EZRetro Plays

Category: Reflections

  • Kaiju No. 8 Mobile Review

    Kaiju No. 8 Mobile Review

    After Black Beacon announced that it would end service on global servers, I honestly thought it was time for me to take a break from mobile gaming and just go back to retro titles. Funny, but that’s how it felt.

    I was genuinely excited for the world Black Beacon promised to build, only for the game to fizzle out before anything meaningful even happened. I had already uninstalled it before the November 4 announcement because something told me it wasn’t going to last.

    So I shifted gears, binge-watched anime for a while, and decided that for my next mobile review, I’d explore anime-licensed games instead.

    I downloaded several of them—from Tokyo Ghoul to One Punch Man: World to Lord of Nazarick. But out of everything I tried, Kaiju No. 8 stood out immediately.

    Kaiju no. 8 anime cover art

    Co-produced by Akatsuki Games, TOHO, and Production I.G, the game’s visual identity screams anime from the first loading screen.

    What surprised me most was how much I enjoyed it—even if it’s a turn-based gacha. I’ve played my share of gachas, but enjoying a turn-based one this much? Definitely unexpected. Looking back, I kind of wish I had played this in September instead of putting my hopes on Black Beacon.

    Kaiju no. 8 the game loading logo

    A big part of why Kaiju No. 8 hits differently is because each studio contributes something meaningful. Production I.G injects the anime DNA—the sharp expressions, the cinematic cut-ins, the pacing.

    Godzilla

    TOHO, being the veteran behind Godzilla and practically every iconic kaiju, gives the monsters and world that familiar, polished feel you don’t see in most mobile games.

    Akatsuki games co-produced a number of character driven games like Romancing Saga Re Universe

    Meanwhile, Akatsuki Games, known for character-focused mobile titles, brings progression systems that make each character feel more than just a unit to level up. Combined with the turn-based format, the whole thing ends up feeling less like a cash grab and more like a continuation of the anime and manga.

    Everything, from the lore to the presentation is steeped in Kaiju No. 8’s world, and it will hook fans of the series as well as anyone who loves the military-vs-monster genre.

    Visuals and Presentation

    Visually, Kaiju No. 8 captures the anime look effortlessly. The character models are crisp, the animations have personality, and the overall art direction sticks close to the vibe of the show.

    The only small nitpick is that character lips don’t move during dialogue, but with how good the voice delivery is, you stop noticing almost instantly. The style and presentation are strong enough to carry the immersion without any problem.

    Gacha and Progression

    Gacha tab in kaiju no. 8

    Kaiju No. 8 is still a gacha game, and yes, pulls can feel unfair. With only a limited number of characters and SSR weapons available at a time, it really can feel like the game throws more junk at you than anything actually useful.

    But the story and content pull their own weight, so even when the gacha frustrates you, there’s always something to go back to.

    Sometimes it even feels like you’re pulling just to complete achievements instead of genuinely wanting the units, because once you’re done rolling, you’ll probably jump straight back into the content anyway.

    The turn-based combat can get repetitive if you blast through it nonstop, but at a steady pace, it stays enjoyable and the grind becomes rewarding rather than tiring.

    Gameplay and Content

    Kaiju No. 8’s structure is built around multiple modes, each focusing on different aspects of the story and characters.

    Main Story

    The main story is pretty substantial. It features six episodes, each divided into stages from Episode 0 to Episode 5. As far as I can tell, this storyline is original and made specifically for the game.

    What’s impressive is how committed the developers are to giving fans something worth reading. With the anime having just ended Season 2, fans are craving more material while waiting for Season 3, and this game fills that gap nicely.

    I haven’t read the manga, so I can’t tell which parts are adapted from it, but the writing fits the Kaiju No. 8 universe well.

    Memory Stages

    Memory Stages tackle key moments from the anime. These aren’t direct retellings of Season 1 or 2, but condensed highlight episodes that cover Kafka gaining his kaiju abilities all the way to the Season 1 finale where he gets captured. No spoilers, but these scenes are faithful enough that anime fans will recognize everything instantly. It’s a great way to relive the show inside the game.

    Character Stories

    Every time you get a new character through the gacha, the game unlocks their set of character stories. These are short, text-based segments that explore their personalities more. Each character has three episodes, and reading through them gives small rewards and sometimes wallpapers you can use on your home screen. They don’t affect gameplay, but they add charm and deepen the world-building, which I really enjoyed.

    JAKDF Messages and Special Requests

    JAKDF Messages act like a group chat where the characters interact with Kafka (you). The responses are linear, but the writing is entertaining and helps flesh out character dynamics.

    This mode is also tied to Special Requests, which give you extra battles to raise your team rank and player rank.

    As a free-to-play player, my only difficulty spike happened around level 40. I had to grind materials for about two days to push my team up to level 90 and break through the wall. I was tempted to spend money, but the game is generous enough with farming that you can progress without paying.

    One thing I forgot to mention is expedition mode. It’s like a idle game where you clear out endless waves that can earn you supplies and energy for when you log out.

    Right now, I’ve cleared the main story and memory content and am waiting for the next version update, which should drop soon. If the developers keep this pace, I’ll be playing this game for quite a while.

    My only concern is whether future characters will be locked behind season passes or paid-only packs, but that’s something I’ll revisit when more content arrives.

    Performance and Sound

    With three studios backing this project, the sound design is exactly what you’d expect: sharp, clean, and fitting. The voice lines are delivered with emotion and energy, and one detail I appreciated is how each character says a line when switching in for a follow-up attack.

    Sometimes the line changes too, which keeps it from sounding repetitive. It’s a small touch, but a really smart one.

    Performance-wise, some mid-range phones reportedly experience overheating during long sessions. I didn’t encounter this personally because I usually stick to low graphic settings.

    Even on low, the game looks good and runs smoothly for me. So depending on your device, tweaking the settings a bit might be all you need for a stable experience.

    Final Verdict

    Should you play Kaiju No. 8 on mobile?

    If you’re a fan of Kaiju No. 8 or just looking for a polished anime-based game that doesn’t feel like a lazy tie-in, then yes—absolutely play it. This is one of the few anime mobile games that actually tries. TOHO brings the kaiju legacy, Production I.G brings the anime DNA, and Akatsuki brings the character-driven systems that make the whole thing feel alive. It’s a strong combination that pays off.

    The content is substantial, the story is engaging, and even when the gacha pulls annoy you, there’s always something interesting to dive back into. The turn-based gameplay can get dull when rushed, but at a steady pace, it becomes a satisfying grind.

    With more updates on the horizon and the next version coming soon, Kaiju No. 8 is shaping up to be one of the better anime mobile games out there. I’ll definitely be sticking with it.

  • Sony PSP: Lightning in a Bottle, Lost to Time

    Sony PSP: Lightning in a Bottle, Lost to Time

    A Pocket Full of Memories

    I was scrolling through my phone the other night, hopping between retro handheld pages and game lists trying to find something new to play.
    But as I kept going, I noticed something. Most of the games that caught my attention, the ones that made me stop and think, all pointed to one thing: the Sony PSP.

