobility. Be sure to explore every area and complete every task, because the hidden weapons usually have some nice abilities that'll help players find the exact build that suits them. One that comes to mind is Scorching Judgment. Its ability to unleash devastating explosions every five or so seconds makes it a good secondary. 


Admittedly, I didn't use spells very often. There's no shortage of magic books and staves lying around, but whatever capabilities they might have were always the last thing on my mind in a pitched battle. Still, I see the value in having them available, as they can deal damage from long-range, give Renee a temporary boost, and do just about anything that suits the player's current needs. 

Engardin, dangerous as it tends to be, looks just incredible. This is a world that exudes wonder and beauty. Each location has eye-catching vistas and gobs of intricately crafted flora. The level-design tends to do it a disservice though. I believe the main issue is that while there are a ton of biomes, exploring them is handled in a way that gets predictable. The excitement of reaching a new area doesn't last as long as it should, because exploring them tends to be a rote and... "gamey" process. Expect to run into lots of walls that are fortified in only one direction, usually indicating a puzzle-platforming section is nearby. Credit where its due, most bios have one or two elements wholly unique elements, but they're so large that all the details blur together. Afterimage is also so afraid of dead-ends that it causes problems for the interconnectedness. When I'm not sure what my destination is, having a stopping point is a big help. It tells me that I should head in a different direction. Getting the wall-jump, double-jump, and dive-smash opens up close to 90% of the entire world. From a surprisingly early point, players are free to go just about anywhere, perhaps even stumbling into endgame lairs long before they're supposed to visit. The amount of freedom is as impressive as it is overwhelming.


This massive world houses quite a lot of bosses, so many in fact that killing 30 of them is only worth a couple of achievements. These battles are entertaining, but they also highlight my one issue with this game's combat. Both Renee's hurtbox and the great many hitboxes she has to avoid are a little clumsy. Something has simple as avoiding contact damage can take an uncharacteristically long time. Almost every attack is huge and a couple of frames too early. Players will adjust in time, but usually that time doesn't come until after the boss is defeated. Maybe it'll be different for you or someone else, but on my Normal playthrough, Renee never saw death. She took a lot of punishment; I mean a lot. Death, however, is kind-of essential to learning bosses, how to react to their many abilities, etc. There was a very clear adjustment period that I practically skipped, all because I didn't choose Advanced mode. 

Even knowing what I know now, I can't... or at least shouldn't wholeheartedly recommend starting with the harder difficulty. I feel this way because most of what occurs outside of boss-battles is breezy. Afterimage is not a game where every inch of progress has to be earned in a trial by fire. Renee is like the wind itself, weaving through any obstacle placed in her path. The importance of a good challenge can't be understated, but at the same time, this is a 20-hour game when everything goes right. Players are going to be exhausted if every boss is an unyielding stone wall. I don't know the exact count, but I'd wager this game has at least a Dark Souls 2 number of bosses. It's a lot to deal with under the best of circumstances. On the plus side, difficulty can be changed midgame.


Too much like the worlds that inspired it, Engardin gets a little obtuse with side-quests. I managed to stumble through most of them, but that might've been because they were intentionally designed that way. I won't complain too much, because there doesn't exist a Souls-like that I haven't used a guide for. Still, Renee's mission could've been made a little more obvious. A couple NPCs allude to the importance of memory shards, and one of the better endings is only attained by finding 13 runes, but that's the sort of information I need stapled to my forehead. Also, if a truly final dungeon exists, then I'll probably never know unless I look it up. 

Considering Afterimage is often subject to staggering discounts, there's not a good reason why it shouldn't be in as many libraries as possible. I know my review hasn't exactly been a deluge of unanimous praise, but seriously, I respect this game's dedication. It's just so big, like those games I'd dream about making when I was a kid. Engardin is a massive world that's dense with lore and characters. It's got the deserts, forests, mountains, the sea, an abandoned ghost village, and all those other wondrous or scary places a healthy imagination would travel to. Really, it's quite something to experience, even if its full potential feels unrealized.

Oh, and there's a world map too. Sheesh!

Thursday, April 2, 2026

Sega CD Look - Shining Force CD


After sleeping in for most of the day, as is my wont, I finally dragged my sad carcass out of bed. In the bathroom, while shaving the weeds that had taken root on this gruesome face, I accidentally knock over my toothbrush. Without fail, it landed brush first into a sea of hairs and Florida water. It was at this moment I stared into the mirror and mouthed out the words "Finally! Some goddamned fucking inspiration!" Though I'm unquestionably a subject deserving of endless criticism, I would rather distract myself by poking into the failings of others, especially when they're already well-documented. I'm a screwup who never learns from his mistakes, but that doesn't mean anyone else is allowed to be.

