Like everyone else, I played Journey and thought it was great. But unlike most, it didn’t change my life, reconfigure my understanding of the medium, or even make me cry. For a few years there, I thought maybe I just didn’t play it under ideal conditions and maybe replaying it later would make me connect with it on a deeper level. Well, I never got around to that and just came to the conclusion that it doesn’t have to have such a profound effect on me, and that’s fine.

I kinda forgot about my time with Journey until a year or two ago when I played Omno . This game has a very similar tone to Journey, with simple shapes and environments, no dialogue, and little resistance in it’s gameplay. I loved Omno, mainly because it took the vibe and template of Journey and added puzzles and platforming that actually required a bare minimum or problem solving. It was beautiful, and delightfully short, but there was one gameplay aspect I felt it left on the table. You gain a new traversal ability in each stage, but the game doesn’t often force you to master any of these abilities, or even use them in tandem with each other. The game is simple, and while that is a strength, it would have been cool to see it;s movement abilities emphasized more.

Sword of the Sea is exactly the kind of game I was hoping for in that scenario.

Sword of the Sea combines the ethereal yet welcoming vibe and artstyle of Journey and Abzu with satisfying traversal mechanics of something like Tony Hawk or Jet Set Radio. It’s like peanut butter and chocolate, though this is a combo I’m sure isn’t quite as intuitive to figure out because these two things initially seem diametrically opposed. The subgenre that Journey continued, and games like Ico really kicked off, are characterized by tedious movement not because these games are meant to feel bad to play, but because the movement is meant to feed into the tone of the game, just like music, visual art, and everything else. Sword of the Sea also has movement that feeds into the tone, they just managed to create a character that makes sense surfing on an ancient floating sword. It’s obvious, but it feels like a revelation.

And that revelation feels incredible. I booted the game up on a whim, only expecting to dip my toes into it, only to beat the game in one 3 hour session. Gliding, grinding, flipping, and collecting items is just so impulsively satisfying. I’ll admit it took a minute for it to click with me, but once it did, I ate it up. And the level design encourages you to treat each environment like a bit of a skate park, so to speak. As you progress the main narrative, you change to world and make the ground faster to float across, crate more bounce pads and other traversal boosts, and uncover even more collectables that you can trade in for new abilities. Exploring this world is so constantly fun to do, and the game keeps rewarding you with tangible gameplay rewards or just beautiful vistas and animations, so you keep exploring more and more. It’s an incredible feedback loop.

Now the story and characters are intentionally minimal, as is tradition with this kind of game, but I did enjoy the sparse tale that was on display. There are some clever tricks of perspective and subtle changes in animation that make the same actions you do the whole game feel narratively impacted, and I really enjoyed those moments. There are also a handful of massive set piece levels that take the same gameplay and make it feel grander than normal. The best of these is the final sequence, which is a type of sequence I didn’t quite expect to see in a game like this.

What I didn’t expect is just how game-y this game is. Many of these artsy games take pride in being more of an experience than a game, and as a result few of them have high scores, obvious collectables, or any kind of design common to other genres. Well, Sword of the Sea doesn’t seem to be ashamed to ask you to beat a high score in some score attach challenges. This game isn’t afraid to throw up a tally of collectable little bits you’ve gotten every time you pick a few up. This game isn’t afraid to just have a cool ass combat set piece, and it maintains it’s gorgeous artstyle and vibe the entire time. The game feels more like a 3D platformer like Astro Bot more than a subtle mood piece like Ico, and I think that direction was the absolute correct way to go.

When I beat Omno, I immediately wanted to go back and get it’s platinum. Well, the first time I played it was on Xbox, but I did indeed get all the achievements because I only needed one more by the end of the game. I feel the same, maybe even stronger itch to platinum Sword of the Sea, but I have so much more to do in comparison. I have a few dozen secret shells to find, even more areas to rehydrate, and at least one score attach sequence to find and complete. But instead of all of this content filling me with dread, it feels me with excitement. I had so much fun in those first 3 hours, I know I’ll continue to do so the rest of the way through. Both I and Giant Squid knows that this traversal system wouldn’t carry a 40 hour open world saga, but for 3 hours up front and maybe double that to do everything, it will surely remain fun the entire time. They really cooked with this one, can’t wait to see what Giant Squid does next, and I should definitely go back and check out Abzu and The Pathless.

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