    Released in Japan on December 12, 2004, North America on March 24, 2005, and Europe on September 1, 2005, the PSP stayed around until 2014, a solid 10-year run.
    In that time, it built up over 1,300 game titles, which is insane when you think about it.
    You could play something new every week and still not run out for years.

    A Console in Your Pocket

    SONY PSP 1000 model

    The PSP came out during the PS2’s prime years and somehow it kept pace.
    While the PS2 was out there delivering hits every month, the PSP was taking some of those worlds and putting them in your hands.

    You had games like Def Jam: Fight for New York, Fight Night Round 3, and even Tekken 6 running smooth on a handheld.
    And the exclusives? That’s where the PSP really showed off with Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy Type-0, Dissidia 012 Duodecim, Patapon, and Half-Minute Hero.
    These weren’t watered-down versions, they were full experiences made for the PSP.

    Then there’s Monster Hunter, and honestly, that game changed everything.
    When Monster Hunter Freedom and Freedom Unite came out, the PSP turned into a real-life multiplayer hub.
    You’d see people hanging out in malls or cafés, PSPs in hand, connecting through ad-hoc to hunt rare monsters together.
    It wasn’t just about grinding or loot drops, it was community.
    That era was pure vibes, no Wi-Fi, no mic chat, just real people meeting up to play.

    monster hunter freedom unite guild hall

    “Everyone had a PSP in their bag.
    You’d walk by a table, hear the sound of a Great Sword swing, and know exactly what was going down.”

    Why I Still Love the PSP Today

    One of the coolest things about the PSP is how easy it is to play now.
    You don’t even need a fancy handheld or gaming phone because emulation runs smooth on almost anything.

    I still play Tekken 6 on my phone, and honestly, I like it better that way.
    Sliding my combos on the touchscreen just feels smoother than mashing buttons on the real PSP or a controller.
    Might sound weird, but it just works for me.

    That’s the charm of the PSP. It still fits in today’s world.
    It’s not too old for new players, but it still hits that retro nostalgia we all chase.

    The Hype That Fell Flat

    When Sony announced the PlayStation Portal, I got hyped.
    I really thought, “This might be it. The PSP comeback. Maybe even a Switch killer.”

    But when it finally came out on November 15, 2023, the excitement turned into disappointment.
    It wasn’t a new handheld. It was basically a remote screen for the PS5.
    You can’t even use it without owning one.

    And man, that hurt.
    The PSP stood on its own. You didn’t need anything else, just the console, a UMD, and maybe a memory stick if you were lucky.
    The Portal, on the other hand, felt like half a step forward.

    “The PSP gave you freedom.
    The Portal gave you a reminder that you still need your PS5.”

    Why That Magic’s Hard to Find Now

    The PSP hit different because developers back then were still experimenting.
    They were testing ideas, taking risks, and seeing how far they could push a handheld.
    Games felt like passion projects, not business plans.

    Now it’s mostly about monetization, DLCs, and keeping players spending.
    And that shift killed a lot of that creative fire.

    Even Sony’s follow-up, the PS Vita, proves that.
    On paper, it was the PSP’s smarter, faster sibling with dual analog sticks, touchscreen features, and those back-touch controls.
    And the games looked great, like they were really made for the Vita.
    Titles like Killzone Mercenary, Gravity Rush, and Soul Sacrifice were stunning for their time.

    But here’s where it dropped the ball, the price.
    Everything about the Vita was expensive.
    The handheld itself, the games, and especially that Sony-exclusive memory card you had to buy separately just to save anything.
    So imagine this: you buy the console, then you find out you need an overpriced memory card, then you realize there’s no free game included.
    That’s another trip to the store and another dent in your wallet.

    Sony PS Vita

    To be fair, the PSP wasn’t cheap either, but the difference is, the PSP got hacked early on.
    Once custom firmware came in, people turned it into a do-everything handheld.
    You could emulate older consoles, load your own games, and basically carry your entire library on a single memory stick.
    It became the retro handheld before retro handhelds were even a thing.

    And honestly, that spirit, the whole “make it your own” vibe, carried over to the Vita too.
    Once that system got cracked, it came alive again.
    People used it to play PSP and PS1 titles, homebrew, emulators, everything.

    In a way, that just proves the point.
    The handhelds that lived on weren’t the ones with the best specs, they were the ones people could make personal.
    That’s what the PSP had.
    Freedom. Flexibility. A sense of ownership.
    Something modern handhelds just don’t give anymore.

    Looking Back, Still Ahead of Its Time

    The PSP wasn’t just another console, it was a moment.
    It gave us console-level games in our hands, real-world multiplayer before online took over, and a library that still holds up today.

    It wasn’t perfect, but it felt real.
    You could tell it was built by people who wanted to push gaming forward, not just chase trends.

    The PSP will always have the top spot on my retro list.
    Not because it’s perfect, but because it reminded us what gaming felt like when everything was new and exciting.
    It was lightning in a bottle, and no one’s managed to catch it again.

  • The Comfort of Pixels: Finding Calm in Retro Games

    The Comfort of Pixels: Finding Calm in Retro Games

    There’s something about old games that never fades. Maybe it’s the simple stories, the pixel art, or that familiar chiptune sound that instantly brings you back. No fancy graphics, no big explosions, just pure fun.

    We live in a time where everything moves too fast. Work, messages, deadlines, everything is always buzzing for your attention. So when I play something old and simple, it slows the world down a bit. It reminds me of when gaming was just about enjoying the moment.

    Comfort Mode On

    When I play on a tiny handheld like the Miyoo Mini, I’m not looking for flashy visuals or new features, I’m just looking for comfort. There’s something deeply satisfying about that small screen lighting up with Castlevania or Final Fantasy IV. No loading, no updates, no nonsense. Just the game.

    The Miyoo Mini isn’t just a gadget; it’s a pocket-sized time machine. It fits in your hand, but somehow holds years of memories inside. Every D-pad click feels like turning the pages of my childhood, one stage, one level, one victory at a time.

    Its form factor is one of the best things about it. I can tuck it inside my shirt pocket or jeans, and most of the time, I don’t even notice it’s there. But the comfort it gives when I get a few minutes to play, whether I’m waiting for coffee or on a break, is unbeatable. It’s even more convenient than my phone or my Anbernic devices. The Miyoo Mini doesn’t demand attention. It quietly waits for the right moment, and that’s what makes it special.

    Life gets heavy sometimes, work, family, love, all of it. But spending even a couple of hours doing something that once made you happy as a kid, that’s peace right there.

    Sometimes, after a long day, I don’t want to think too much. I just want something familiar. That’s when I grab the Miyoo, dim the lights, and let that little screen take me somewhere calm.

    Memory and Meaning

    Retro games hit differently because they remind us of who we were. They’re not just games; they’re pieces of time. The startup sound of the PS1. The bloop when Mario jumps. The high score jingle from Space Impact.