Back in ancient times, Sega was the first of several companies who tried to combat Nintendo's dominance over handheld gaming. Their hopes were binned - I mean pinned - on the Game Gear. More power! More colors! A backlight so you could actually see what's happening! That last point ended up being the handheld's undoing. It was the early 90s and LED lighting had just seen a major breakthrough, but it was already too late. Sega opted for a power-hungry fluorescent bulb, turning a handheld that could've gotten 30 or so hours of gametime out of the required six double AA batteries into one that lasted 3 to 5 hours. I'm sure Energizer and Duracell were thrilled by this battery-chugging behemoth. Everyone else... nah. 


I shouldn't have to tell you that developers had to make several concessions if they wanted to put games on the Game Gear.  If a game was too long and didn't allow for frequent passwords or the ability to save progress, then who's going to play it? Yeah, the player could just use the AC charger and sit hunched in a corner for hours, but let's be realistic here. Average people are going to be on the bus fuming because the system dying mid-game cost them a ton of progress. RPGs with save-anywhere options went a long way towards mitigating the issue. For some genres, this problem isn't so easily resolved. Any fan of Sonic! Software Planning's Shining Force series has probably experienced the pain of a freak outage ruining a battle that they've spent 30 minutes trying to complete. Knowing this, the developers of Shining Force Gaiden opted for short skirmishes with a low TUFE. 

TUFE stands for "Time Until First Encounter". If you've never heard this in Shining Force communities, it's because I made it up a minute ago. Basically, it's a measure of how long it takes the player to make contact with an enemy in a particular battle. Battles that take place on huge maps with large tracts of deserts and hills will have a higher TUFE than in the basement of some warlord's lair. Since the Gaiden games are on a platform with dreadful battery life, TUFE is very low. Shining Force CD is a remake of the first two handheld entries plus a bonus chapter, but the developers didn't implement any drastic changes to the map structure or pacing. In other words, if you're looking to try the series, but aren't quite ready to commit to the Genesis & Saturn entries, then this duology is worth checking out.


For anyone out there who might be wondering, yes, I'm familiar with this SRPG series. Let's take the wayback machine to the early 90s. Though the first Shining Force had caught my interest, strategy games were not really something I could get into. Warsong aka Langrisser was my first experience, and it was not a good one. Quality game, but its decision to put newcomers on the backfoot with an unwinnable first battle was a questionable one. Also, since both armies acted when combat was initiated, I always felt like I was doing poorly when some of my guys got killed in the scuffle. 

Much like Shining in the Darkness, Shining Force opts for the Dragon Quest approach. Experience is retained even when the main character falls and the battle is lost. If the player feels like they're struggling, they can restart battles with the Egress spell and get some more training in. More personally, I think I just really like SRPG battle systems with instant gratification and delayed consequences. When I choose to attack the enemy, I want to feel like I'm making the right decision... at least for the moment. Now, obviously I'll kick myself a little bit later when the character I just moved is double-teamed by a couple of monsters and wiped out, but I took a chance and learned why it was a mistake. I won't claim that this is the ideal way to design strategy games, but I think it's a good hook for drawing in newbies. They won't get stuck in decision-paralysis, feeling like every move is a bad idea. 


Eventually, I start putting together what works and what doesn't. My moves become more sensible, and I start making use of each unit's strengths. For example, a flying character ignores terrain, allowing them to cover more ground in less turns. However, ignoring terrain means ignoring the "Land Effect" bonus, which can increase defense by as much as 30%. Also, winged creatures boast higher evasion but are more susceptible to ranged weapons, meaning I have to be selective about when and who I attack. The idea is that I learn as I go, and the game never halts unless my tactics are completely idiotic. Besides, worst comes to worst, grinding a few extra levels can make a difference... except the subject of today's discussion is Shining Force CD.

Right, I suppose now's the time I talk about what sets this entry apart. Besides the smaller-scale and faster-paced battles, one of the most notable changes is how level-ups are implemented. Generally, levels 1-10 provide the largest stat-boosts, with levels 11-20 being slightly diminished. 21 and beyond? The chances that a character will receive any gains besides a +1 to their name are exponentially reduced. I can't say that there's no chance, because there absolutely is, it's just not feasible for someone who just wants to see this game's three stories to their conclusion. 


