Since the earliest cave paintings, human beings have used art to recreate the world around us. But while the painter’s limit is imagination, the photographer can only capture what actually exists. They can use their tools to increase exposure, change framing, or apply filters, but they cannot create something entirely new; only preserve a moment in time. It’s telling that Fatal Frame II: Crimson Butterfly is getting its moment now. A game about twin sisters haunted by the past with a camera as their only salvation, Crimson Butterfly Remake is similarly bound to its predecessor while also being charged with modernizing it. In many ways, it succeeds. I cannot deny that I enjoyed revisiting Minakami Village, but I also fear that constantly bending a knee to the modern and adding more complex mechanics has added an artificiality that is at odds with the captivating story it tells. By the time I reached the end of my 20-hour journey, I was deeply satisfied with and impressed by this remake, as well as incredibly conflicted about that feeling.

Before I continue, let me say this: I consider the original Crimson Butterfly – not Silent Hill 2, not Eternal Darkness, not pick-your-Resident-Evil, not any modern horror game – to be both the greatest and most terrifying horror game ever made. But any artist, no matter how skilled, risks tarnishing a great work by revisiting it. This is especially true in video games, where remakes seek to supplant and replace the original, trading increased visual fidelity and “modern” (read: Better. Always better. No one has ever used this term when speaking about a game and meant “worse”) design tropes for a piece of the original’s soul. We’ve seen this story countless times, from a Mass Effect remaster that dilutes the impact of Sovereign’s arrival on Eden Prime to a remake of Demon’s Souls that is visually remarkable but butchers the atmosphere of the original. I would like to tell you that Crimson Butterfly Remake does not fall prey to these traps, that it skirts them effortlessly. But I can’t – though that doesn’t mean what’s here isn’t an admirable attempt.

Crimson Butterfly Remake follows the same setup as the original. Twin sisters Mio and Mayu are visiting a stream where they used to play as children because the entire area will soon be flooded by the construction of a dam. As they reminisce, Mayu catches sight of a crimson butterfly that draws her deeper into the forest. Mio pursues, quickly gets lost, and the two eventually reunite on a hill overlooking a lost village said to have disappeared during a festival. The path they took is gone. There is no way back. With no other options, they descend into a village where the ghosts of the past still linger. Mio and Mayu’s only defense is a strange camera – the Camera Obscura – that seems to be able to exorcise them. Their goal is simple: escape. But that will mean learning Minakami Village’s secrets, and why they were called here to begin with.

I don’t want to say more because Crimson Butterfly’s story is remarkable, and developer Team Ninja has done an excellent job of expanding it. As you venture deeper into the village, you learn about the dark nature of the festival and the unique role twins, often twin girls, played in it. Crimson Butterfly is, to its credit, a quiet game. Cutscenes are fairly rare and Mio does not incessantly chatter about what’s happening to her or about the items she picks up. Instead, you’ll learn about the story through diaries, watching ghosts follow the paths they traveled in life, and by listening to their voices, preserved in the stones their spirits left behind. You’ll learn about the people who lived here, what happened during that festival, and the fates that befell those who, like Mio and Mayu, were called to Minakami Village. Most of the expansion comes in the form of new locations and side stories that trace the paths of supporting characters, and it’s all integrated seamlessly. If I didn’t know these things weren't in the original, I would not have guessed, and they add a great deal to Crimson Butterfly’s story.

Minakami Village itself is a marvel of design, dripping with atmosphere. It’s a small place with few roads and fewer houses. But it’s dense, and it changes. You’ll revisit these roads, these houses, and each time, the experience will be different. When I first entered Osaka House, I was afraid and wary; later, it was like seeing an old friend. I became intimately familiar with those rooms, but I could never let my guard down while walking them. Kurosawa House, on the other hand, was terrifying no matter how many times I walked its sprawling halls. Whenever I passed through its doors, I felt myself tense up.

What I admire most about Crimson Butterfly Remake is how little it holds your hand. While there are objective markers to guide you around the village between story beats and crimson butterflies sometimes light the way forward, once you enter a house, all bets are off. If you need to go to a room with an altar, for instance, it is up to you to find that room. If you’re following a specter, you must use the camera to trace their path. If you are completing a side story, it is up to you to read the diary left behind and figure out where to go next. Crimson Butterfly Remake will give you the clues you need, but you’ll still have to make the journey yourself.

