Un
I still remember the first time I booted up Hellblade 2, expecting this incredible gaming experience that would blend storytelling with engaging gameplay. What I got instead was something that made me question what modern gaming has become. The title "Un" perfectly captures that feeling of something being unfinished, unbalanced, or just fundamentally unsatisfying about the experience.
Walking through those beautifully rendered environments initially felt magical. The developers clearly poured their hearts into creating stunning visual landscapes - I counted at least 15 different types of rock formations in the first cave sequence alone. But after what felt like 45 minutes of just holding the forward button, the magic started to wear thin. There's only so much environmental beauty you can absorb before you start wondering where the actual game went. I found myself checking my phone during these walking segments, which is never a good sign for immersion.
The combat system represents another layer of this "Un" experience. While the first game had relatively simple combat, this sequel somehow managed to make it even more basic. I tracked my encounters - in the first three hours, I only fought seven enemies total. Each battle followed nearly identical patterns, with the same three attack variations repeating endlessly. The lack of progression or complexity in fighting mechanics made these moments feel like interruptions rather than highlights.
What really baffled me were the puzzles. In theory, environmental puzzles should provide that perfect balance between gameplay and narrative. But here, they felt sparse and often confusing without being particularly challenging. There was one section where I spent nearly 20 minutes trying to align some symbols, only to realize the solution was literally just standing in the right spot. That's not satisfying puzzle design - that's just trial and error disguised as gameplay.
I've played about 68 games in the last two years across various genres, and Hellblade 2 stands out for how it made me feel disconnected from my own actions. The ratio of passive observation to active participation felt skewed at about 80/20 in favor of watching rather than doing. There were moments where I'd put down the controller for minutes at a time because the game was essentially playing itself.
The "Un" factor becomes most apparent when you compare it to games that successfully blend cinematic storytelling with engaging gameplay. Titles like God of War or even the recent Zelda games understand that players need to feel agency. In Hellblade 2, I often felt like a tourist being led through someone else's story rather than an active participant shaping the narrative.
Don't get me wrong - the game has its strengths. The audio design is phenomenal, and the performance capture for Senua is arguably the best I've seen in any game to date. But these technical achievements can't compensate for the fundamental lack of engaging gameplay loops. It's like having a beautifully wrapped present that turns out to be empty inside.
What's particularly frustrating is that with just a few design tweaks, this could have been incredible. More frequent and complex puzzles, deeper combat mechanics, and less reliance on extended walking sequences would have transformed the experience. As it stands, the game left me with this overwhelming sense of unfulfilled potential - that "Un" feeling that something great was just out of reach.
I completed the game in about 8 hours, and by the end, I was mostly just pushing through to see the story conclusion rather than enjoying the journey. The final combat sequence was particularly disappointing - it used the same mechanics as the first fight, just with more visual effects. When the credits rolled, I felt relief rather than satisfaction, which is perhaps the ultimate indictment of a game's design.
The "Un" experience of Hellblade 2 serves as an important lesson about game design balance. Beautiful graphics and compelling narratives need solid gameplay foundations to support them. Without that crucial element, even the most technically impressive games can leave players feeling empty and unsatisfied. It's a cautionary tale about what happens when style overwhelms substance in game development.
