Lunacid

I bought this game a few weeks ago, and within a few days finished it. I quite like the game as a whole; the gameplay is something of a mixture between a boomer shooter, King's Field, and a game that lets you jump. The added mobility and the pared down equipment makes the game fairly simple in some ways, but in a lot of ways it feels like that complexity was mostly focused down into the weapons and spell rings. Despite how it might sound, the control over your character doesn't really impede the horror elements that Akuma Kira is known for: your character can be quite capable, but the world itself is so dangerous and unknown that for your first playthrough, you'll be constantly wondering what's around the next corner. This is assisted by the map design, and the decision of the game itself to *not* have a map--it's quite easy to get turned around and lose track of where exactly you are, and it's disorienting, but I never found it bothersome in a way that broke my verisimilitude. You only have your memory and, should you choose to turn it on, a compass to mark where you've been and what the layout of all the maps are like (unless you get out a pen and paper). The unease of never being quite sure what's around the corner, or how to deal with it, or what's after that even *if* you deal with it remains there for a long time. And even afterwards, on your second playthrough and onward, it can feel disorienting in ways that you wouldn't expect, and take you by surprise. You might forget something, or an enemy might have moved to show up in a place you haven't seen before, or you might have overestimated your own ability and gotten yourself in trouble. What I think is more important for repeat playthroughs, however, is the unending sense of mystique and wonder that lives alongside the horror and uneasy atmosphere. I haven't yet gotten tired of re-experiencing these places, knowing more about the spoken and unspoken stories that they have, which I learned on my first playthrough. In general, too, I think this sense of mystique and wonder is what elevates the game primarily; the lore and interactions with the characters are good in their own right, but I think that their penchant for reinforcing this sense is what makes them truly shine. While the game and setting is horrifying, there are many places where you feel that someone could, strangely, relax. The horror is there, the sense that these are things that shouldn't exist is there, but there's a wonder that comes from knowing how these areas connect and relate to each other, even when they're separated by being made by different societies at different times. The fact that the characters seem to find some wonder in it, too, and that comes through even in their fairly sparse dialogue enhances this--they have history, they have interest, and it's not hard to see why they feel like down here, in spite of everything, is better than up there. If I had one critique to make, however, it would relate to the final boss of the main route of the game. Spoilers ahead. [spoiler]In the battle against Sucsarius, at around the 1/4 mark of his HP, he rushes you down and grapples you. He says that you're alone, and that nobody is coming to save you, before the people from Wing's Rest come to interrupt. I think this works--you encounter those from Wing's Rest often enough outside of Wing's Rest, and they're generally likable--but I think there are a couple things that could have been tweaked to make it land better. First, I think that more incidental and/or random dialogue from everyone except Clive (who doesn't need more) would have helped, I think. It would have reinforced the idea more that you're getting to know these people and that you're all sort of comrades, in a way. Second, I think that Sucsarius' dialogue could have been made slightly different, to instead focus more on the idea that this is a dead land. Nobody lives in this place, nobody lasts in this place. There are no companions to be found, and the other one who came here with you will pass. There's no one coming to save you; there's nobody who would, even if they could. And *that's* what the interrupt is for--because indeed, even if they haven't bene with you the whole way, these people have always been here. They've supported you from the beginning, and you know them. And they stepped outside of their comfort zones to go to bat for this. I think that an approach with tweaks like these could have substantially helped that sequence, help sell the power of friendship and also bring forward some of that mysterious energy. Though, I did still quite enjoy it. It just stuck out to me as a point that could use improvement.[/spoiler] That all said, I did enjoy the endings. The true ending, though one of its primary ideas is mainly alluded to rather than gone into in detail as to what it means, works because it's playing off of that sense of mystique and the horror of the Well and what we know of the world above--[spoiler]there are things that are worthwhile in this world, but perhaps it's time to take a leap. And once you've made that leap, once you've set that wheel in motion...once again, Fallen, take up your sword and fight. The dream is over, but your efforts in it made a difference, surely, and surely now that the dream is over, you can make a difference there.[/spoiler] Ending B is great for how it elaborates on certain aspects of the lore while also [spoiler]emphasizing that seeking out something in particular at the expense of all else can lead you to exactly what you asked for, but not what you wanted, as well as causing untold amounts of harm.[/spoiler] Ending CD is a touching elaboration on the idea of the effects that [spoiler]a dream, a fantasy, a fiction[/spoiler] can have on us, [spoiler]while not diminishing the story itself, as it's very clearly delineated from the rest of the game, by doing something that doesn't really have any particular meaning in the world of the game. It's also an interesting rumination on what it means to create something, and to experience something that someone else has created.[/spoiler] Ending E is interesting in how I think it can be easily read a few different ways. [spoiler]It can be read as a statement on completionism, a question of 'and now what?' It can be read as a statement on surpassing yourself, killing your flaws to make a better you. Personally, the read I like the most is that it relates to inspiration. You've completed the game, and there's nothing more left to find in it. You just have a blank slate. But you carry the game with you, all of its spells, all of its magic. The game can't show you anything more than a blank slate, now. It can't know what's in your mind. So if you want to make something of that World of You, you have to take up a pen and start writing--because you're the only one who can tell the world what's in your head.[/spoiler] Though it's not for everyone, I do personally think that it's some of the best work that Akuma Kira has put out to date. Taking a step back from all the above, I do hope that some of the gameplay bugs are fixed up properly when the DLC releases--they aren't a significant detriment to my enjoyment, but they did get in the way enough that it was noticeable. I also imagine there are probably some parts of the gameplay system itself that could be improved while retaining what makes it special, but I'm not sure what. I feel like I would have to play through the game a few more times with different builds to be able to provide more proper constructive criticism on that front. In any case, I'm looking forward to the DLC.