The Fatal Frame series is terrifying, but its horror is subtle – less an exercise in jump scares, and more one in unrelenting tension. When you pick up an item, Mio will crouch and extend her hand slowly. Oftentimes, nothing will happen. But sometimes, a ghost will appear and grab you. Each time she slides open a door, an angry spirit might be on the other side. Walk down a road, and you might stumble across a ghost or run into a roving patrol searching for twins who escaped on the night of the ritual. Sometimes, the spirits will be there, visible. Sometimes, they will simply appear.

Combat in Crimson Butterfly Remake isn’t rare, per se, but it’s also not frequent. You’ll spend much of your time exploring the village, navigating houses, snapping photos of lingering spirits and twin dolls scattered throughout the village, and solving puzzles. But every time you open a door or reach for an item, you are vulnerable. You may pull your hand away or slam a door shut in time, but they will still be there, and it won’t ease how you feel the next time. Often, those spirits are specters, condemned to retrace the paths they walked in life, only visible long enough to snap a picture if you’re quick and ready. (Change film, and you might miss them.) But sometimes, they are hostile. In the village, you can often avoid ghosts by crouching, hiding, or simply running away, which is useful against groups or when you’re not looking for a fight. But when you’re locked in a house and the doors are sealed shut, you’ll have to defend yourself with the Camera Obscura.

Your camera can exorcise ghosts. The better the picture, the more damage the shot will do. A shot that is in focus and captures a spirit’s face will be far more effective than one that captures its back. But the most effective shots are Fatal Frames, which require you to wait until a spirit attacks and the light atop the Camera Obscure flashes red. Time it right, and you’ll stagger the wraith, deal heavy damage, and replenish Mio’s Willpower, a new addition that allows her to use Special Shots (some stun, some slow, and so on) and is lost when Mio runs or a ghost strikes her. Lose all of it and Mio will be knocked to the ground and vulnerable. If a ghost attacks you while you’re down, you’ll have to use the camera to get it off. Miss your shot, and you’ll take a large amount of damage. I’m mixed on Willpower as a concept – I didn’t use Special Shots often, instead saving Willpower for when I needed to sprint – but I did appreciate it as an additional obstacle to navigate during combat.

Then there are Shutter Chances, which occur when a wraith’s health is depleted past a certain point. Snap a picture during one, and a ghost will be left defenseless for a single, high damage shot. Time a Fatal Frame with a Shutter Chance, and you’ll enter Fatal Time, allowing you to take multiple shots at once. Better pictures also reward you with points that can be spent on items and charms at save points, so there’s an additional reason to aim well.

It’s a lot to remember, but when it clicks, Crimson Butterfly’s combat is compelling. Often, you’ll only fight one wraith at a time, but even that is challenging. Success is a matter of sidestepping attacks, managing your health and Willpower, and waiting for a ghost to attack so Mio can capture that elusive Fatal Frame. Choosing the right film matters, too. Will you stick with the infinite but weak and slow-to-reload Type-07 or upgrade to the slightly stronger but still slow and limited Type-14? The Type-61 is powerful, but reloading film still takes a while and you can’t carry much of it, while the rarer Type-90 is fast, powerful, and can be carried in bulk. And then there is the incredibly slow, but powerful, Type-00, which deals massive damage even to the most frightening wraiths. There just isn’t much of it. Crimson Butterfly Remake’s combat is about timing and choice, and unlike most horror games, requires you to leave yourself open and literally face your fears to succeed. You are always vulnerable; Mio always has reason to be afraid.

Each ghost presents its own challenges. You might be tempted to use Type-07 film for more standard spirits, but others will quickly push you into loading more precious film into your camera, and each time you miss a shot with a more valuable film, it hurts. You will never forget the first time you encounter the woman in the box, nor the first time you’re locked in a room fighting two ghosts at once. My favorite encounter was against a drowned woman on a bridge who moved through the air like she was floating in water, and who seemed to transport Mio underwater as the fight progressed. Even though you’ll fight most ghosts multiple times, they never get old. Even protecting Mayu from ghosts, something you’ll have to do off and on as the sisters are separated and reunited over the course of the story, is less frustrating and simply an additional challenge.