    In a world that’s stressful, whether it’s work, relationships, or family, finding a few quiet hours to do something you loved as a kid feels almost therapeutic. It’s a small reminder that joy doesn’t always have to be complicated.

    Each sound, each pixel, is like opening a window to an easier time, when the only thing that mattered was getting past that one hard level.

    And now that devices like the Miyoo Mini make these games portable again, it’s like carrying a piece of your past with you wherever you go. You can pause modern life for a bit and just play, no guilt, no rush.

    Simple by Design

    Maybe it’s not really about nostalgia. Maybe it’s about balance. Retro games remind us that not everything has to be about achievements, unlocks, or endless updates.

    You don’t “finish” Tetris. You don’t “beat” Pac-Man. You just keep going. And somehow, that’s enough.

    When life feels noisy and crowded, a few minutes with something you loved as a child can feel like breathing again. It’s not running away, it’s returning to a part of yourself that’s been quiet for too long.

    And in a world that always wants more from you, that kind of simplicity is priceless.

    Press Start to Feel Again

    Retro gaming is still alive because we need it. We need that small reminder of when things were simple, fun, and full of wonder.

    Whether you’re playing on an old console, a modern port, or a Miyoo Mini loaded with classics, what matters is how it makes you feel.

    Maybe we don’t play retro games because they’re old.
    Maybe we play them because they remind us who we used to be, and who we still are.

    So go ahead. Charge that Miyoo, load up your favorite ROM, and give yourself a little escape tonight. Not to go back in time, but to remember how good it feels to just play.

  • Black Beacon’s Uncertain Future: Silence, Delays, and “Doom Posting”

    Black Beacon’s Uncertain Future: Silence, Delays, and “Doom Posting”

    When Black Beacon launched globally in April 2025, it felt like the start of something special. The visuals were striking, the premise had depth, and the early updates showed a team that genuinely cared about quality. Six months later, that early excitement has faded into uncertainty and frustration.

    Version 1.3 was originally set to launch on October 14, 2025. Players had been waiting for it, hoping it would mark the next big step for the game. Instead, the developers announced that the update would be delayed indefinitely. There is no confirmed timeline for its release. For a live service game, that kind of silence usually means trouble.

    A Slowdown in Updates

    In its early months, Black Beacon maintained a consistent schedule. Patch notes were posted on April 24 and April 30, followed by updates on May 14 and May 30. Version 1.1 brought new story content and events. July brought Version 1.2 and some balance changes.

    After August 7, everything stopped. No new updates appeared on the official site, and developer communication went quiet. For a live service title that depends on regular engagement, the sudden lack of information stood out immediately.

    The Indefinite Delay

    The developers said the delay was due to team relocation and internal restructuring. Version 1.2 was extended to run until October 14 to give more time for the next update. When that date arrived, the team shifted to saying Version 1.3 had no fixed release window.

    Fan sites confirmed the tone change. The message now is that the update will arrive when it is ready. That phrasing may sound professional, but it often means internal uncertainty. In live service development, vague messaging of this kind usually indicates production slowdowns or shifting priorities.

    The Community Divide

    On Discord and subreddit channels, conversations have turned tense. Some players remain hopeful while others question the future. Those voicing concern are frequently labeled as doom posters. That label is a common shorthand in gaming circles for perceived negativity.

    “Doom posting” grows out of patterns players recognize, such as long delays, inconsistent communication, and absent roadmaps. The growing tension between optimism and concern shows how uneasy the player base has become. Even dedicated supporters are starting to lose confidence.

    Where Things Stand

    There has been no new patch since August and no update on when Version 1.3 will release. The official Discord server remains online but much quieter than before. Social media activity has slowed, and community engagement continues to decline. The developers issued a small in game reward to acknowledge the delay, which suggests they are monitoring the project, but the overall silence is concerning.

    Timeline of Black Beacon updates and communication milestones from April to October 2025

    The servers remain active and the game is still playable, but the lack of visible progress makes the project feel directionless. Without a clear roadmap or transparent communication, the energy that surrounded Black Beacon at launch is fading.

    My Take

    I have followed Black Beacon closely since launch and this feels like a turning point. The fans who express concern are not doom posting for the sake of negativity. They are reacting to real warning signs. A game that once moved with confidence now feels uncertain and adrift.

    There is still hope. The developers can regain trust through honest communication, a realistic roadmap, and meaningful engagement with the community. Communication is the lifeline of any live service title and players are still willing to listen. But if the silence continues much longer, Black Beacon may become a title remembered more for its potential than for its success.

    Final Thought

    In gaming, silence is never just silence. When developers stop speaking, players begin to fill in the blanks themselves. Most of the time, those assumptions are not wrong.

  • Top 10 Horror-Themed Games to Play on the Sega Genesis

    Top 10 Horror-Themed Games to Play on the Sega Genesis

    The Miyoo Mini might have a small 2.9-inch screen, but that’s exactly what makes it perfect. It’s a portal back to those quiet nights hiding under a blanket, playing in secret long after bedtime. You can almost feel that moment again, the dim light of the screen, the hum of the fan, the fear of hearing footsteps outside your door.

    And with Halloween coming, there’s no better way to relive that feeling than through the dark side of the Sega Genesis. The console may not have had realistic horror, but it mastered atmosphere and dread. These games didn’t rely on gore alone. They worked through tone, tension, and gameplay design that still holds up today.

    So get comfortable, dim the lights, and step into the shadows of 16-bit horror.

    10. Ghouls ’n Ghosts (1989)

    Capcom’s Ghouls ’n Ghosts is a brutal test of skill set in a world crawling with undead knights, demons, and grotesque monsters. As Arthur, you battle through crypts and cursed landscapes to rescue souls and reclaim your armor piece by piece.

    What stood out: It demanded precision and pattern recognition. Every enemy’s timing mattered, every jump had consequences, and the punishment for mistakes made victory feel monumental. It was horror through tension and vulnerability.

    Fun Fact: The Genesis version was one of the console’s first faithful arcade ports, helping cement Sega’s reputation for serious, challenging games.

    9. The Immortal (1990)

    An isometric dungeon crawler drenched in darkness, The Immortal forces players to survive traps, monsters, and cruel puzzles in an underground labyrinth.

    What stood out: The focus on environmental hazards created genuine dread. Rooms weren’t just obstacles; they were death traps waiting for you to make a single wrong move. The sense of caution it inspired turned every step into a risk.

    Fun Fact: The game’s fight scenes used zoom-ins and blood animations rarely seen on the Genesis, adding an early cinematic feel to combat.

    8. Gargoyles (1995)

    Based on the darker Disney animated series, Gargoyles delivers gothic platforming at its best. You play as Goliath, a cursed stone warrior battling demonic enemies across medieval castles and stormy skylines.

    What stood out: The animation and movement system gave Goliath a real sense of weight and power. Climbing walls, gliding through the air, and smashing enemies felt tactile and brutal. The visual direction remains one of the Genesis’ most atmospheric achievements.

