Review of Xenoblade Chronicles 3: darker, louder

These days, we almost always know what to expect when we watch a video game. Upon seeing The Last of Us, it becomes evident that not a single character will be having fun. You can tell that Red Dead Redemption will have a minimum of seven cowboys just by looking at it. You figure Cyberpunk 2077 might manage around seventeen allusions to Bladerunner. You can sense that in almost every video game by looking at it; the way things are presented makes them obvious.

When you view Xenoblade Chronicles 3, what thoughts go through your mind? JRPG? Cartoons? accents from Britain? While Persona's gameplay is somewhat similar to that of Xenoblade, it's still not quite the same as a JRPG. The plot of Opus: Echo of Starsong is somewhat anime, but it's not at all like Xenoblade. Not only is Fable unexpectedly the most British game on this ridiculous list, but it's also the most similar to Xenoblade, albeit not by much. What then is Xenoblade? It's Final Fantasy, then. However, it's not. Allow me to clarify. Xenoblade is loud and by itself. It becomes more distinct and louder with each repeat. After a hundred hours, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is the most unwaveringly confident statement in the history of the franchise, delivering exactly what it promises to provide. Insofar as it takes all the elements that make the series unique and amplifies them, darkens them, and twists the contrast knob to the point where all the colors are inverted, it's an ideal videogame because your brain corrects them nonetheless. It fulfills its desires.

Nevertheless, that won't cut it with my editor, so it's time to do my laundry (i.e., tidy up my mess and make it into something that someone would truly want to wear—my editor is the father who tells me, "You can't go out dressed like that young lady," and my words are the clothes). Alright, let's get started. It's going to be a long one, folks, so better Clockwork Orange your eyes.

Start by listening to the song up top. What does the music of the flute convey to you? A hint of sorrow or sadness? Some hesitant, wide-eyed curiosity? It is, in fact, an ideal representation of Xenoblade Chronicles 3 as a whole.

The essence of the game is summed up in everything the flute says: amazement and grief. The flute is such a great match for this game that it raises the issue of whether the tone of the game forced the flute's inclusion or whether the flute affected it.

Either way, this combination of gloom and hopefulness is what makes Xenoblade Chronicles 3 so successful. It's much more depressing than anything in the series before it, which lets the sincerity of the game come through without being overshadowed by the less somber themes that the earlier games sometimes overdid.

This is established right on as well, because the plot revolves around the warring groups Keves and Agnus, whose troops have a ten-year lifespan and battle to power their own flame clocks by using the corpses of their foes as fuel. They are kept, in a sense, energized by this flame clock; they become less vivacious or tired when it runs out.

Our characters first appear to us in a serene past, a city plaza crowded with kids, or a planet rising enormous in the sky. Though everything seems gloomy, at least nobody is perishing.

However, when we arrive to the present, they are engaged in combat. Off-seer Noah sends the enemy's spirits forward by playing tunes on his flute. To the dismay of his coworkers, he does this for a deceased friend or enemy. Two characters stand out: Eunie, a healer with small wings on her head, and Lanz, a muscularhead with a heart. They are all Keves' troops.

Mio, a cat-eared off-seer with a few months remaining on each of her 10 terms, is on the opposite side. Sena, a small but tenacious optimist with a hammer, and Taion, a strategist who comes out as cynical but would say it's pragmatism, stand behind her. They are all Agnus's troops.

They encounter one other as adversaries trying to stop an odd caravan. A wrinkled guy on the convoy—his wrinkles startling these ephemeral soldiers—activates a large egg, enabling our heroes to transform into more powerful forms and aiding them in defeating the massive Moebius monster. "Oi oi" is the monster's first words to us, and the game is more proud of its British heritage than before.

They became buddies as a result of the monster marking them as Ouroboros, the creature that would destroy everything, or something similar. This implies that Agnus and Keves are pursuing them. The wrinkled guy has only indicated one path for them to go, leaving them with nowhere else to go. He directs them to approach the foot of a massive sword that is piercing the far terrain. To a location known as Sword March.