It’s here that I must talk about Crimson Butterfly Remake’s status as a remake. In many ways, it is an unqualified success. It is visually stunning while capturing and thoughtfully updating the character designs, environments, art, and sound of the 2003 original, and there are images here that will stay with me forever. The change from fixed camera angles to the over-the-shoulder view popularized by Resident Evil 4 is admittedly mixed; it dilutes some of the horror and unease, but it means Crimson Butterfly plays better and is more responsive than any other Fatal Frame. The additions Team Ninja made to the village and the new side stories are wonderful. Even smaller choices, like the ability to hold Mayu’s hand and guide her through the village, which restores both Willpower and both sisters’ health at the expense of slower movement, is a thoughtful change that emphasizes their bond through gameplay. I also appreciate that Crimson Butterfly Remake doesn’t force you to fight everything. Sometimes, sneaking past or running away is the best (or only) option.

What bothers me are the additions to the Camera Obscura. You can equip charms to boost your damage, reduce the health or Willpower you lose when a wraith hits you, and so on. That’s fine. Finding prayer beads in the village enables you to increase how quickly the camera focuses, to focus it or zoom in and out manually, and so on, which were not options before or were unlocked after completing the original game. These are good changes. I largely relied on the automatic focus so I could concentrate on keeping wraiths in frame as I moved around, but made liberal use of the zoom feature.

Where Crimson Butterfly Remake fails is in the addition of filters that you can switch between, each of which comes with its own Special Shot ability, many of which recall the original’s various lenses. The Standard filter is an all-arounder that recovers more willpower with each snap and a Special Shot that can stun; the Paraceptual Filter allows you to see ghosts through walls, has additional range, and it’s Special Shot blinds; the Exposure filter is great for dealing with aggravated wraiths, and the Radiant filter is short ranged but deals absolutely massive damage. Each has additional uses outside of combat: the Paraceptual filter allows you to track traces of spirits, the Exposure filter can reveal hidden areas and ghosts, and the Radiant filter can open doors and objects sealed by blood. In combat, however, they become one note.

Part of this is because of the aggravated wraiths. Each time you snap a picture of a wraith, you risk aggravating it. Basically, they turn red, recover health, take much less damage, attack more frequently, and hit harder. Initially, this is incredibly frustrating, especially if you’ve been using higher quality film or if you’re fighting multiple ghosts at once in a small room. The Exposure filter is great for dealing with aggravated wraiths, though you only get it after you’ve started seeing wraiths get real mad, and you’ll have to spend high quality film to return them to normal via a Shutter Chance (which also automatically triggers Fatal Time). The issue isn’t that there isn’t an answer, it’s that there’s only one answer, at least for a while: Exposure filter and good film. It becomes a grating game of Simon Says, and I often used better film against weaker ghosts to try to end their afterlife before they became aggravated, which works great until it doesn't.

This problem carries over to the other filters, with options like the Paraceptual filter becoming my go-to for all far away ghosts. But the Radiant filter is what really breaks Crimson Butterfly Remake, especially if you upgrade the charms that boost it. Yes, the shorter range means it’s harder to hit things, but if you upgrade it, you’ll do so much damage (especially if you’re using anything other than Type-07 film) that it trivializes everything, even aggravated wraiths and boss fights. By the end, I wasn’t locked in rooms with the ghosts of Minakami Village: They were locked in rooms with me. Well, me, my fully upgraded Radiant filter, and my fully upgraded Radiant filter charm. Combine that with any decent film and they had no chance.

Yes, blasting through ghosts that I previously feared was a thrill, even if I wasn’t taking Pulitzer-worthy shots to do it (though I was still rewarded for quality), and I was never truly unafraid because Mio was still vulnerable. But as I traipsed around the village gathering prayer beads, upgrading my camera, photographing twin dolls, and checking off side stories, I realized how “gamey” some of these new additions were. I was supposed to be figuring out how to escape a haunted village, and while I could argue that completing the side stories gave me a better understanding of what happened here, what I was hoping to accomplish, and what I was up against, the rest felt… artificial. Pick up this film so I always have enough. Photograph those dolls because they're there and doing so unlocks more things at the save point. Grab that prayer bead to get a step closer to another upgrade. Pieces of candy scattered along the ground, and I acquired them because this is a video game and that’s what you do, whether they are out of place or not. Does the removal of the fixed camera angles really help, or does it just ease a little friction? Is it a good design choice, or simply the modern one that will make me more comfortable? Removing film grain makes an image clearer, but it removes detail, too.