    Fun Fact: The developers used multiple parallax layers and shadow mapping to achieve its stormy, cinematic look, pushing the hardware late in its life cycle.

    7. Altered Beast (1988)

    One of Sega’s earliest Genesis titles, Altered Beast remains a haunting blend of mythology and horror. You rise from the grave as a resurrected warrior, transforming into werewolves, dragons, and other beasts to defeat the underworld’s creatures.

    What stood out: The transformation mechanic was the centerpiece. Each form had unique attacks and movement styles, forcing you to adapt on the fly. Its slow pacing and eerie resurrection theme gave it a mythical horror feel that still defines early Genesis identity.

    Fun Fact: Altered Beast was originally bundled with the Sega Genesis as a pack-in game before Sonic the Hedgehog took over the role in 1991.

    6. The Ooze (1995)

    You play as a mutated scientist turned blob, crawling through labs and cities in search of revenge. The Ooze is grotesque, slow, and suffocating — perfect for horror.

    What stood out: The control system tied your health directly to your size. The more you moved or attacked, the smaller and weaker you became. It forced restraint and calculation, turning movement itself into a risk.

    Fun Fact: The developers wanted players to feel both powerful and helpless, a rare design goal that perfectly fit the game’s tragic tone.

    5. Chakan: The Forever Man (1992)

    Adapted from Robert Kraus’ comic, Chakan follows an immortal warrior cursed to fight until every evil creature in existence is destroyed. It’s grim, relentless, and soaked in atmosphere.

    What stood out: The non-linear level design gave players the freedom to choose their path, but every stage was built to punish overconfidence. Its combat system demanded precise timing and mastery of weapon effects, making survival itself a victory.

    Fun Fact: True to its source, Chakan ends with the hero realizing that even eternal victory offers no peace, and he must continue fighting in the afterlife.

    4. Alien 3 (1993)

    Alien 3 delivered sci-fi horror with precision. As Ripley, you race through labyrinthine corridors to rescue prisoners before they’re consumed by xenomorphs.

    What stood out: The time-based mission structure made it feel more like survival horror than an action game. You couldn’t afford to waste time or ammunition. The result was a constant push-and-pull between urgency and fear of failure.

    Fun Fact: The randomization of alien encounters kept players tense, since you never knew when something might burst out of the shadows.

    3. Castlevania: Bloodlines (1994)

    Bloodlines was Konami’s answer to the question, “What does gothic horror look like on Genesis?” The result was a masterpiece of atmosphere and mechanical depth.

    What stood out: Its dual protagonists changed the traditional Castlevania formula. John Morris could swing across gaps, while Eric Lecarde used vertical spear thrusts for aerial combat. This gave every level two distinct ways to play, adding complexity without sacrificing the series’ haunting mood.

    Fun Fact: The European version, Castlevania: The New Generation, toned down violence and color palette due to censorship, making the U.S. version the definitive dark experience.

    2. Splatterhouse 2 (1992)

    No subtlety here. Splatterhouse 2 was horror incarnate, a side-scrolling bloodbath inspired by ’80s slasher films.

    What stood out: The slow, deliberate combat created tension in every movement. The physics of your attacks made you feel both powerful and vulnerable. Each strike and scream lingered, making progress feel like survival rather than victory.

    Fun Fact: The developers slowed the game down from its arcade counterpart to make combat heavier, emphasizing dread between each attack.

    1. Splatterhouse 3 (1993)

    The final and finest chapter of Genesis horror, Splatterhouse 3 evolved from a straightforward brawler into a psychological test. With branching paths, timed missions, and multiple endings, it turned horror into a moral struggle.

    What stood out: The time mechanic transformed the experience. Each minute you spent fighting or exploring changed who lived or died. It turned urgency into a narrative weapon, and that tension hasn’t aged a day.

    Fun Fact: Splatterhouse 3’s branching storylines made it one of the earliest console games to integrate player performance into narrative outcomes.

    Final Thoughts

    The Sega Genesis didn’t need realism or jump scares to create horror. Its best games relied on tone, challenge, and imagination to get under your skin. Whether it was through the slow dread of Splatterhouse, the gothic majesty of Castlevania, or the mythic resurrection of Altered Beast, these titles captured the essence of fear in 16-bit form.

    Playing them on a Miyoo Mini or any handheld today still feels just as eerie. There’s something timeless about these pixelated nightmares that modern games can’t quite replicate.

    So turn off the lights, pull the blanket over your head, and let the old horrors come alive again.

  • Otogirisō (1992): The Flower That Haunts — Revisiting Chunsoft’s Sound Novel That Defined Retro Horror

    Otogirisō (1992): The Flower That Haunts — Revisiting Chunsoft’s Sound Novel That Defined Retro Horror

    I first stumbled upon Otogirisō while browsing through old Super Famicom titles a few weeks ago. At first, I thought it was just another forgotten horror visual novel — until I learned it was actually one of the original sound novels, the very foundation for everything that came after from Chunsoft. With an English translation patch available, I decided to load it up on my Miyoo Mini, and it instantly became one of my favorite finds this October.

    It’s perfect for the Halloween season, a game that doesn’t rely on visuals or gore but on atmosphere, sound, and storytelling. The kind of horror that creeps in slowly, like a whisper instead of a scream. And playing it with earphones on, in the dark, made it feel like I was sitting right there inside that mansion as the storm raged outside.

    On the drive, the conversation turns to the roadside flowers, and the protagonist explains what they are. He tells Nami about the Otogirisō — St. John’s Wort — and the old legend that goes with it. The tale is simple and brutal: two brothers once lived together, betrayal ripped them apart, one killed the other, and from the ground where the blood spilled the Otogirisō bloomed. That moment, me telling Nami the story as the rain fell, hooked me immediately. It sets the tone, and the subtle sounds in the background — tires on wet asphalt, distant thunder, soft static — made the whole scene sink into my bones.

    I named the protagonist Bob for my playthrough, after my favorite wrestler, Bob Backlund. Call him what you want, the game lets you, and that little choice made the nightmare feel oddly personal.

    Inside the Mansion

    Otogirisou snes cover

    From the moment Bob and Nami enter, you’re greeted by creaking wood, thunder rolling above, and faint music that seems to breathe with the house itself. You start to explore, and immediately you can sense the unease — the mansion feels alive.

    Unlike modern horror games that rely on visuals, Otogirisō lets the sound design do the heavy lifting. Every pause between lines feels intentional, like the mansion itself is waiting for you to make the wrong move.

    Ps1 cover for Otogirisou

    The story then splits into multiple routes based on your decisions — and this is where Otogirisō truly shines. Each route isn’t just a different ending; it’s a different truth about what’s happening in the mansion. The game contains many endings across multiple routes, and replaying is how you slowly assemble the full picture.

    Route 1: The Curse of the Twins

    This is the route that hit me the hardest — not because it’s the scariest, but because it’s the most tragic.