Less effective leveling / grinding has the knock-on effect of further limiting the player's "Force" options. The Force consists of up to 12 characters, with a handful left on the bench. While other installments are no stranger to balance issues, with several units landing somewhere between superfluous and useless, Shining Force CD's "soft-cap" ensures that players can't afford to stick with whomever they like. The Force has to be optimized. Weak links aren't allowed. This also means a larger emphasis is placed on tactics, especially if the player intends to tackle the harder difficulties. I mean, that's closer to a good thing, but what got me into this series in the first place was having more RPG features, not less.

Battles feature a solid variety of scenarios and monsters to contend with. I have to again praise how quickly these battles develop. There's always a reason to keep moving, a purpose to each location, and a strategy besides "find the leader and kill them". Book 2 is geared even more towards instant action. Several battles start with both sides within coughing distance of one another. This also means it takes less time for players to reach the point when their fortunes turned, and the battle ended in failure. It makes Shining Force 1 almost frivolous. So much of that game feels wasted leading troops around without so much as a goblin to stab.


It's not all good though. A couple of the climatic encounters can end up feeling overwhelming or gimmicky. Iom, the final boss of Book 2, has a ludicrous amount of defense. His demon breath can easily cleave 30 HP from anyone caught in its 13-square area. Even the hardiest heroes aren't going to have much more than 60 HP. This leads to a finale where everyone is thrown at Iom, single file, until the big jerk is defeated. It's made extra annoying by an endless supply of minions that have their own defense-ignoring AOEs. It's my pick for worst battle in the game. Well, maybe second worst if I had any inclination to tackle the secret battle. Fighting Iom again, plus every other boss (including the handful exclusive to Book 3) just doesn't sound like much fun. I enjoyed it in Shining Force 2, but that game has several godlike characters with incredible stats.

Altogether, I like Shining Force CD's take on the series. It's all fundamental, back-to-basic, no-nonsense game design. Maps are appropriately designed, so the 50 battles across the first three books don't require an absurd time investment to complete. You'll definitely need a guide though. Most of the secret items and every hidden character is in an unmarked location, and you can't go back to previous battles if you missed anything. But hey. It's a small price to pay for a good SRPG. 

The flashing screen effects are pretty obnoxious too. I wonder if the Mega Drive Mini 2 version fixes them.

Tuesday, March 31, 2026

Xbox Series Look - Warriors: Abyss


Over a decade grinding away in the professional critic sphere has broken my brain like a cheap vase. Nowadays, the instant I write about a game, it's placed in the "finished" cupboard and locked away for a very long time, possibly forever. I operate on the logic that since there are so many games left to review; it would be unproductive to continue playing something when I've already shared my thoughts on it with the world. When you're caught in a bear trap, sometimes you have to gnaw off a limb to escape... or something. Seriously, if I don't talk about Warriors: Abyss right this instant, it'll drain another 20 to 30 hours of my life like it was vacuuming dust off of a cheap vase.

The plot of the game is quite simple. You died, went to Hell, and a punk kid has tasked you with slaying Gouma. Gouma sits at the bottom of the Abyss, guarded by hundreds of thousands of slimy minions and some elite monsters. What follows is essentially Dynasty Warriors meets Vampire Survivors. Form an alliance of heroes from across the Tecmo-Koei universe, gather as much strength as possible in nearly 30 floors, create the ideal demon-hunting formation, and attempt to crush an evil that not even Hell wants to put up with. This roguelite is both absurdly complex and ridiculously simple. There are, let's just say, a ton of playable characters, all with their own move-sets, who learn new abilities by collecting enough emblems. When certain thresholds are met, then likeminded heroes will synergize, unlocking even more buffs that last until the end of a run. The potential combinations are too numerous for the average human to memorize. Thankfully, that punk kid (I think his name is Enma?) will gladly design an optimal formation if you ask him nicely. In-between runs, karma can be spent to obtain more characters or give them permanent boosts. This is the kind of game that prides itself on stealing time until none remains.