Once you start seeing these things, you can’t stop. Case in point: the filters. An inventor making a camera that exorcises ghosts is cool and makes sense in the context of Crimson Butterfly’s story. Filters that do more damage to ghosts, or let you see through walls, or open doors sealed by bloody handprints, on the other hand, only exist to solve gameplay problems. They feel less appropriate for Crimson Butterfly’s world and undermine its otherwise very effective horrors. I went from saying things like “man, I hope there’s not a ghost in that well” to “Get out here, lady. I dare you. I double-dog dare you. I have a Radiant filter and enough Type-90 film to make you wish you’d stayed down there.”

That’s fun as a video game power fantasy, as a way to make my dopamine-seeking lizard brain go brrrr. It’s stuff that would make a lot of sense in Resident Evil, but it goes against what Fatal Frame is. The strength of Crimson Butterfly is that Mio and Mayu are ordinary girls thrust into a terrifying, supernatural situation. As powerful as the Camera Obscura is, Mio is always vulnerable while using it. She always has to look the things that haunt her in the eye, to open herself to harm and not blink. It makes sense that she is afraid when she enters the Kurosawa House and her flashlight fails, or for her to hide from large numbers of ghosts, and Crimson Butterfly is most effective when you share her fear.

Mio’s not a grizzled combat veteran or a superhero masquerading as a civilian the way most video game characters are. She’s a young woman trapped in a haunted village; she’s trying to survive and protect her sister, and she’s scared out of her mind. Her weapon is a camera, not a gun. She cannot physically overpower what threatens her. These are things she can barely comprehend, much less fight. But she continues in spite of that. She keeps raising that camera, facing her fears, and that’s what makes her brave. In creating a more seamless version of Crimson Butterfly that offers plentiful combat options, and allows you to be more powerful as a result, Team Ninja has unintentionally diluted it thematically.

It’s one of my only significant complaints about a remake that otherwise both respects and enhances the art it’s attempting to recreate, a smudge on an otherwise immaculately restored photograph, and something that I have been grappling with the impact of as I’ve thought about this review. I don’t think that this disharmony between thematic intent and modern convenience ruins Crimson Butterfly Remake, or even deeply damages it, and I doubt most people will even care. But it does make Crimson Butterfly feel more like an action game that you can optimize much of the horror out of if you wish to, and I think that does diminish it somewhat as a result.

On its Early Access launch day, before I'd unlocked anything, I was struck by how much Slay the Spire 2 felt more like a remake of the original Slay the Spire than a sequel. The tutorial didn't tell me – someone with over 1,000 hours in the original – anything I didn't already know. The map where you choose your path and whether to aim for riskier battles with higher rewards or potentially lower-stakes encounters (which can still turn wild on you) is exactly the same, and the turn-based combat follows basically all the old rules of how you spend your allotted energy points to play cards that build up your armor and hack away at the enemy's defenses and health until one side or the other is dead.

That's not a bad thing when your starting point is one of the all-time greats – just a few months ago I lavished praise on another deckbuilding roguelike sequel, Monster Train 2, for a similar approach. And as I've progressed and unlocked some of the new content over the first eight or so hours of runs, this follow-up has come more into its own: Two entirely new characters – the Regent and the Necrobinder – join three revamped ones, and loads of new enemies, bosses, artifacts, and random events make Slay the Spire 2 feel worthy of being called a sequel, even if it's extremely familiar in its opening hours. It also has a new art style that's very quickly won me over with its larger characters and less subtle animations (including more elaborate enemy deaths) that make it a bit more lively even though everybody's holding still most of the time.

Since we're still so early, I've been concentrating my progression efforts on my old favorite character, the Defect. This faulty robot is a lot chunkier-looking this time, but his orb-summoning and evoking mechanic is carried over almost unchanged. However, balance is different enough that as someone who routinely blasts through Daily Climbs in the original, I've only managed to win a couple of runs thus far – my first, as the Ironclad (which is probably kinda rigged to make us feel powerful), and one more since as the Defect. Part of that is that there are quite a lot of new cards to unlock that will certainly make things a bit easier than when I'm working with just the basics, and part of it is me cockily charging head-first into battles with elites and bosses I've never seen before and getting my butt handed to me as a learning experience. But it's not like I go into a roguelike of any type expecting to win runs early on – losing and then improving is a big part of the fun.

