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I laughed-alone, manically-after meeting Kite Guy. I've felt solidarity and sadness in seeing our modern conflicts echoed in set pieces that depict the cyclical nature of violence, all directed by a select few in power. Sekiro is certainly a game about overcoming challenges, and I’ve felt that from it quite often. And I got a lot from Sekiro.įeeling good about what I play and why I play it is ultimately up to me. Some might say I missed out on the intended catharsis, sidestepping the 'artist's intent.' So what? There’s nothing to preserve for the greater good in Sekiro’s design. The adrenal high, the sense of accomplishment, the themes and motifs and memories are still flowing through me. So I finish the guy off in slow motion, watch a predictably brief From ending (I got the 'good' one too) and let the credits roll. I plan on leaping off the cliff once I get cozy, and then juicing up the speed back to normal. Nothing is lostĪn hour or so in, I slow the action down by 50 percent with the intent to study Isshin's moveset. But sometimes bosses are straight up tests of endurance and reflex and difficulty for the sake of difficulty. Once you get how you're supposed to play, each stage is a cinch. Phase two, the great inversion: cautious and distant play against an otherworldly creature with uncanny, fluid movements. Phase one: matching the aggression of a big beast even if the odds feel tipped against you. Those slow burn epiphanies are one Sekiro's greatest assets.Īnd there's the ape, who teaches two different playstyles and attitudes. With a few hours of space and practice between meetings and a moveset consisting of clearly telegraphed, but swift and strange attack rhythms, the Monk feels designed to show off your own muscle memory to you. I really liked the second bout with the Corrupted Monk. Bosses are lock and key challenges that require the gradual build up of instinct and intuition in response to their particular attack patterns. Sekiro’s difficulty is much more prescriptive than the Souls games, too. The small, sad stories the conversational level design the idiosyncratic design touches. I admire FromSoft games for much more than the challenge. This isn't fun, it's just four stages of fuck-you-prove-yourself difficulty.ĭifficulty is one axis of Sekiro, not the orbital center. Sure, there's a return mechanic, but it's rarely practiced outside of boss battles until the very last stage, and even then, timing your jumps with swift lightning returns against a set of lightning attacks with different release timings-nah, I'm good. It wouldn't be a FromSoft game without a frustrating elemental damage type. The lightning attacks don't help things, which aren't too difficult to dodge after spending a few hours getting to the third phase and dying to them over and over.

Considering it takes 5-10 minutes, and more as I progress, of near perfect execution and concentration to reach a new sticking point, the point where I get a split-second opportunity to observe and practice against a new move or special attack, learning the final boss is a hell of a time sink. I can get into Isshin's 2nd and 3rd phases without the tool on occasion, but it's so easy to slip up unless I'm on the entire time.

But to stretch it out like this? Take it easy I wouldn't have reached the end of the game without it. To learn a boss requires throwing yourself at it time and time again, which works eventually. Sekiro doesn't give much opportunity for in-depth, focused practice to the player. Sekiro should've had this built in, Celeste-style, or as part of Hanbei's training set. I can adjust the speed of the game as I play it because it patches the active memory, live.