To put it simply, the game's beginning is the travel to the sword location. You're learning everything along the way, whether it's via brand-new lessons, side missions, and people, or just the expanding knowledge of this sinister world—it may take up to forty hours. As you approach closer, you learn more and more, and the world-building is intricately woven into everything you see and do.

However, this story's beauty lies in the telling, which is a significant improvement over earlier series installments. Every cutscene has a touch of cinema, whether it's the sweeping soundtrack that rises behind a heartbreaking scene, the careful usage of flashbacks, or the camera angle selection. Not only is the subject matter darker than previous works, but the presentation is also much superior. It exudes flair in abundance.

A gun dropping from a dead soldier's hand, the close-up eyes of a menacing villain, or the distant screams of a fallen friend are some examples of the shots that follow an item as it travels through the air. In each cutscene, the camera may rotate, twirl, and loop with a purpose. Although Xenoblade has always presented itself with a cinematic flare, this is a whole other level. Every second is meticulously crafted.

As a result, the six central characters grow in a very fascinating manner. Even though they may be trying to alter the world, they show a great deal of care and consideration in how they express their worries and hopes, as well as their covert scorn or divergent interests. Naturally, the way the larger story changes and progresses is also breathtaking. Everything is darker and louder now.

Not that there isn't any sense of humor. Instead, the humor in this game is more acute and contextualized. Even while there are some campy, comic moments, they are well handled and meant to be charming, so they never seem abrupt. The language is another aspect that seems more liberated, with various characters using slang, catchphrases, and curse words in unique ways. The translators seem to have enjoyed themselves much while working on it.

The gaming itself comes next. The realm of Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is the most opulent yet in the series. It may perhaps be the Nintendo Switch's most amazing environment. Everything is enormous—from the monsters to the mountains—and is emphasized by vivid hues, odd constructions, and seemingly limitless stretches of breathtaking beauty.

However, this awe is still paired with the distinct sorrow of the game. When troops are engaged in combat across various landscapes, for instance, you have the option to back one side or the other in exchange for a negligible reward. Really, all they do is reaffirm the never-ending war.

Then there are the decomposing bodies of troops that must be sent away. Our off-seers play a heartbreaking melody on their flute in these moments of quiet beauty, where the HUD vanishes and tiny droplets of light float upwards before their body dissipates. These moments offer little in the way of actual value, just an affinity bonus with the colony they're from. Everything contributes to this somber new tone.

The world's diversity is what makes it so successful. There are wide-open plateaus, moist, deep caverns, and snow-capped mountain passes that may be reached from one enormous desert. It's never too long to be stuck in one place. The game enables you search for new objects to look at.

But there are more than simply landscapes—interiors are also well designed. There are vast hangars, intricate tube networks, and military installations that provide a whole distinct ambience. In essence, some of them are dungeons. I really like the Keves Castle dungeon; it's winding and maze-like, somewhat of like Tokyo Mirage Sessions or Shin Megami Tensei.

Afterwards, there are the cities and colonies. Nothing has changed here, here is where the Xenoblade series often excels (recall Goldmouth or Torigoth from XC2? Those locations are brilliantly crafted). In large-scale role-playing games, city construction is sometimes overlooked and underutilized. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 has some of the greatest and most sincere architectural design available.

There is a good deal to do in these areas if you want to stay longer. Little trinkets, navigation problems, and plenty of creatures to fend off are all present. Even more may be found via a variety of side missions, the most of which are brief, goal-oriented activities that assist one of the several colonies you liberate along your travels.

While not very spectacular, these side-quests provide insight into the various colonies and their characteristics. Completing quests also awards you with affinity perks that will aid you in your travels, such as enhanced movement speed and rarer opponent loot. Smaller side missions are only a means to an end for smaller storylines to be told; although they're seldom very engaging from a gameplay perspective, the situations they lead to are often rather engaging.

