You play as Yi, a former member of the enigmatic Solarian Council of Ten Sols. Mysteriously left for dead at the hand of another Sol, Yi is awoken 500 years later, set on a path of vengeance against those who've wronged him.

A vague introduction, an even more vague revenge plot, and unfortunately, a mystery that isn't really presented as one: the history of Yi and his people, the circumstances that drive him, and the nature of the world around you are so unknown and equally compelling as you begin to explore the derelict halls of New Kunlun; however, all this couldn't be more familiar for Yi and most everyone he interacts with, resulting in a narrative that feels almost like a sequel to something that doesn't exist. Characters are constantly spewing out all manner of unfamiliar names and terminology without a whiff of introduction, blurting out seemingly huge revelations in casual conversation, and ultimately leaving me feeling as though I'm the only one woefully out of the loop. All I could do was slowly try to piece together the relevance of everything from technology to whole eras of history based largely on assumption; only in the finale did everything begin to haphazardly come together, and even then, it was mostly off the back of an awkward and somewhat tactless lore dump found in those final hours.

New Kunlun is evidently a considered, intricate world brimming with purpose and lore, it's thematically engrossing—the sci-fi, industrial environments blending seamlessly with the traditional eastern motifs—and it's filled with engaging and relatively complex personalities complimenting and clashing with that of Yi's; however, for how much of a focus narrative is in the overall package, and coupled with generally stiff, often long-winded and overly technical dialogue, the delivery and execution of this world and its stories leaves more than a little to be desired.


Thankfully, the same couldn't be any less true for Nine Sols' extraordinary combat. The Sekiro comparison is apt: outside of his standard three-hit combo and nifty dodge offering a good amount of temporary invulnerability, Yi's combat prowess centres primarily around his parry and subsequent Qi Blast—a riposte built not around the typical stamina or posture systems, with punishes presented on a silver platter and playing out largely on its own following a few precise deflections, but rather dependant on an opening you find yourself, providing massive damage after attaching and holding a talisman for a moment until it detonates, all while your foe is free to respond and interrupt you as they please.

It's a far more engaging, refreshing and challenging approach to this style of combat that really feels like a proper back-and-forth. It's all very approachable, too, sporting highly telegraphed and easy-to-read attacks, generous parry windows, and even an imperfect parry that has Yi suffer only 'internal' damage, a sort of grey health lost after taking the full force of another attack, or recovered by subsequent perfect parries alongside potentially other sources with the right build.

On that note, Nine Sols ports over Hollow Knight's classic charm system essentially verbatim, with which you can slot Jades, offering all sorts of passive benefits into a limited number of slots, with more powerful ones generally taking up more space. Honestly, the options aren't all that inspiring, usually providing benefits too minor to really notice, and it's a similar story with the skill tree, tending to offer 'more charges of this' and 'more damage on that' over something a little more exciting and bespoke. Nevertheless, I'd say it's generally for the better, as in the context of a combat model that so dutifully spotlights the fundamentals, these additions give just enough room to make a build and playstyle that feels your own, yet they're not so outlandish that they overshadow that core of battle.

And the parry really is the core of battle, not some tacked-on gimmick the likes of which you see in so many similar titles. It's so abundantly clear that the parry came first, followed by everything else, and you can see that intent most noticeably in the enemy design: there's admittedly not a whole lot of variety, and they don't come equipped with many moves either; however, coupled with some intelligent distribution, there's a beauty in that repetition. The constant exposure to the judiciously slim roster gives ample opportunity to fully dissect the attack patterns and parry windows of each adversary, and the subsequent sense of rhythm, flow, and mastery that comes as you cleave through New Kunlun emboldened by that knowledge and experience is unmistakable.

It's just really smart and satisfying game design, and no better is it demonstrated in the utterly brilliant boss battles. Whether it's testing your proficiency with a recent Metroidvania-style unlock or showcasing an entirely different and completely fresh style of encounter, each major story boss is wholly unique, creatively rich and executed flawlessly. Their difficulty feels perfectly calibrated, too, each sequentially upping the ante and culminating in a final boss so demanding, yet so spellbinding, that it genuinely stands out as one of the single finest boss encounters I have ever played. It's pure poetry in motion and a battle so exceptional in every facet of its design that even had the rest of the game been a complete disaster, I'd still likely be recommending it overall.


Exploration and level design largely keep up the quality: each area is stunning and visually distinct, their layouts are equally varied and broad, offering a great deal of verticality and hidden nooks, and what you find in those secret side paths is almost always worth the trouble, from significant boosts to Yi's combat capabilities to various giftable artefacts, fleshing out some of the relationships between him and his allies. It's not perfect: almost every location is pervaded with some form of bothersome gimmick, from finicky moving platforms covered in hazards to enemies that can't be killed to connecting, warping passages that fail to make any logical sense, and, although they're mostly manageable, they don't add much, if anything, and ultimately somewhat sour the otherwise stellar exploration.

Nonetheless, Yi is a pleasure to control, his developing moveset containing many of the usual Metroidvania suspects, and chaining together his various acrobatics is a wonderfully responsive, punchy and smooth experience. There are a good few dedicated platforming sequences leveraging each new unlock, too, and although they're not the most rousing ones out there (save one superb mid-game gauntlet), they're still an excellent change of pace and make moving from A to B that little bit more lively.


Despite stumbling slightly in its exploration and a little more so in its narrative, Nine Sols' electrifying combat model is hands down one of the best the Metroidvania genre has to offer, and it truly defines the overall package. It's the kind that invites you not to think but to surrender to your instincts; each parry and riposte flow effortlessly from the fingers, and the feeling as you flawlessly pressure bigger and badder bosses is utterly magnetic. From its gorgeous hand-drawn backdrops and animations to its elaborate and diverse level and world design, Nine Sols is a clear labour of love, an instant classic, and a title I strongly recommend.

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