Metaphor: ReFantazio Review | RPGFan
Back in 2016, following the release of Persona 5, Atlus announced the creation of a new development team, Studio Zero, tasked with developing an entirely original game. Originally announced as Project Re:Fantasy, the game was to take place in a medieval fantasy world, with only a few pieces of concept art accompanying the announcement. For years, details about the project remained scarce—until last year, when the game finally received an official title and release date. Eight years later, I can confidently say the wait was more than worth it.
In contrast to many of Atlus’s other games, Metaphor: ReFantazio takes place in a medieval fantasy world, specifically in the United Kingdom of Euchronia, a confederacy consisting of three kingdoms: Montario, Oceana, and the suzerain, Euchronia, centered around the royal capital of Grand Trad. In the game’s opening, the reigning king of Euchronia, Hythlodaeus V, is assassinated by Count Louis, a cunning, tyrannical royal army officer gone rogue. Consequently, a chaotic succession crisis follows. The Prince of Euchronia and heir apparent to the throne is presumed dead after a curse 12 years prior and disappearing some years later.
Luckily for the kingdom, the prince still lives, trapped in a curse-induced coma far away in a forest sanctum—a fact known only to his childhood friend (the protagonist) and his fairy companion, Gallica. Together, they travel to Grand Trad on a covert mission to assassinate Louis and lift the curse on the prince, restoring him to the throne. Unfortunately, the king planned for the contingency of his death in his last days.
In the ensuing chaos, a unique form of royal magic gets unleashed, and the royal palace rockets into the sky, with its earthen foundation exhibiting an engraved, fiery image of the king’s face. Staring down at the royal capital, the late king’s earthen image announces that the next king shall be chosen by whoever has the most support in just over four months, on the Day of the Hero. Thus begins a race for the throne, and you enter into this contest aiming to restore the rightful ruler to power.
These events are just within the prologue, but this is where Metaphor: ReFantazio excels the most. From the outset, it establishes an extremely compelling, exciting, and grand setup that it executes flawlessly—most notably through its world design, lore, and character writing, all of which contribute to a truly phenomenal narrative and atmosphere.
Central to the game’s setting is the concept of magla, which exists in all natural beings and gives rise to magic; however, no one can use magic innately, and it must be channeled through “igniters,” a tool only available to the wealthy or elites. From the minute you step into the capital, this caste system is readily apparent.
The world consists of eight primary tribes: the Clemar, noted by the horns on their head, and the Roussainte, sporting long, elf-like ears, are the ruling tribes of society. They’re the most numerous and hold most of the power. The bestial-like Paripus, seen as hedonistic and impulsive, and the mask-wearing Mustari, deemed heathenistic pagans, occupy the lower ranks. The protagonist belongs to the rarest “ninth tribe,” the Elda, considered heretical inheritors of forbidden, dangerous magic and bearing no distinguishing features, making them the lowest possible caste.
From the very first hours, Metaphor: ReFantazio pulls no punches regarding tribal disparity and discrimination—both of which are undercurrents to a prevailing, oppressive atmosphere. As I arrived and walked through Grand Trad, aware of my covert mission, nearly every interaction left me feeling othered, and I was shocked at the vicious insults hurled from every direction. Random citizens hiss and jeer, their ridicule and slurs both audible and visible in text blurbs on screen. Gallica recoils at the sheer hatred directed towards the protagonist.
As I rounded the corner to find an inn for my mission, a cutscene played with a Paripus man lynched at the gallows, all with eager crowd hooting and hollering. Above the city towers the Regalith Grand Cathedral, a recently built megalith which is a testament to the omnipresent Sanctist Church’s power—the same institution that deems the Elda to be inferior beings. Even further up, the king’s view lasers down from above, glaring at the population menacingly. The setting and atmosphere are immediately powerful, and very few games have left a stronger first impression.
What most impresses is the story’s pacing and consistent delivery of incredible moments, even after leaving the capital with your two allies, Hulkenburg, a disgraced Roussainte knight, and Strohl, a fallen Clemar noble. At the first major stop after Grand Trad, the party finds itself in Martira, a castle town plagued by a serial killer and child abductions.
While playing this section of the game, I was pleasantly surprised by how it subverted my expectation of the party head-hunting a large monster for the tournament. Instead of what I anticipated, the game delves into something far more sinister, with political and social undercurrents subtly heightening the tension. This unexpected shift does wonders for the world-building, making the segment feel even more ominous. Although there are some moments later in the story that I found to be eyebrow-raising, I was thoroughly satisfied with how every plot thread wrapped up by the end.