But there's more on the side; a whole new kind of side-quest is introduced by the new hero mechanic. You may add heroes to your squad as a seventh party member, but you must first finish their mission in order to do so. The major reason these missions are so great is because each character has a distinct personality. It's the first time side missions in the series have ever been this good.

While one mission can take you inside a colony to spend time with its leader and learn about the subtleties of their leadership style, another might need you to fight your way past many levels of enemies in just to reach the colony in the first place. The quest's narrative is enriched by the mission's mechanical variations, creating a cohesive whole.

The core principles of Xenoblade Chronicles 3 may be summed up in a single hero quest. The ultimate goal of this mission, like most of others, is to release a colony from the bonds of the flame clock and the vicious cycle of death that its members are trapped in. Thus far, so typical.

On the other hand, this colony has been disconnected. They consider it a useless piece in their chess game, therefore their rulers hardly make the trip. The colony people are thus barely surviving, and their flame clock is almost entirely depleted. They too have a death pact, or something quite similar to it: raise your voice, lower your gaze.

The villagers start to see some optimism as you liberate the colony. Since they're used to receiving little supplies from above, they're concerned. However, they reverse course and resolve to cultivate their own food. They learn about irrigation and till their land. They grab hold of their freedom. Every inch of XC3 is covered with rivulets that carry that message. This is a game with love and spirit.

Nevertheless, these heroes may sometimes provide you additional traversal skills as well, enabling you to do tasks like sliding along ropes that are strung across cracks or scaling leafy walls. You may then visit regions that were previously unavailable thanks to these talents. You may even unlock additional tasks with some of them. It isn't a major Metroidvania redesign, but it is a useful addition that gives some value to backtracking.

And then there's the fighting. There are seven heroes in all, with the ability to swap them out at any time, your six primary party members, and a variety of layering techniques. It essentially combines the fighting mechanics from the previous two main series games.

As you wait for the arts to charge, you begin with auto-attacks, which are simple movements. More potent strikes with status effects are the arts. Similar to the original game, these arts charge warriors of Keves by waiting for them to full up. Similar to the second, these arts charge up by auto-attacking for Agnus warriors. This has an instantly fascinating potential meaning, but I'll let you think about it for yourself.

When used properly, the arts amplify their power. Depending on your class, use the arts appropriately. There are six primary classes and then a special class for each hero (there are many heroes, hence there are many classes). The proper mix of classes' various roles—attacker, defender, and healer—is essential.

Your characters may advance through 10 ranks in each class. After mastering a class, you may combine the arts from that class with another to create new combinations. These are masterworks that you may blend with your own creations to create fusion artworks. Your degree of interlink is raised when you practice fusion arts.

Your characters' interlink levels indicate their potential strength when they unite to create their Ouroboros form, which is akin to a bizarre Bionicle-style Power Ranger morphing system and has its own distinct skills and powers. However, you can only stay in this form for a certain period of time.

Your chain attack meter will then be charged if you use each of these systems correctly. By requiring you to link moves together to fill up another meter that doubles your damage, chain attacks convert the action fight into a one-sided turn-based format. Chain strikes vary in behavior and have the potential to cause a lot of damage based on certain factors related to your Ouroboros interlink level.

The purpose of this concise exposition on fighting is to clarify one point: all systems are interdependent. When you comprehend how this maze of interconnected systems works, the enchantment of the game's battles becomes apparent. You may enter a sublime state of flow as you advance up the hierarchy of systems, starting with the auto-attacks at the bottom and working your way up to the chain attacks at the top.

Chain strikes by themselves may have a mystical quality, as the more you play, the more obvious it is how to generate effective chains. During a chain assault, the game doesn't tell you exactly what it wants from you, but you figure it out on your own, which gives you the impression that you did.

Arts may be canceled into one another in the meantime. This implies that your attacks will strike harder and fill up different meters faster if you trigger an art just as the previous one does. Cancelling arts provides wonderful support for this sense of flow.