The moment-to-moment gameplay can be summed up as "press attack buttons while avoiding anything purple". It's as I said, ridiculously simple. What I didn't say is that it's easy. Enemies hit hard and fill the screen with violet death. Depending on the severity of the attack, the player-character can expect to lose anywhere from 10% to 66% of their health. Getting stunned or knocked down will also halt their momentum, allowing adversity to create more chaos. At the end of each area is a boss. Defeating them is just a matter of dodging and countering their attacks, then laying into them with summons when the opportunities arise. Warriors: Abyss is generally good at teaching the important mechanics and streamlining the details, leaving you to focus on the slaughter. 

Since this game utilizes both temporary and permanent upgrades, it makes shaking free from its icy grasp all the more difficult. During a run, your chosen hero's power is represented by a large number, and seeing it grow feels just as good as chugging serotonin. Warriors: Abyss constantly incentivizes experimentation via randomized recruits, and their synergies ensure that practically any formation will be strong enough to beat Gouma. Also, depending on whether or not they're "chosen", heroes might be able to earn extra karma during a run. Though you might start out just playing favorites, it won't be long until you're trying out the entire roster and getting all sorts of interesting results from the formations that are built around them. These endless possibilities are fun to play around with and help to make up for the mundanely structured campaign. I don't even mind that the same areas and bosses appear in every run, at least not anymore. Perhaps the repetition was a problem at one point, but now all I think about is how quickly my build is going to decimate everything it comes in contact with. 


Apparently, the ultimate goal is to defeat Ruinous Gouma, the true last boss. In order to reach this fiend to end all fiends, players must clear Traversal Levels 1 through 5. Higher levels mean tougher foes and better rewards. Provided you've unlocked everyone and gotten a lot of practice in, clearing the first five levels isn't going to be a huge ordeal. Traversal Level 6 however... that level is designed specifically for the maniacs who have transcended all of their best characters and maxed out cumulative levels for the best possible starting stats.

I didn't believe it myself at first. Getting through Level 6 with a far-from-optimal character is tough, but nowhere near insurmountable. It wasn't until the final bosses that I realized "Oh. I need to grind like hell to get past this, don't I?" It's one thing to be taken from full health to death in a few hits, but Gouma and the legendary warriors that precede it go a step further by being absolute units. My character & formation must've been severely underpowered, because the most they could was tickle damage. Somehow, I managed to defeat them, and my perseverance was rewarded with a visit from Ruinous Gouma.

Words can't even begin to describe how poorly my attempt at the true last boss went. First off, I'm astonished that somehow the past 25 or so hours of Warriors: Abyss still wasn't enough to prepare me for its Cave shmup of a finale. While hundreds of demonic soldiers are capable of peppering the screen with danger, it's not hard at all to stop them before they strike. Ruinous Gouma though... that bastard does whatever it wants and there's nothing I can do except dodge. Naturally, the scant moments I had to land some hits meant nothing. I was using Rachel at the time, and her machine gun might as well have been firing scented cotton balls. Even her halberd was hitting as hard as soap bubbles.


While no attempt at Ruinous Gouma is ever truly a failure, spending an hour and a half on a run only to get crushed is awfully harsh. I'll accept partial blame for not realizing I was in over my head when the bosses prior to the finale were all tanked up. Plus, I mean, it's the maniac setting. Taking on the ultimate challenge is going to stretch all things "fair & balanced" to their breaking point. Still, it would've been nice if there was a way to practice the true last boss and learn his patterns. It probably won't matter until I build a character and/or a formation capable of actually scratching them, so... meh. 

It's around this time that the realization struck. If I don't give myself an out, I'll sink even more sleepless nights in this monstrously addictive game. Warriors: Abyss is the kind of roguelite that appeals to me. It combines multiple things I love (The grind, Omega Force, random synergies, etc.) to create a time devourer that not even Serge and his friends could stop. The satisfying gameplay loop and easy-to-engage-with design make repeatedly slaying a thousand or so baddies a minute even more compelling than it sounds.

Still, I've got to move on. There are so many games that need reviewing.

Monday, March 30, 2026

Xbox Series Look - Air Twister


For a very brief period, this review blog actually had scores. It wasn't exactly Metacritic-friendly though, since it was divided into a Game Rating and My Rating. As one might guess, the first score was determined by how successful the game was at... being a game. Are the controls good? Is there a lot of replay-value? All of the standard qualities a person would look for in an interactive product. My rating was a little more nebulous. Did the game's themes resonate with me? Was I able to connect with its atmosphere and unique ideas? Basically, it's rating all those things that make a video game more than just somebody hopping around and shooting things. A couple of titles that immediately come to mind are Deadly Premonition and Drakengard. Mediocre, sometimes poor by "objective" measures, but I love and cherish them. Like any piece of art, an unforgettable experience carries much more weight than mechanical proficiency. If I were to give a My Rating to Air Twister, it'd easily be a 10 out of 5. 