At every major juncture, I was astonished at how well the characters were written. Hulkenberg and Strohl initially do not convey their plans to one another upon leaving Grand Trad, and the party does not start off feeling cohesive or like they trust each other. They organically grow together over the course of your adventure, and the game is much better off for it. Even non-party side characters you meet along the way reveal something new about the world, either tribally, politically, or historically.
As you travel, you gain “followers,” with whom you can form bonds. I think every single one of them was extraordinarily well-written, gripping, and several of them could stand alone as full stories. Throughout my entire playthrough, my only real qualms with the game were the conclusion to one follower bond and a major late-game character, who I felt was slightly rushed and didn’t receive enough screen time or development.
Between the followers and your party, one other theme of Metaphor: ReFantazio shows through. In one way or another, everybody, to varying extents, is affected by discrimination, hatred, and strife in the world. The one thing uniting them all in the seemingly democratic tournament for the throne is the theme of hope. Small interactions during the few quiet moments of the adventure, often when meeting a new character, frequently build and touch on this theme.
The protagonist carries a fantasy novel that describes a utopia—one where everybody’s voice counts, with equal treatment for all, and where towers of glass rise into the sky. It sounds a bit like an ideal version of our world. Very often, when the protagonist shares the vision from the novel with others, they either balk at it or dismiss it as a bittersweet but unrealistic fantasy.
Metaphor: ReFantazio’s title directly refers to its theme of reality versus fantasy. It repeatedly asks the world’s characters and even the player: what is the ideal society? What does a utopia look like? Can fantasy become reality? It would be very easy for the game to drown in cliché and even come across as preachy, but I did not find that it did.
The game’s world and themes, as the title indicates, are a metaphor for our own, but the writing remains focused on the core plot. The musings on this subplot never overshadow the grander plot, and characters with firm ideologies shaped by their negative experiences aren’t magically swayed by the protagonist’s vision from the book. All in all, the subplot culminates in a way I think is masterful and truly profound—something far exceeding my initial expectations.
It is worth mentioning that another character, More, also holds a copy of the lead character’s same book. Locked away in a mysterious study called Akademeia, More exists in a hermitized, unknown location and the protagonist meets him early on through dreams. More understands the power of “Archetypes,” that is to say, the group’s (eventual) ability to use powerful magic without an igniter. His presence as a watchful guide and tutor adds a very pleasant, mysterious undertone to the plot, as he seemingly knows much more than the characters in the world.
More also serves as a narrator for the traveling segments between game locations, which underscores one of the game’s best elements—its voice acting and soundtrack as a whole. The English voice-acting cast, quite simply, is phenomenal. More’s narration alongside your travels is well written and delivered with a delightful airiness and verbosity befitting a storybook. It makes the entire journey feel like a fantastic pilgrimage and the game’s atmosphere is all the better for it.
I don’t think there is a single weak performance in the entire game. Particular standouts include the adorable and endearing Gallica and the game’s antagonist, Louis, who has a confident, chilling performance that makes him even more terrifying. I also enjoyed the bespoken fragility of Maria’s performance and the eccentricity of the gauntlet runner’s pilot, Neuras. My only disappointment is I didn’t feel like there was enough voice acting; several very emotionally moving scenes in multiple follower bond episodes would have significantly benefited from voicework.
The soundtrack is likewise superb in environmental and battle themes, with the latter standing out in particular. The frequent and eccentric use of soaring, often chaotic vocal choirs, which befit the turmoil occurring in Euchronia and its sister states, unites the entire soundscape. Every location has a memorable theme that lifts the atmosphere—Grand Trad has blaring trumpets, a brass section, and a vocal choir, whereas the quiet Martira opts for flutes and string plucks. My favorite pieces in the game are the multiple battle themes, which are thrilling and elevate the gameplay and battles to new heights.
Battles and the character progression system are other elements, fortunately, that Metaphor: ReFantazio excels at. At the basic foundations of gameplay, including the Press Turn system from the Shin Megami Tensei series is already a massive benefit, as it lends the game fantastic predicate for strategic depth.
Another element of basic combat I enjoy is that, compared to the modern Persona games, enemies are not stunned or downed by hitting their weakness—they simply take more damage, and you use half of one turn icon instead of a full one. You benefit from exploiting weaknesses, but not too much, which helps the game feel balanced. You also stand to lose much more from haphazardly launching spells or attacks at enemies should they absorb or reflect them, which helps keep you on your toes.
In battle, the group has the power of “Archetypes,” which manifest as “heroic embodiments.” Essentially, these are like classes or jobs from a traditional RPG. There are 14 different base Archetypes which splinter off into dozens of unique jobs—all of which can apply to any character. I was initially worried about becoming overpowered due to this flexibility, but the game very quickly assuaged my concern due to each job having a narrowly defined role. Although skill inheritance can help slightly expand these roles, I think Metaphor: ReFantazio very fairly limits and gives players just enough flexibility.