    If you comfort Nami, stay close, and focus on exploring personal rooms like bedrooms and the study, you begin to pull at threads of the family’s history. Dusty diaries and portraits reveal twin sisters, an uneven love, and a household that fell apart from jealousy. Nami’s memories come back in flashes, she recognizes corners of the house, and gradually it becomes clear that this once was her family home.

    The final scenes are devastating: Nami confronting the twin she was never allowed to be, a sense of completion that’s more a claim than a cure. The Otogirisō flower imagery returns, blooming in scenes of rain and memory. The sound drops to a single soft note as the screen fades. It’s sorrow more than terror, and it lingers because it’s about loss, not spectacle.

    What stands out: the emotional weight and how grief is foregrounded over cheap shocks. The slow pacing lets the player absorb the inevitability, which made it one of the most affecting endings I’ve experienced in a retro horror title.

    Route 2: The Fire

    If you act boldly — exploring suspicious rooms, probing basements, and pressing on despite warnings — you unlock the Burned route.

    This path centers on a night the mansion went up in flames. As Bob finds charred letters and witness fragments, a picture forms of betrayal that boils over into arson. The house’s blackened halls echo with the memory of fire, and the sound design leans into crackles and whispers that suggest the blaze never truly died.

    The twist is how premeditated the violence turns out to be. It wasn’t a random catastrophe but an act of calculated revenge from the heart of the family. Nami’s sanity fractures as she relives those screams, and the ending can leave you trapped watching the fire consume everything while you’re helpless.

    What stands out: the suffocating inevitability and the way the game uses environmental details to imply history. Flames are suggested rather than shown, and that suggestion becomes dread. The Burned route feels like punishment for curiosity, both for the characters and the player.

    Route 3: The Well

    This one is the most unexpected and disturbing.

    If you explore the grounds early and investigate the well, the tone shifts from gothic family drama to something more monstrous. You find notes that read like lab journals, sketches of malformed creatures, and entries hinting at ritual experiments. The story implies that someone in the household tried to bridge life and death with grotesque methods.

    When the well is opened, the game leans into sound and pacing — wet, heavy noises, a rising heartbeat in the music track, text flashing faster — and the horror becomes physical. You don’t see the creature clearly; you hear it. The ending is abrupt and cosmic, with Nami dragged into something ancient beneath the house and the final line: “The Otogirisō blooms again.”

    What stands out: how the game can pivot to cosmic horror within the same narrative framework, and how sound alone conjures an image far worse than literal spritework could manage. It’s one of the weirdest and most effective surprises I’ve seen in retro horror.

    What makes it stand out

    Otogirisō doesn’t rely on jump scares. Its horror is built from suggestion, from the space between lines. The storm, the piano that mimics a heartbeat, the way Nami’s voice trembles over static, these elements build a tension that’s more intimate than loud.

    What makes the experience eerie and enjoyable:

    • Personal stakes: because you name the protagonist and make choices about how to treat Nami, the horror feels intimate.
    • Sound-first design: the noises and silence create a private theater in your head — you imagine the worst, and the game confirms it.
    • Route-based truths: each route reveals a different facet of the mansion’s curse, so every playthrough reframes what you thought you knew.

    Final Thoughts

    Otogirisō isn’t a game you play for jump scares. It’s a game you experience for atmosphere — the unease, the sorrow, and the weight of what’s left unsaid. Playing it on the Miyoo Mini with headphones made the story feel intimate and immediate, like a ghost story folded into a pocket-sized book.

    The legend I told Nami on the road — of two brothers and the flower that grew from betrayal — isn’t just a setup. It’s the beating heart of the game. After seeing the routes, every ending felt like another stanza of that same lament. The image of the Otogirisō blooming from pain will stay with me, long after the rain has stopped in the game and in real life.

    If you want something to play this Halloween that doesn’t just frighten but haunts, give Otogirisō a night. Name your protagonist, maybe call him Bob, and let the mansion whisper its stories into your headphones.

    Because here, horror doesn’t scream, it whispers — and sometimes that’s far more terrifying.

  • Black Beacon Review — A Story-Driven Gem That’s Hanging by a Thread

    Black Beacon Review — A Story-Driven Gem That’s Hanging by a Thread

    When Black Beacon was first announced, I was instantly hyped—especially after finding out that some of the creative team behind Punishing: Gray Raven were involved. That game first launched in China in December 2019 and reached global audiences in July 2021, and I remember enjoying its first few months immensely. PGR nailed the gacha mechanics and combat loop better than most of its peers—it was stylish, rewarding, and far less predatory than Genshin Impact or that horrendous Pokémon Unite mobile system.

    So when Black Beacon finally released globally on April 10, 2025, I jumped in right away. At first, though, the experience was rough—plagued with crashes and slowdowns on my phone. I uninstalled it after a day, telling myself I’d return once the devs ironed things out. Fast-forward a few months later, and Black Beacon was suddenly all over YouTube—mostly for the wrong reasons.

    Content creators were posting about delays, development troubles, and missed updates, while community rumors spread that the devs had moved offices and that the game had no clear roadmap. Despite the negativity, I noticed that those videos were getting heavy backlash from loyal fans, which made me curious enough to reinstall the game and see for myself.

    And honestly? I wish I hadn’t waited so long.

    Story-a mix of theology and science

    What immediately stood out to me was the story. Black Beacon blends biblical myth, ancient history, and dystopian science fiction into a world that feels mysterious but strangely familiar. You’ll encounter themes pulled from the Tower of Babel, King Herod, and even the Morning Star, alongside nods to ancient rulers like King Darius and Akhenaten, the Egyptian pharaoh who tried to shift polytheism into monotheism.

    While some names and details have been changed to fit the game’s narrative, the historical parallels are clear. It’s the kind of writing that makes you pause and go, “Wait, I know that story.” For history buffs, these subtle references feel like Easter eggs woven into a mobile game, and that’s what hooked me the most.

    Zero, one of the game’s central figures, really anchors the experience. Her emotionless voice acting adds an air of class and restraint that fits the tone perfectly—it’s haunting but elegant. I’ll admit, I’m sorely tempted to whale just for the voice and the visuals alone.

    Visuals — Class in Every Frame

    The visuals of Black Beacon scream class. The thin golden hue that overlays much of the UI and backgrounds gives everything a luxurious, polished look. Character designs strike a fine balance between modern sci-fi and mythic elegance, while the environment design creates this sense of divine decay—a civilization that fell from grace but still gleams faintly in the dark.

    Every cutscene feels cinematic, with beautifully rendered models and subtle camera movement that make even dialogue scenes captivating. Simply put, this is one of the most visually cohesive mobile titles I’ve seen all year.

    Sound & Voice Acting — Emotionless, but with Intent

    Audio design is where Black Beacon truly elevates itself. The soundtrack mixes orchestral swells with ambient tones that feel otherworldly. Voice performances are top-tier, especially Zero’s. Her cold, detached delivery contrasts perfectly with the chaos of the world around her. It’s a masterclass in restraint—proof that not all emotional impact needs to be loud or dramatic.