One area developer Mega Crit has definitely gotten a little more inventive is with special events, some of which can give you a sort of quest that can span across acts (think a more formal version of the first game’s Red Mask interaction). I've gotten a map in Act 1 that led me to a huge treasure pile in Act 2, and a key in one act that opens a chest in the next. There's also a bird egg that must be hatched at a rest site (so it comes at the opportunity cost of not healing yourself or upgrading a card). Those are represented by unplayable cards until their quest is resolved, so there's at least a minor consequence to carrying them with you because they take up space in your deck and hand that could've gone to something useful in the moment.

I've also seen a bit more willingness to let us tweak how cards work beyond simply upgrading them. A few new modifiers like letting you re-use a card, making defense cards exhaust but gain +1 after use, giving you an extra energy the first time you play a card, making a card retainable, etc. – these all have the potential to make builds a lot more flexible than in the original.

The big feature that truly sets Slay the Spire 2 apart is the up-to-four-player co-op mode, and in the couple of runs I've done with others, it's been more than a little chaotic. Within each turn of combat, it's a real-time free-for-all where everybody plays their cards at once, so if you're not coordinating your attacks over voice chat it gets crazy extremely quickly as the cards stack up and wait their turns for their animations to play out. If you plan on getting anywhere as a team you'll definitely want to make sure you're working together, because Slay the Spire 2 balances out the presence of multiple players by dramatically increasing enemy hitpoints (and their attacks hit everybody at once), so you'll need to focus fire to take out priority targets quickly. Given there's no matchmaking to find random people to play with, though, it's safe to say you'll be in some form of communication with your teammates.

Things are made a little more forgiving in co-op in that downed players are automatically revived to 1HP after a battle and you can use your rest site action to heal a teammate instead of yourself. You also get the same number of random artifacts as you have players each time they're handed out, which lets you choose the best fit for each of your builds (with any disputes settled randomly). I can see that giving you a major leg up over simply taking whatever pops out of a chest. I've also gotten a few co-op-specific cards that allow me to boost my teammates, such as giving them a random card to play in combat.

Of course, I expect that the difficulty will ramp up pretty dramatically as well, and require even more planning of your order of operations than you have to do alone. It's deliberately designed to make you and your teammates hash things out in conversation: You can't see a teammate's entire hand, but they can mouse over one card at a time and it'll be displayed over their character's head so you can see what they're talking about. I also love how you can draw on the map now, plotting out where you're going or just doodling. (That works in single-player as well, if you want to leave yourself a note.)

I will say that it would be great if Mega Crit could find a better solution for what happens when someone in your party has to bail mid-run, because right now that person's character just stops and you have to abandon your game with nothing to show for it. To be fair, a typical run isn't going to go more than an hour and everybody should know what they're getting into before setting out on a group adventure, but things happen.

After just one day of playing there's certainly a lot more here to cover, especially since it at least appears to be largely "complete" in terms of how much content is here (though who knows how much bigger Mega Crit plans to make it before 1.0). Outside of the balance changes we've been told to expect, the only real indication that this is an early access game is the goofy MS Paint-style placeholder art you'll see on a handful of cards and in the progression tree that serves up bite-sized bits of lore as you unlock new cards, potions, and artifacts.

So how long will it take me to wrap up this review? Hard to say: this isn't really the kind of game that you ever fully "beat," and if the first one is any indication I'll likely still be doing the randomized Daily Climbs in Slay the Spire 2 well into the 2030s. But I expect I'll be able to form some coherent thoughts about its new ideas within the next week or so of bashing my head against its various bosses and figuring out how to generate the star currency the Regent uses to cast his spells and how to manage the Necrobinder's pet skeleton hand. So check back next week for more impressions, and tell us how your early runs have been going so far in the comments.

If it’s Wrestlemania season, that means it’s also time for a new WWE 2K game. Over the last few years, this series has been on its most impressive run to date, and WWE 2K26 is a solid enough next chapter in that story. I don’t regret the time I've spent running the ropes in this year’s ring, but with another milquetoast Showcase mode and the growing tendrils of monetization wrapping itself around the experience like an anaconda vise, it’s starting to feel like the golden age for 2K wrestling games might be coming to an end.