There once was a Bubble, and everything was good. Along came a Needle, and now everything is bad. Princess Arch, member of the Royal Family, heir to the almighty Air Twister powers, lover of mushrooms, has taken it upon herself to destroy all of the Needles and restore Queen Bubble. Put those arcade skills to the test across 12 stages of shoot 'em up action. Enemies will approach in various formations. Shoot them down quickly with blaster bolts or lock-on shots. Any that are still floating are liable to counterattack, so be ready to dodge at all times. Arch has a health meter that replenishes slightly with every cleared stage, but stray projectiles will eat away at it and then some if left un-dodged. The most severe attacks will carve huge chunks out of the heroine. 


Air Twister is basically Space Harrier from an alternate timeline or another dimension. It's a creation not of this world, the fever dream that didn't disappear, with an aesthetic that at first glance wouldn't look out of place in Red Hot Chili Peppers' Californication music video. Disparate ideas and themes are slammed together to form realms that are transformative and awfully charming. Honestly, I was sucked in moments after starting the game. It's got a wonderful weirdness to it that's intoxicating. A long time ago, back when Walt Disney World had an arcade*, I spent an unnatural amount of time staring at the attract screen for Sega's Ocean Hunter. Everything from the art-style to the female protagonist's hair fascinated the hell out of me. Arch and the world surrounding her carries a similar vibe. The sci-fi and fantasy elements are given a flair that dances gracefully upon a thin wire above the uncanny valley. For lack of any better descriptions, I'll just say that it's Prog as fuck, like some Peter Gabriel-era Genesis albums got in a shoot-out. 

The tangential relation that this game shares with its 1985 forebear extends to how it's played, as well. More pointedly, you'll suffer quite a bit if you rely purely on reflexes and zip all around the screen. When an enemy fires a projectile, there is an extremely brief moment where it hangs in the air, almost like it's waiting for Arch to make the first move. Basically, these bullets are predicting where they think the heroine will go. Space Harrier is more straightforward with a "if you're not moving, you're dying" mindset. Here, you have to think a second ahead and lead enemy fire astray. It'll take a little while to get used to. Given enough practice, you'll develop a sixth sense for it. 


If you're intent on unlocking everything in Air Twister, then you're guaranteed to get a ton of practice. Enemies drop stars when they're destroyed. This is the currency used in Adventure Field to obtain numerous special items. A substantial celestial investment will turn Arch into a force of nature. One of the earliest weapons she can obtain has a charged shot that'll instantly eradicate all onscreen enemies. Purists need not worry, because these overpowered weapons and other upgrades can't be taken into Arcade Mode. Enemy patterns are also the same in every playthrough, so even if your only concern is acquiring stars, you'll unconsciously memorize everything. Inevitably, the muscle memory will stick, and you might go from "I need the screen-clearing gun to survive." to "I need something harder than the 1 Hit = Death difficulty." 

What takes Air Twister from solid to spectacular is its music. Yu Suzuki commissioned Valensia for the soundtrack, and this could very well go down as the best decision of all time. Every song choice adds delicious atmosphere to the onscreen action. I'd even go so far to say that they're intertwined like the chains of infinity, almost as if this was the video game adaptation of a concept album. Granted, a number of tracks are re-recordings from Valencia's previous albums, but they still work astonishingly well, and the handful of exclusives are just perfection. 

Most important of all, this game embraces all the uncommon things. I love how confidently it strides into the surreal and strange. The melee attacks a few bosses use look like special effects from a 70s music video, and it's just... beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.


*Maybe Walt Disney World still has an arcade. I haven't been there in almost 25 years.

Wednesday, March 25, 2026

Sega Genesis Look - ToeJam & Earl


I can't understand why I've been struggling so hard on a ToeJam & Earl review. This is one of the most relatable video games out there. Who hasn't wished they could find the pieces of their broken spaceship and get the funk off of Earth? Knowing myself though, I'd crash into another asteroid and end up right back on the motherfucker. Apologies to all the fellow earthlings out there, but this planet is indeed a motherfucker. So much wonder and beauty that we're destroying in the pursuit of an endless stream of fake shit. Perhaps that's what makes writing this review so difficult. The worst our funkotronian duo ever had to deal with was soul-sucking suburbia. They played easy mode while the rest of us are stuck in Lunatic. Still, I'd be lying if I said that I don't appreciate the quaint vibes that emanate from this Sega Genesis classic.