    Gameplay — Smooth, Stylish, but Familiar

    If you’ve played Punishing: Gray Raven or Zenless Zone Zero, you’ll feel right at home. Black Beacon delivers fast-paced action combat with sleek animations, combo-driven mechanics, and fluid dodge timing. Each character moves with a sense of weight and precision, and switching mid-combo feels seamless.

    It’s responsive and cinematic, but not particularly groundbreaking—it follows the tried-and-true rhythm of stylish action titles, just polished to a shine. Still, the mix of flashy ultimates, well-choreographed boss fights, and challenging stages keeps things engaging even during grind-heavy segments.

    Gacha System — Surprisingly Fair

    Here’s where Black Beacon earns points: the gacha system isn’t predatory. Rates are decent, pity carries over, and premium currency isn’t locked behind extreme paywalls. It’s similar to early Punishing: Gray Raven, where free players could realistically build competitive teams through smart resource use.

    Performance — Still Needs Work

    Unfortunately, performance remains a sore point. Even months after launch, some mobile players (myself included) still experience crashes or frame drops on certain devices. There’s no official PC client, though some players have managed to run it on third-party emulators. This lack of proper PC support limits the audience and may hurt the game’s longevity.

    Community & Concerns — Is Black Beacon Bound for EOS?

    Even with its brilliance, Black Beacon is facing an uphill battle. Players on Reddit and Discord are worried that the game might face an early End of Service (EOS) if things don’t stabilize soon.

    “They said the new version will be delayed to mid-October. So we either get that or (more likely) an EOS announcement very soon.”
    — r/gachagaming

    “The story is really good. I’m sticking around until EoS and hopefully they get to finish it.”
    — r/gachagaming

    “I absolutely love the game! … I can’t ignore the doomposting, but games have been worse and survived.”
    — r/Black_Beacon

    With Version 1.3 still nowhere to be seen, the concern feels legitimate. Delays, dev silence, and lack of updates have left the community anxious, even though the story and presentation remain strong.

    As for me? I think we’ll just have to wait and see. If the developers can steady the ship and communicate clearly, Black Beacon still has a shot. But if things don’t settle soon—if the devs can’t get their act together—I believe this one might flatline eventually, which would be a shame. There’s so much potential here, but the lack of new content and PC support could break the game for sure.

    Verdict

    Black Beacon is one of those rare mobile games that genuinely feels artful. The story has soul, the visuals have identity, and the sound design ties it all together. It’s a modern myth, a digital scripture painted in gold and shadow.

    But brilliance can only carry a game so far. If the developers don’t bring stability and fresh updates soon, even the most loyal players will drift away.

    For now, though, Black Beacon stands as a stylish, story-driven masterpiece in danger of fading too soon—a bright flame in the dark, waiting for someone to keep it burning.

  • The Galerians Series – Disturbing, Unique, and Forgotten

    The Galerians Series – Disturbing, Unique, and Forgotten

    Some games scare you with monsters. Others disturb you with atmosphere. But then there are games like the Galerians series — games that make you uncomfortable because of the ideas underneath.

    Spanning the original Galerians on PS1 (1999) and its direct sequel Galerians: Ash on PS2 (2002/2003), the series is a one-two punch of sci-fi horror, drug-fueled survival mechanics, and tragic storytelling. For me, these games remain some of the most unique — and frankly disturbing — experiences I’ve ever had in gaming.

    1999: Horror Boom on the PS1

    Galerians Ps1 cover art

    By the time Galerians released in 1999 (Japan) and 2000 (US/EU), the PlayStation was already knee-deep in a survival horror golden age.

    • Capcom had just dropped Resident Evil 2 (1998) and Nemesis (1999).
    • Konami unleashed Silent Hill (1999) — redefining psychological horror.
    • Square dabbled with cinematic horror-RPG hybrids like Parasite Eve II (1999).
    • Capcom even turned dinosaurs into horror with Dino Crisis (1999).

    Everyone wanted a slice of the horror pie.

    So where did Galerians fit? Developed by Polygon Magic and published in the West by Crave Entertainment, the game wasn’t coming from the heavyweights. Crave was mostly known for mid-tier and niche projects — sports titles, racing games, even quirky experiments. But in the late ’90s, even they leaned into the horror trend, picking up Galerians because it stood out: no guns, no zombies, just psychic powers fueled by dangerous drug use.

    While the big publishers were polishing cinematic experiences, Crave doubled down on something raw and unsettling. It wasn’t the mainstream choice, but it gave Galerians its cult edge.

    My First Steps Into Galerians

    Booting up Galerians for the first time was like waking up inside someone else’s nightmare. The screen fades in, and you’re just… there. A sterile hospital room, cold and empty, and you have no idea who you are or why you’re strapped into this world of machines.

    Then it happens: a girl’s voice inside your head.

    “Rion… help me… find me…”

    It’s faint, desperate, and unsettlingly personal. You don’t know her. You don’t even know yourself. But that voice becomes your compass, sparking your journey into the unknown. (Later, the game reveals this telepathic voice belongs to Lilia Pascalle, Rion’s childhood friend — but at the start, you only feel the mystery.)

    And what a brutal start it is. Within minutes, I was already dying — overdosing on my own psychic powers, burning myself out with attacks I didn’t fully understand. Galerians didn’t want you to feel strong. It wanted you to feel fragile, broken, like a failed experiment stumbling forward.

    Each scrap of the world you uncover — medical files, cryptic documents, and eerie computer logs — becomes your only guide. There are no quest arrows, no tutorials, just survival and that haunting voice urging you onward.

    Stages and Bosses

    What makes Galerians so distinct is how each stage feels like a test, both in difficulty and in theme:

    • Michelangelo Memorial Hospital – sterile halls filled with former caretakers turned threats, a twisted introduction to your fragile powers.
    • Rion’s House – once a place of safety, now twisted by confrontation with Birdman, one of Dorothy’s “children.”
    • Babylon Hotel – chaotic, stylish, and home to brutal encounters with Rainheart and Rita, psychic foes as unstable as you are.
    • Mushroom Tower – the final climb toward Dorothy, the cold, godlike AI that orchestrates your suffering.

    Each boss isn’t just an obstacle; they’re living embodiments of Dorothy’s experiments, mirrors of what Rion could become. The game’s final stage, drenched in sterile dread, leaves you exhausted both mechanically and emotionally — and that’s before the ending revelations about Rion’s true nature.

    Galerians: Rion (2002 CGI Movie)

    A couple years later, fans got something unexpected: Galerians: Rion, a full CGI movie.

    Think Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within style visuals — glossy, cinematic, and way ahead of its time for such a niche horror property. The movie retold the first game’s story but streamlined it, cutting much of the exploration and emphasizing flashy psychic battles instead.

    The most controversial change was the ending. Where the PS1 game gave us one of the bleakest conclusions in survival horror, the film rewrote it to keep Rion alive — clearly paving the way for Galerians: Ash. For newcomers, it was a more digestible, “cleaned-up” retelling, but for players like me, it lost some of the raw edge that made the original unforgettable.