2K26 hasn’t learned many new moves since last year, mostly just tweaking existing base mechanics. The biggest slam to the system is an adjustment to stamina, adding a condition called “winded” to superstars who run out. While winded, your stamina wheel turns from yellow to purple, and you can no longer run or use reversals until it empties and goes back to normal. This adds more risk-reward to all of the offensive and defensive actions you do in the ring that cost stamina.

It also creates a solution to the 2K series issue of how powerful the reversal system is (you are basically unstoppable if you’ve become the Tribal Chief of pressing one button on time, every time) by making it cost stamina to do and penalizing you for running your stamina into the red. However, it doesn’t address the problem of how the reversal prompts are unintuitive and sometimes at unpredictable points during a move’s animation, making picking the system up feel impossible without hours of ring time and muscle memory development. It also creates a new issue that penalizes players for getting good at the janky system in the first place. To play around this, you might opt to go for pins or submissions you normally wouldn't attempt in order to wait the debuff out. That is an interesting way to make matches mimic the real life pace of TV wrestling, but does feel like a violation of the aggressive spirit of a wrestling game. You win some, you lose some, I guess.

Other adjustments are nice to have but don’t change the flow or feel of matches significantly. Harkening back to the series’ pre-Visual Concepts days, collision physics have been changed slightly, so throws and bumps are less trapped in canned animation sequences and interact with objects around them. A body suplexed into the ropes will actually bounce off in a more appropriately reactive way instead of attempting to clip through them. Throw an opponent onto the ring stairs, and they’ll properly crunch around their hulking metal block. This doesn’t have any obvious mechanical advantages, you don’t do noticeably more damage to opponents if you drop them on a chair vs the mat. But it is entertaining and enhances the slapstick nature already inherent in any given match to sometimes Looney Tunes levels.

Another blast from the past are the additional match types added in 2K26: I Quit, Dumpster, Inferno, and Three Stages of Hell. That last one is essentially a gauntlet where you choose three different match stipulations and wrestle through them, two-out-of-three falls style. The Dumpster match is functionally no different than the Casket or Ambulance matches, where you have to weaken opponents enough to shove them in a box they don't want to be in. The Inferno match returns from the Smackdown vs Raw series with a more straight forward play path: Doing moves increases the temperature gauge, and once it's at max, you must expose the enemy to the flames to win. This was cool, but also isn’t that special once the new car smell has burned away.

I Quit is arguably the best of these new options, basically elaborating on the submission match, but instead of the normal mashing minigame, players that are being forced to say I Quit must pass a series of checks hitting the right spots on a gauge enough times to continue on. These spots get smaller as you take more damage, and opponents can add blockers to make the task that much harder, which they can earn the same way they earn finishers. This is a really clever idea, just complex enough to be engaging and tactical without being too much to deal with.

This year’s Showcase, themed around the highlights and lowlights of CM Punk’s two-pronged WWE career, was a disappointment. It suffers from most of the same problems that these modes always have, like the gaping holes in history that it has to ignore for corporate reasons, or the awkward ways it tries and fails to recreate major moments in real matches as gameplay moments. The former is a problem not just because of wrestler contract woes – Bryan Danielson won’t be on the playlist since he’s with a rival company these days – but also its wholesale refusal to engage at all with why CM Punk left WWE for over a decade. I'm sure it's a legal minefield and also a bit of a bummer to discuss some of those details for all parties involved, but they make no real attempt to address it at all, and it feels a little insulting to the intelligence after a while. There's also no mention of CM Punk’s most infamous/influential moment, when he went off script during the now legendary “Pipe Bomb” promo, which seems like the kind of oversight that’s punishable by going one on one with The Undertaker.

The 10+ year gap he’s had in his career is already a spectre that really haunts this mode, as it makes the pickings for memorable moments to relive slim. They try to address this with a little kayfabe, Punk engaging in a metanarrative between matches to use the “Slingshot Technology” that Showcase employs to meld matches and real footage as a sort of time machine. That allows him to both undo some losses in his own career, embody Bret Hart to prevent the Montreal Screwjob, and indulge himself in a bunch of “what if” dream matches. These make up half of the Showcase and definitely feel more like busy work than cool experiences, even though they are right in line with the toybox nature of wrestling games to begin with.