Back in 1991, there wasn't much of a roguelike formula to shake up, but that didn't stop ToeJam & Earl from taking the genre in otherworldly directions. The goal is simple enough. Explore 25 randomized floors of increasing difficulty while hunting down the 10 pieces of the Rapmaster Rocketship. Each floor consists of rooms separated by hallways. These rooms contain various interactions that help or hinder the aliens' chances of getting home. What sets this game apart from so many others is that there are no walls, creating new opportunities and obstacles. If there's something that you missed on a previous floor, then it's just a short hop (and a long fall) off the nearest ledge. With speedy or springy shoes, one could jump a chasm to find a shortcut or escape danger. However, as anyone familiar with the game will attest, there are few things more discouraging than getting swept up by a cyclone and deposited into the void. 


On Earth, there are three kinds of people: the kind that want your money, the kind that want you dead, and Santa Claus. Defending oneself from hostiles isn't easy when there aren't any swords or phaser rifles. There are, however, no shortage of presents lying around. If the situation looks grim, then crack open a lovingly wrapped package and see what happens. You might be gifted a temporary boon like Icarus wings, earthling-eliminating tomatoes, or those shoes I mentioned a second ago. Other effects are instantaneous, like the aptly named Unfall, which undoes that last time you inadvertently fell off the edge of the world. In truly random fashion, not all of them are winners. Some guy dressed like a carrot identifies presents... for a price, but smart players will learn to live with it. The only thing more discouraging than getting tossed away by a cyclone is cracking open a Total Bummer and watching ToeJam and/or Earl's health evaporate.

Once you get a handle on the basics, you'll find that ToeJam & Earl is mostly laidback and kind-of relaxing. The spacious floors and relatively slow walking speed create a chill atmosphere. Unlike its 2019 successor Back in the Groove - which I think very highly of btw - there aren't dozens of objects to interact with or minigames to play for additional goodies. It's just you and your alien buds out for a walk, and sometimes there's a crazy earthling causing trouble. I don't want to say that nothing happens early on, because it's always important to load up on presents and other essentials for the trials ahead, but this game takes a lot longer than a minute to get going. 


While later floors ramp up the intensity, the pacing remains about the same. Without presents, all the funky extraterrestrials have is their own two (or three) legs. If they're being chased by a maniac, then it's going to take some skillful maneuvering to survive. Methodical is definitely the word of the day. You can't just move in one direction and hope for the best. In the case of cyclones, sometimes the best plan is to step aside and away from its path. The movement in this game is actually really good. It's slow, but flexible enough to allow players to get away from most dangers. 

The last third of this spaceship scavenger hunt is where the real nightmares come out to play. Boogiemen are everywhere. Dealing with waves of these ghouls for several floors is not an uncommon occurrence. I suppose it could be worse, because even with their staggering numbers, I'd rather put up with them than rampaging ice cream trucks or lawnmower men. ToeJam & Earl are too funky for invulnerability frames, so certain earthlings will juggle them into oblivion if they get close. It sucks, but I can't get too mad about it. The most dangerous foes don't show up too often, so careful players should have a stock of spare lives to fall back on in case the worst happens.


Still, this is as far from a modern roguelike as I can imagine. There isn't "excitement around every corner", and the slow-burn progression ensures that it'll be quite some time before the threat of imminent death becomes real. Shoot, this isn't really a classic roguelike either, because nobody is getting wiped out by a freak accident or an endgame monstrosity appearing from out of nowhere. And... really, it's awfully hard to get cornered in a world where walls don't exist. Ultimately, I enjoy ToeJam & Earl for all the ways it eschews genre standards. Having multiple lives instead of just one is huge. 

The singular truth is that this game is on a very, very short list of roguelikes that I'd ever purposefully come back to. I've played quite a few over the years, but that's part of being a game reviewer. Choice is a luxury. Closer to the point, games that want to see me dead, my stuff taken away, and my soul tossed in the bin like it never existed just bum me out. I got enough shit to worry about. Tossing the feeling of always being one step away from losing everything onto the pile is too much. 

Alright, I'm rambling now. Let's shut it down until next time.