    2002–2003: Horror Evolves on PS2

    By the time Galerians: Ash launched on PS2 (2002 in Japan, 2003 in the West), the genre had shifted. Survival horror wasn’t just popular — it was splitting into blockbusters vs. experiments.

    • Silent Hill 2 (2001) rewrote the rulebook for psychological horror.
    • Fatal Frame (2001) introduced ghost photography as combat.
    • Resident Evil Code: Veronica X (2001) and Resident Evil Zero (2002) kept Capcom’s dominance strong.
    • Clock Tower 3 (2002) and Siren (2003) tried bold, experimental AI-driven scares.

    Enter Sammy Studios, who published Ash outside Japan. Sammy, better known for arcade hits, was making a push into console publishing. Backing a cult sequel like Ash was a gamble — but one that kept Polygon Magic’s vision alive.

    In Ash, Rion returns to face Ash, Dorothy’s terrifying final “child.” The environments are bigger, the visuals cleaner, and combat more polished — but the mechanics of psychic dependency remain. If anything, the sequel leans harder into the disturbing edge of the original, at a time when most horror games were chasing cinematic prestige.

    Why the Galerians Series Faded

    Both Galerians and Ash were outsiders in their eras.

    • On PS1, Galerians got lost among juggernauts like Resident Evil and Silent Hill.
    • On PS2, Ash was overshadowed by games that redefined the genre’s future.

    But more importantly:

    • Drug dependency as gameplay – Brilliant but controversial.
    • Edgy, bleak storytelling – No power fantasy, just tragedy.
    • Cult status only – Without mainstream traction, the series couldn’t sustain sequels.

    That’s why, in my opinion, Galerians won’t ever get a revival. It’s too raw, too edgy, and too tied to mechanics modern publishers wouldn’t dare touch.

    Playing Galerians Today

    Even if the series is gone, I still revisit it. My Miyoo Mini makes replaying Galerians on the go super nostalgic, though to be honest, I prefer my RG28XX most of the time — the horizontal form factor just feels better for those tricky trigger-based psychic powers.

    As for Ash, it’s comfortably sitting on my tablet and phone, where I chip away at it in short bursts. With Halloween around the corner, it’s the perfect time to step back into that bleak, oppressive world.

    Final Thoughts

    Galerians may never return, but maybe that’s for the best. It burned bright in its moment, dared to go where few games would, and left behind something unforgettable. For me, replaying it now isn’t just nostalgia — it’s a reminder of when horror games weren’t afraid to disturb you, not just scare you.

    And honestly? In a genre packed with monsters and gore, I’ll take one tragic psychic teen overdosing his way through the apocalypse any day.

  • These Ultraman Games Are So Bad They’re Legendary

    These Ultraman Games Are So Bad They’re Legendary

    If you grew up watching Ultraman, you probably dreamed of controlling those giant laser-beaming, monster-smacking battles. And on the PS2 and PSP, you got that dream… kind of. What we actually got were games so rough, so clunky, so awkwardly hilarious that they loop right back around into being must-plays.

    Let’s break it down.

    Ultraman Fighting Evolution (PS2)

    The promise? Kaiju wrestling in glorious 3D. The reality? Imagine two cosplayers in rubber suits trying to fight in slow motion while the cameraman spins in circles.

    • Controls: Feels like Ultraman is fighting underwater while wearing concrete boots.
    • Hit detection: Sometimes your punch connects across the arena. Sometimes it passes through like you’re a ghost. Flip a coin.
    • Animations: Every throw and fall looks like a bad stunt double missed the crash mat.

    But here’s why I love it: it’s authentic. Ultraman fights were never about fluid martial arts — they were about stiff moves, awkward grapples, and laser beams that may or may not hit. Fighting Evolution accidentally nailed that “rubber suit charm,” and I can’t stop grinning every time someone topples over like a cardboard prop.

    Ultraman Fighting Evolution 3 (PS2)

    This one? The “polished” sequel. Big story mode, more kaiju, better graphics. And yet, the soul of jank remains.

    The cutscenes try so hard to be epic, but half the time I’m just laughing at Ultraman giving serious speeches while looking like a plastic action figure. The story mode is wild — one second you’re reliving iconic battles, the next you’re thrown into a monster mash with zero explanation.

    Why I love it: this game is basically Ultraman fanfiction in video game form. It throws everything at you — drama, explosions, endless monster cameos — and I eat it up every single time. It’s the “Fast & Furious” of Ultraman games.

    Ultraman Fighting Evolution Rebirth (PS2)

    Now this one is the big one. Ultraman Fighting Evolution Rebirth (ウルトラマン Fighting Evolution Rebirth) takes everything the earlier games tried to do and pushes it further.

    • Story mode: Packed with dramatic cutscenes that almost convince you you’re watching a real Ultraman episode… until the stiff animations snap you back.
    • Gameplay: Still janky, still clumsy, still hilarious. But with more kaiju, more moves, and more finishers that look straight out of the TV show.
    • Fan service: This is the game where the developers clearly wanted to give fans as much Ultraman content as possible, and it shows.

    The only drawback? The colors are more subdued compared to earlier titles. It’s like the devs wanted to take things more seriously — darker tones, moodier palettes, less camp. But the moment you start a fight and deal with the bipolar AI or swing and miss at point-blank range, you’re reminded that at the end of the day, it’s still the same campy Ultraman game at heart, just with the brightness turned down.

    Why I love it: out of all the PS2 Ultraman titles, Rebirth captures that “so bad it’s good” balance the best. It’s bigger, more ambitious, and somehow even funnier when it stumbles. Plus, the finished animations are much more cinematic — well, as cinematic as an Ultraman game could be. If you only play one PS2 Ultraman game, make it this one.

    Ultraman 0 Portable (PSP)

    The jump to handheld should’ve made things snappier, right? Nope. It’s the same awkward goodness, just shrunk down.

    • The graphics try their best, but Ultraman looks like he’s made of shiny Play-Doh.
    • The AI is unpredictable — sometimes it lets you win by standing still, other times it wipes the floor with you in seconds.
    • The camera fights you harder than the kaiju.

    Why I love it: because nothing beats blasting a kaiju with a Specium Ray while sitting on a bus. It’s Ultraman in your pocket, and even when it’s broken, it’s still Ultraman. Plus, the ridiculous difficulty spikes make every victory feel like I actually saved the world.

    Lost in Translation: The Language Barrier Boss

    Here’s another curveball: none of these Ultraman games ever got an English release. Yup — goodbye instructions, goodbye tutorials, goodbye menus. The game just throws you in, full Japanese text, and says “Good luck, hero!”

    Your best bet to figure out what the heck is going on?

    • Stumble through the tutorial until Ultraman randomly decides he’s finished teaching you.
    • Use Google Lens like it’s your trusty sidekick.
    • Or go old-school and dig through GameFAQs guides. (There’s a full guide for Ultraman Fighting Evolution Rebirth out there — lifesaver!)