This year’s MyRise follows The Archetype, a former top star returning from a long layoff to try to get their groove back. It’s an more streamlined story overall, with fewer big beats across its six chapters but some more consequential decisions to make in each, usually to change your alignment from heroic fan favorite to callous villain (and possibly back again). The plot of The Archetype’s journey has the kinds of twists and turns you might expect from a main character on any given stretch of episodes of the TV shows, filled with overcoming impossible odds, having victory snatched from you though dastardly betrayals, and so on. The writing and voice acting throughout is consistent for the series, which is to say largely mediocre but not offensively so.

Though it’s shorter than past MyRise’s, grinding largely meaningless matches to get from plot point to plot point still feels like wasted time. The process is more transparent than last year, now instead of just doing a bunch of matches until they say you can move on, you have a goal to earn 12 stars in however many matches it takes you to do so (you can earn up to five per match). These help build your attribute points to make your superstar stronger, but no good story-based attempt is made to make these matches feel like anything other than homework. Speaking of story, the adherence to the regular WWE storytelling formula is nice but I really missed the weird and silly stuff I often associated with this mode. Last year's game featured resident wrestling jester R-Truth unlocking the secrets of traveling the multiverse. In games passed, your wrestler might have a whole side quest based around finding a cursed amulet that gave you wrestling demon powers.

These sorts of things seem relegated to The Island, the weird, Street Fighter World Tour-esque multiplayer hub world that lets players create their own wrestlers and participate in open world RPG-style quests while also competing with each other on leaderboards, which is at least a more coherent game mode out of the gate this time. It embraces and builds on the fantastical nature of last year’s version, leaning into mysterious powers of The Island of Relevancy, now being divided up by three different factions all fighting to gain its magical powers. This sort of pro wrestling RPG nonsense is something that I would be all over on paper, but the original Island’s poor writing and janky pacing put me off.

This year makes an attempt to address that. Having a better map to navigate and being fully voiced are steps in the right direction, but the stories being told are just as bad and boring. Your characters start with minimal cosmetic options and way more stats to manage than in any other mode, all because of the profit incentive inherent in this mode, which requires you to spend a lot of time grinding in-game experience to unlock options or level up while also enticing you to tap out and just buy yourself a shortcut with real money. You could ignore the cosmetics, sure, but if you want to get anywhere on the multiplayer leaderboards without spending hours grinding, I don’t see how it's possible without opening your wallet. This dawned on me pretty early, and I haven’t been back since.

Battle Passes make their debut in 2K26, and they leave a lot to be desired. There is a lot to earn split between free and premium pass tracks. Many of the free rewards are arenas, superstars, championships, and cosmetics you would have usually bought from an in-game store with free currency in previous games (or would have just been available out of the gate), while the premium track features a lot of MyFaction related goodies and a handful of extra wrestlers, with this first season themed around the stars of AAA. These replace the wrestler DLC drops of old, and I can see them being a frustrating replacement – not simply because it means you’ll need to grind matches in order to unlock things you’d just buy previously, but also because unlocking new tiers seems to take a lot of work. I spent around 25 hours between random exhibition matches, finishing Showcase mode, one full playthrough of MyRise, and a couple of hours on The Island, and I’ve only made it to tier 14 of 40. At the end of the track are unlockables, like what would have been the late Bray Wyatt’s last costume and a really cool move that I would have loved to give to a custom wrestler, but I fear I simply don’t have the endurance for that grind, or the patience to accept that I even have to.

Some of the more niche modes like Universe and MyGm are still good, with small improvements that don’t shake things up too dramatically but are certainly nice to have. You can now draft rosters against a computer controlled GM in Universe mode, and can do so really whenever you want, adding a dynamic way to shake up your rosters if things are starting to get stale. MyGM expands seasons to 50 weeks (and adds more PLEs to compensate), more match types, etc. The key change I found really spiced all this up the most was that you could book intergender matches and feuds, as well as book wrestlers in matches and promos on the same card. That means nothing to people who don’t care about this, but GM heads know that it opens up a lot of new options for promoting matches and maximizing your potential for fan and money gains from week to week. Great little shining additions to modes that are hiding away in corners.