In what feels like a spiritual successor to 2016's Aragami, Ereban: Shadow Legacy transforms you into a deadly shadow that can become one with the darkness--the ultimate stealth operative. The game doesn't quite deliver the necessary challenge to make for a successful stealth game, however, as the first trick you learn will get you through the entire game without a hitch. It does far better on the platforming front, and though its cast of characters could have used some fleshing out, the futuristic sci-fi world they inhabit is cultivated with colorful sights and intriguing snippets of lore.

As its name implies, Shadow Legacy's main gimmick is its use of shadows. You play as Ayana, the last of the titular Ereban, a people who possess the innate ability to become one with and manipulate shadows. Using her shadow merge ability, Ayana can sink into shadows to creep past enemies, slink up walls, and dispose of bodies, encouraging you to stick to the shadows where your toolbelt is at its strongest. Alongside these shadow abilities, Ayana has an assortment of advanced gadgets--some are always useful like a recon pulse that marks enemies and items through walls, while others are more situational like mines that stun targets--which work regardless of the lighting situation.

I initially thought that this would present plenty of opportunities and strategies to sneak past enemies, most of whom will take out Ayana in a single hit. There's a healthy variety of foes who want to take her down--standard enemies don't pose much threat beyond the flashlight they carry to take away your darkness, but the more adept snipers can spot you from afar and the stealthy droids who can go invisible can ruin your day if you're not taking time to look for the telltale shimmer. And then there are the human enemies who present a moral quandary rather than a gameplay one--while the mechanical droid-like enemies that dominate each level can be killed with impunity, murdering the living and breathing human workers will negatively impact Ayana's morality and others' perception of her (which I'll touch on a bit more later).

To stand out as a Souls-like these days, a game needs to either reach similar heights as the genre's namesake when it comes to gameplay, or have a compelling new spin on the genre. While Another Crab's Treasure gets close on the combat front, its excellent 3D platforming are what help distinguish it. Combining those gameplay elements with a genuine, if perhaps slow to start, story about a crab named Kril, who starts as a loner just wanting to get his shell back and go home, but instead finds a greater understanding of the vast ocean, makes for a fun take on the genre.

The game kicks off with Kril's shell being repossessed as a tax by a wealthy monarch, but this setup is mainly used as an excuse to send him on a treasure hunt across the ocean. Kril's story during Another Crab's Treasure is a particularly strong aspect of the game. While initially framed as a tale about Kril breaking out of his routine and finding renewed purpose, it eventually tackles the ocean's ongoing pollution problems, taking the narrative to a place that is bleak yet also genuine. Where Kril finds himself by the end isn't one of those overdone happy endings, but instead a far more complicated place that feels true to some of the game's more dour themes.

The game is broken up into large levels, filled with both enemies and platforming challenges, that you need to explore to find an objective, such as a piece of a treasure map, or reach a far-off structure. The levels are well-designed, with combat and platforming flowing together seamlessly. There are a few places where the brutality of Another Crab's Treasure does overdo it--such as during platforming sections overlooked by ranged enemies--which results in unwelcome difficulty spikes. Trying to navigate these areas while not getting blown up by ranged attacks that take away a third of your health goes from difficult to frustrating, but this only happens in a handful of instances.

The main character in this open-world action-RPG adaptation of the late Akira Toriyama's Sand Land is arguably its egg-shaped tank. Developer ILCA has crafted a game with a heavy emphasis on vehicular combat and traversal, which is a fitting design choice considering Toriyama's love and passion for anything with a motor. You only have to glance at the number of vehicles featured in the Dragon Ball series to appreciate the legendary artist's vehicular love affair. As iconic and instantly recognizable as Toriyama's character designs are, his unique vehicle designs are just as evocative and essential to his signature world-building. Whether it's a car, scooter, hovercraft, or airship, Toriyama's anomalous designs are a delight, and Sand Land's bulbous tank is one of his best, mixing his characteristics with historical influences to create a memorable piece of machinery. ILCA's Sand Land might lack substance beneath its oozing style, but sitting behind the cockpit of some of Toriyama's intricately designed vehicles is a near-constant treat, even if it falters elsewhere.

The first half of the game's story is a faithful retelling of the original 14-chapter one-shot manga released in 2000. Set in the titular wasteland, Sand Land centers on a desert world suffering from an extreme water shortage, where sci-fi, fantasy, action, and comedy intertwine. You play as the rambunctious pink-skinned demon prince, Beelzebub, a video game-obsessed fiend who's as good as gold despite his protestations otherwise. Alongside the stern-faced Sheriff Rao and your wise old pal, Thief, you embark on a quest to uncover a rumored water source that will hopefully restore Sand Land to life. The second half of the game's narrative covers the brand-new events featured in the recently released anime adaptation. While the first six episodes of the show rehash the familiar ground of the manga, the last seven episodes function as a sequel to the original story, with Toriyama conceptualizing a fresh tale that sees Beelzebub, Rao, and Thief embroiled in a lopsided war after venturing into the neighboring Forest Land.