Metaphor: ReFantazio also does not waste your time, which is remarkable considering its length. There is a notable element of overworld combat where enemies have a color-coded strength, indicated by a glow from Gallica’s “Fae Sight.” Enemies significantly weaker than you can be felled in the field without entering a turn-based battle. You still gain experience and progress, but you are not forced to fight enemies five levels lower than you. This choice maintains balance, which is a feature I greatly appreciate.
That said, the game occasionally goes too far in offering convenience, particularly with the assist and retry features. The assist feature allows you to automatically target an enemy’s weakness using a skill already in your arsenal, and while this does save time, I feel it would have been better introduced later in the game, once you have more Archetypes to manage. The retry feature lets you restart any battle from the beginning—even boss fights—which feels like an excessive power, as it reduces the stakes and intensity of battles by allowing you to undo strategic mistakes. Since the game already includes difficulty settings, with the easiest mode making you invincible, I believe these features should be baked into the difficulty options.
The best element of Metaphor: ReFantazio‘s battle system is the inclusion of synthesis attacks. Essentially, a knight and mage may come together and, at the cost of two turn icons instead of one, you can unleash a special, powerful lightning hammer attack. These attacks add an entirely new layer of strategic depth and it feels like the party must work together and use every resource to succeed in battle.
This is especially evident in the late game, where you have full use of your Archetypes and need every tool in your arsenal to succeed against specific bosses, which are some of the best encounters Atlus has formulated yet. While I do feel the late game suffers slightly from a lack of enemy variety, bosses keep the game at a generally high level of enjoyment. My desire for more diversity, especially in some of the later dungeons, only speaks to how much fun the gameplay is and how a little more variety would have helped its brilliant Archetype system flourish more.
Archetypes and their synthesis attacks are also beautifully animated, creative, and downright impressive, which speaks to the game’s attention to detail and visual quality. Spells and attacks look fantastic, as does the game in general. Atmospherically, the creativity and design choices lift the entire game.
Stepping into Grand Trad, it isn’t just the music, story, or characters that amaze me, it’s the sheer immensity of the architecture, the details of the city, and its gargantuan scope. Homeless citizens lay crying on the street, the streets are awash with activity, and posters and litter line the slums. Throughout the entire game, every location is dripping with style and inspiration.
Although every location has its own unique feel and appearance, Port Brilehaven, better than any other location, speaks to how thoroughly magical the world looks and feels. Magla crystals float through the air, and the sky has this charming watercolor style serving as the backdrop for the impressive locations. Environments make fantastic use of color choices, as well. The best example of this is during the events in Martira, where a silhouetted, shadowy enemy with beaming red eyes stalks you through a dungeon as the lights go out. The lighting and graphical choices here elevate the chase into a moment that had me on the edge of my seat.
As you journey through the world on your quest to garner favor, the game also has quieter moments where you stop to view some of the world’s magical anomalies and sights. The sheer creativity and gorgeousness of these places is simply outstanding, and between these locations and More’s narrations, I was always excited to reach the next location and learn more about the history, culture, and people who live there.
Unfortunately, a few towns outside of major cities are only backdrops with a menu, which can be a bit disappointing, especially considering how interesting their lore and concepts are. However, I find that they do well enough fleshing out the world on their own, and my desire to see more speaks to how well the designers crafted the world and its inhabitants.
As a final note on the game’s graphics and design choices, character designs and a whole host of enemy designs are also tremendously fascinating. All the tribes are visually interesting and distinct, especially the Nidia, whose iridescent eyes and hair are strikingly beautiful. Both the main and side characters are visually distinct and memorable.
With respect to enemies, the human designs—which are demonic creatures that take on visual elements of people—are also extraordinarily inspired and fearsome. Many of Metaphor: ReFantazio’s bosses left me stunned at just how bizarre their designs were, and it gives the game a distinct, unique identity.
Metaphor: ReFantazio is Atlus’s crowning achievement—a culmination of the best elements from their past titles and across the RPG genre. The Press Turn system, combined with the genius of the Archetype and synthesis facets of battle, creates a thrilling, strategic, and well-balanced battle system as you face off against one incredible boss after another. The impressive moments never stop, never cease, and the utterly magnificent plot is paced perfectly, with no dull moments. A cast of wonderfully written characters carries us through a magical, cohesive, and alluring fantasy world lifted to dizzying heights by a bombastic score and stunning visual design.
Atlus has shown that fantasy is not dead.