Despite this, I often use the auto-battle feature in the overworld when I'm not playing through lengthy narrative bits. That's simply because you don't always get to take full use of these fighting mechanisms in those shorter bouts. The big boss fights are when it truly shines, giving you the chance to demonstrate how well you understand these concepts and how they work together.

The amount of material in this enormous pile increases as you go through the admin menus. Each character has their own Ouroboros skill tree, in addition to a variety of interchangeable talents, jewels, and accessories to enhance various aspects of their abilities. This is almost infinitely micromanageable and dense. To get the most out of it, you really have to want to put your all into it. The more hesitant player won't get nearly as much in Xenoblade Chronicles 3, in my opinion, as a committed one. In fact, it could drive them away.

The presentation is where everyone gets rewarded, however. As I've remarked before, the world is undoubtedly vast and beautiful. Nonetheless, the series' music also advances. In addition to Yasunori Mitsuda's trademark heartbreaking piano and intense guitar, there are additional components that contribute to a darker, more apocalyptic tone.

The game's overall sci-fi vibe is enhanced by bubbling synthesizers and fast-paced percussion rhythms that sound like the soundtrack of an exuberant Bladerunner movie. Indeed, Xenoblade Chronicles X has that, but compared to the distant, bleak future of XC3, the other two primary games seem considerably more like fantasy territories. This seems purposeful for narrative reasons that are better kept under wraps for the time being; it's not merely a tone shift.

Fortunately, strong performance supports this whole presentation. The framerate was flawless, and the docked mode's picture is very detailed. Even if the portable version isn't as good, it still appears better than it should, especially when you consider the large stretches of land, a variety of animals, and far-off obelisks that are shown.

Before we wrap up, there are a few minor details I'd like to point out: a) the fonts are large and attractive; b) the story is still genuinely insane—even though it's darker; c) the character designs are exquisite—even minor characters look prettier than Rex; d) I know I've already mentioned the music, but wow, it's so good; e) the line gaps between voiced lines of dialogue are reasonable—they're still too long, but only just, whereas in previous games, the line-gaps were big enough for the two of us, if you know what I mean; f) the title screen makes me want to cry; g) there are people with cat ears and people with horns, and I adore them.

Even with all of that praise, there are a few minor things that bother me: a) some menu items make no sense; for example, you can mark all new items in your inventory as "seen" to remove the notification dot; however, you can't do the same with tips, so if you're annoyed by notification dots, you'll have to manually scroll through them all; b) some subtitles contain words like "gasp" or "wailing cry," which is helpful for accessibility, but should be optional! A sorrowful scream from the voice actor is followed by what seems like a split-second spoiler; c) bigger attack animations no longer have QTEs as in XC2, so you simply watch them play out—this is dull, please put back the QTEs!

In conclusion, I like Xenoblade Chronicles 3, even if game has characters with horns and cat ears. In addition, it is very beautiful, has great characters, interesting fighting, and is presented with more prestige than is reasonable. There's something more going on here, even if there isn't any incredible rope physics that took a million hours to create. Something that I'm not quite able to describe further than I have. Something unique.

It simply envelops you as the environment evolves, the characters grow, the fighting intensifies, the colonies alter, the jokes get less frequent, the noise level rises, and the conclusion draws near. This universe, its proper nouns, its absurdity—its melancholy has been pounded down to its deepest level and its highs have been driven to their loudest peaks.

That, I believe, is the only thing Xenoblade Chronicles 3 taught me. It's such an incredibly uncontainable sensation to witness a series double down and still seem more accessible than ever—especially for one that can bring back so many people because of its unique quirks. The tale is longer and wilder, the characters are more nuanced and intimate, and the mood is a mixture of ludicrous, humorous, and gloomy. The battle is also more intricate. Making the decision to become more authentic and enhance its own value is a positive thing. That warms my heart, I think.

See our guides on Xenoblade Chronicles 3 characters, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 heroes, and Xenoblade Chronicles timeline for additional information if you're considering playing the game.