Sand Land might not be as popular as Toriyama's other works, such as Dragon Ball and Dr. Slump, but despite its niche nature, its recent resurgence isn't without merit. The characters and world-building found in Sand Land are its greatest strength, and these elements are seamlessly translated into the game. The relationship between Beelzebub, Rao, and Thief is just as charming as it was on the page, while the game's open world gives their conversations and banter space to breathe as you travel between locations. These moments excel when pulling lines straight from the manga, but pockets of incidental dialogue have a habit of repeating over and over again, which quickly becomes grating to the point where I wish I could've muted it completely.

What we let inspire us and what we pay homage to says a lot about the creations we make. Stellar Blade's influences come from the last two generations of character action games and it wields them proudly, channeling not just ideas but themes, designs, and even stylistic flourishes from games like Bayonetta and Nier Automata. It is only through understanding where Stellar Blade comes from that one can begin to discern what it improves upon and where it falls short of the giants that developer Shift Up's title wishes to stand on the shoulders of.

Stellar Blade puts you in control of Eve, a human arriving at a far-flung future Earth riddled with monsters known as Naytibas. EVE possesses superhuman powers, having been raised on a space colony and trained specifically to free what few survivors remain on the planet from the oppression of this omnipresent and existential threat. Along the way, the story takes a few twists and turns but largely stays in the realm of pulp science-fiction that is sometimes undermined by its own need to one-up itself. Characters change motives in service of plot twists at the drop of a hat and then resume their previous mindset without acknowledgement or comment. There are times that I wished the writing showed a bit more self-restraint rather than feel like the first season of a TV show throwing a hail-mary for a second.

The weight of the inconsistent quality of the writing tilts heavier towards Stellar Blade's disadvantage, as occasional head-scratching side quests are followed up by decidedly compelling ones, though not as often as it should. Just when you feel fatigued with following waypoints, the game serves a side quest with unique content and boss fights or a narrative beyond looking for someone who it turned out already died. The main story grazes the surface of subject matter like transhumanism and moral relativity, but it does little with them. Stilted and stiff voice acting also does little to help you take the story seriously and often brings you out of it. Historically, the quality of a character action game's story has scarcely mattered to the overall package, but those expecting something above the genre average should readjust expectations.

Grief is a messy, convoluted emotion to navigate. There's rarely a straightforward path to get through it; oftentimes it can feel like you're walking in circles around what you're looking for, or banging your head against the same mental roadblock again and again. In many ways, the experience of playing through a metroidvania mimics the feeling of working through grief--the genre is built on a similar path of progression, where the necessary tools to move forward are earned step-by-step, and a protagonist's evolving moveset makes it easier to overcome its challenges and navigate a seemingly inescapable world. Tales of Kenzera: Zau leans into that parallel, creating a powerful and moving message within the context of a stellar action-adventure game.

Tales of Kenzera sees you play as Zau, the fictional hero of a story that a father wrote for his son just prior to the father's death. Zau, similarly, is working through the grief of a lost father. Unable to get past the pain, he calls upon the god of death, Kalunga, and offers him a deal: If Zau successfully brings the three great spirits that have resisted Kalunga to the land of the dead, then Kalunga will bring Zau's father back to life. The god agrees and the duo set out, Zau relying on the shaman masks and training he inherited from his father to overcome the dangers of nearby lands. As a metroidvania, the game features moments where Zau must backtrack and use newly unlocked abilities (freezing water, for example, or a grappling hook used to swing over large pits), which Kalunga helps Zau master to navigate the distinct biomes of the map.

Inspired by Bantu mythology, Tales of Kenzera's map is a beautiful maze that pulls from African culture to characterize and flavor the interconnected areas. The myths of the Bantu color the undertones to the story, equating Zau's battle against larger-than-life monsters with a spiritual journey--you don't question how or why Zau's efforts to beat up a mother helps convince her to come to terms with leaving her daughter behind. Within Tales of Kenzera's lore, these actions make sense, reframing the physical space of the world into something more akin to a mental palace. That reframing contributes to the explosive battles, too, with the sound design and orchestral score of the soundtrack transforming each fight into a frenetic dance of emotion and spiritual energy where flame-infused shockwaves are stand-ins for violent outbursts and well-timed dodges equate to a carefully considered counterargument.