    That’s literally how I survived the tutorial stage — trial, error, and a lot of squinting. And honestly? It made the whole thing even funnier.

    Why They’re So Bad They’re Great

    They make me laugh harder than half the comedy games I own.

    They’re basically playable blooper reels of the TV show.

    They remind me why I love Ultraman in the first place: not because it’s flawless, but because it’s earnest, campy, and fun even when it stumbles.

    EZRetro’s Totally Biased Ranking

    Fighting Evolution Rebirth (PS2) – The ultimate janky masterpiece.

    Fighting Evolution 3 (PS2) – Peak drama, peak Ultraman energy.

    Fighting Evolution (PS2) – The OG mess, broken but charming.

    Ultraman Portable (PSP) – Bless its heart. It tried.

    Why i come back to it

    When I’m killing time at work, Ultraman Portable on my trusty RG28XX is my go-to. It’s discreet, perfect for blasting kaiju without anyone noticing, and it keeps me awake while waiting for my shift to end. For the bigger screen though, I skip the weaker PS2 entries and dive straight into Fighting Evolution Rebirth. It’s the one that makes me laugh, rage, and cheer all in the same sitting.

    Ultraman has starred in dozens of games across consoles — from platformers on SNES and Game Boy to RPGs, tactical sims, and even Pokémon-style kaiju battles. But in my opinion, nothing beats the fighting games. They’re clunky, campy, and packed with that rubber-suit wrestling energy that makes Ultraman so lovable. If you’re curious about the series, start with the fighters — they’re messy, hilarious, and the most fun you’ll have with Ultraman in game form.

  • A Beginner’s Guide to The Last Remnant’s Union System – Explained the Way I Understand It

    A Beginner’s Guide to The Last Remnant’s Union System – Explained the Way I Understand It

    Through the years, whenever my buddies ask me what game I’m grinding on my phone that feels long and epic, one of my top answers has been The Last Remnant Remastered on mobile.

    Now, don’t get it twisted—I’m no pro at this game. In fact, I’d still call myself a beginner even after all the hours I’ve sunk into it. But maybe that’s exactly why I want to talk about it. Because when I first picked it up, I was just as lost as anyone else, especially with the game’s biggest curveball: the Union System.

    This is my take on it—not as an expert, but as someone who slowly figured things out and wants to make it a little less confusing for the next beginner diving in.

    So What’s the Deal With the Union System?

    Before The Last Remnant, JRPGs mostly stuck to familiar formulas:

    • Classic Turn-Based (like Dragon Quest or Final Fantasy I–X) → You control each character one by one, pick from “attack, magic, item, defend,” and watch the turns play out. Simple and reliable.
    • ATB – Active Time Battle (popularized by Final Fantasy IV–IX) → Each character has a gauge that fills in real time. When it’s full, you act. It added pressure and speed to the turn-based formula.
    • FFXII’s Gambit System (2006) → This one let you pre-program AI behavior, like “if ally HP < 50%, then cast Cure.” It was revolutionary for letting battles play out more automatically but still under your rules.

    And then along comes The Last Remnant. It said: “Forget controlling individuals—what if you controlled squads instead?”

    That’s the Union System. Instead of giving commands to each party member, you organize them into unions (basically mini-teams). You don’t pick every spell or attack. You issue orders to the entire squad, and they act as one.

    This flipped combat into something totally different. Suddenly, you’re less like a hero leading a party and more like a commander directing armies. Positioning, morale, and squad synergy mattered just as much as raw stats.

    For some players, that shift felt groundbreaking. For others—me included when I first tried it—it felt confusing as hell.

    The Flow of Battle – What You Do Before You Even Swing

    The real fight doesn’t start when you press “attack”—it starts in how you set up your unions. As a beginner, this part felt overwhelming to me because you have to think about:

    • Who leads each union (leaders bring skills and arts)
    • Who fills the squad (soldiers add stats and stability)
    • What formation you’re using (offensive, defensive, or balanced setups)

    And then, once you’re in a dungeon or field, you also have to pay attention to enemy groups. Do you charge them head-on? Try to flank? Or split your unions to keep them from surrounding you?

    This whole “prep before action” makes fights feel more like mini war puzzles. If you mess up the setup, the battle feels 10x harder no matter how strong your characters are.

    Commands – The Clear and the Confusing Ones

    Once the fighting actually starts, the game gives you commands for your unions. Some are straightforward and easy to understand:

    • Attack with combat arts! → your melee moves
    • Attack with mystic arts! → your spells
    • Heal with remedies! → your items and recovery

    But then you get the vague stuff like:

    • Play it by ear
    • Go all out!
    • Wait and see

    And here’s where the frustration kicks in. As a beginner, I remember just staring at those and going, “What am I actually telling my squad to do?”

    How I Learned to Read the Vague Commands

    After a lot of trial and error (and a few rage quits), here’s how I’ve come to understand those vague orders:

    • Play it by ear → Think of it as “do what makes sense.” The union might attack, heal, or buff depending on the situation. Good for balanced teams.
    • Go all out! → Pure offense. They’ll blow AP, use their strongest moves, and ignore healing. Best for when the enemy’s on the ropes.
    • Wait and see → Defensive or conserving mode. They’ll defend, poke with weak moves, or just save AP. Use it when you’re setting up or trying to survive.
    • Save them no matter what! → Your emergency revive/heal button. Everyone drops offense to bring allies back.
    • Keep your HP up! → Focuses on healing and survival above all else.

    Once I started thinking of them like battle moods instead of strict commands, they made a lot more sense.

    Strategy – When to Use What

    Here’s my beginner advice on using these commands without losing your mind:

    • Use “Play it by ear” for balanced unions that can attack and heal. It gives the AI room to adapt.
    • Use “Go all out” when you know you’re safe or you just need raw damage to push through.
    • Use “Wait and see” to stall or when you’re trying to build AP for big moves later.
    • Use “Save them no matter what” sparingly, because sometimes it wastes turns if no one is actually down.
    • Use “Keep your HP up” when facing tough bosses or multiple enemy unions that can shred you in a turn.

    It’s not perfect—you’ll still sometimes scream at your squad for making dumb choices—but it’s part of the chaos that makes this system fun.

    Wrapping It Up – Why I Still Recommend This Game

    Here’s the truth: The Last Remnant is still hard to understand, even today. If you’re new, the Union System will feel overwhelming and the vague commands will confuse you. But once you get past that hump? The game transforms. Battles feel bigger, strategies feel deeper, and experimenting with different unions actually becomes addictive.

    That’s why I keep it on my phone. I’ve spent hours tweaking squads, retrying fights, and just enjoying the controlled chaos of this system. And yeah, the mobile remaster costs around $19.99, which isn’t exactly cheap. But for me? If I dropped twenty bucks and didn’t play it, that would be the real waste.

    So I keep coming back. And maybe that’s the magic of The Last Remnant: it doesn’t hold your hand, but once you start to get it, you’ll want to stick around and keep learning.

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