Sing, oh Muse, of the madness beyond the reach and eyes of mortals! Where magic and mayhem intertwine, and the fates of all rest upon the shoulders of an entity shunned by most, reviled by few, and revered by all. The chessboard of fate moves pieces both unwillingly and unknowingly, shaping a future that is tragic and wild, speculative and certain. All of these words are deeply confusing and borderline contradictory, and, let’s be honest, feels like I’m vamping for the sake of showing off that I saw a park performance of Oedipus Rex once in twelfth grade. This is the central feeling of Metaphor: Refantazio, which has now come confidently strutting onto the Nintendo Switch 2. It’s a Game Key release. There’s no additional perks other than some pre-order DLC. And Ocarina of Time just dropped. But Metaphor is two things: unapologetically bold, and unequivocally interesting.

This message brought to you by the society to legalize psilocybin.

When we first took a look at Metaphor: Refantazio way back in December of 2024, there was a lot to be said about the game in terms of storytelling and execution. An elaborate tale of political allegory, racial discrimination and the clash of classes told through the medium of medieval Persona elements, Metaphor is not an easy pill to swallow. You will have to go through several hours of exposition just within the first beat of the game, and you might have to invest nearly a work shift’s worth of time before you get to the meat and potatoes of it all. Having said that, the undercurrent of watching a people unwillingly give up their own potential happiness in order to reinforce long held prejudices seems to be even louder nowadays. The aspect of the throne being awarded to whomever the people deem most worthy…could feel better under different auspices.

Moreover, Metaphor is wholly committed to delivering information on its own schedule, at its own pace. There were more than a few times that I felt like I had missed something important regarding a story turn or a character’s sudden and dramatic personality shift, and the game…did nothing. It kept moving forward with the confidence of a long time NASCAR driver who has completely left the track and is now crashing through a Cracker Barrel. There’s an awe-inspiring level of “hold on or get off” to the momentum of Metaphor, and it actually comforted me in a few instances. As spells, magical beings, deep lore and alternate dimension brain melting just keep coming at you, it becomes almost expected to be confused. If I was fully aware of what was transpiring, then what’s even the point of an Atlus game? Do you really think anyone understood Strange Journey?

Gallica looks upon the hordes of fanboys who are THRILLED this port didn’t launch at sixty dollars.

It took an extraordinary amount of time to really get a hold on the game, and that’s not because it’s difficult to control or master. The issue, from my perspective, is that Metaphor is so different from the Atlus titles you might associate with it, but still maintains the shadows of familiarity. The magic system reaches out towards the depths of the Shin Megami Tensei and Persona spells, complete with the same names and effects, but there’s no monsters to tame or hire. You need to build relationships and connections, but these serve to further the interest of the protagonist and the party members, not necessarily develop an ancillary connection that births side missions. The relationships, instead, are borderline crucial to achieving the final goal of the game, and the penalty for not connecting well enough is dark and heavy.

Yet the jaunt through Metaphor continues to erode its own rough edges, and you gradually become more accustomed to all the aspects of the game. The necessity to continually interact in different facets becomes easier to get into. The exploration, while vast, is surprisingly fluid to navigate, especially thanks to the mechanics of the map, Gallica’s radar-like ability, and the stamina-free running mode. Be sure, though, if you want to really experience the game, to avoid setting the difficulty to story mode. As comfortable as it is, it’s a little too much of a downgrade to the challenge of battle and leveling. It’s a more refined game style to simply set it to easy and ratchet up and down as you level and encounter more of the unlocks that the Archetypes bring.

Oh, and I freaking adore the autobattle system. Earthbound is one of my favorite games of all time, not just because it’s bizarre and endearing, but because, after a certain level, you can end fights before they even begin, reaping low but still important experience at a rapid pace. Metaphor’s strike system isn’t quite as robust in the EXP department, but it still lets you know when you’re essentially “in the zone” by letting you strike down everything that waddles towards or away from you. It’s a perfect conduit: either you slay the monster instantly, or you get the jump on them and can land one blow before the mix gets messy. While the actual combat is fairly bread and butter, there are a few status ailments and additional effects that make for some interesting times.

Plus, a solid beatdown feels just as satisfying as it did in any other Atlus title.

One thing that I couldn’t quite get over was how spectacular the menus looked. I know the Persona series has specialized menus to match the aesthetic of each game, and, if you enjoy the pop art style of Persona 5, then Metaphor feels starkly different. There is something about the impossibly big, brash way the menus snap and appear that really appealed to me for Metaphor. Each individual section feels like it was carved out by a team who needed to create a parade-float of a background image or have their homes burned down by tengu arsonists. The grandiose nature of it all is really evocative and enrapturing. We’ve gotten used to games having sprawling, almost daunting maps, but this is something where the game’s personality seems to overextend, and I adore it. It lends to the idea that the battle for the crown is the most important thing ever.

Additionally, and this is a big disagreement with the original review, but I love the soundtrack. Game scores run the gamut of what’s to be heard and expected, and Meguro Shoji tends to swing for the fences with every one of his compositions. The eclectic nature of the pounding drums and the frenetic, unstoppable chanting fills the room with power and madness. When you pull back and look at the game – a story of vaguely humanoid beings transforming into demigods to punish and push back against abominations that border on eldritch – the composition feels perfect. It’s painted with shades of ancient fury, intertwined with the sensation that this primal approach to lyrics is broadcast in a modern language that still transcends understanding. When you include the choral inclusion of Glory Chorus Tokyo to invoke the feeling of divinity, this whole soundtrack hits in an emotional way; emotional, not tearful.

I still appreciate how a game can feel so big on a portable system.

To be blatantly honest, Metaphor is like hiring a sherpa to throw you down a mountain. The ground is rough, your skin is torn, and the repeated blows about the head can severely impair your quality of life. But every third tumble, you hit just the right angle to see it all. To take in a view that a person could only dare to dream of with wings of an angel that enfold you at the moment of death. Slamming back into the unforgiving earth does nothing but to further elevate the beauty when next you hit the zenith of your most painful, glorious downfall. Metaphor: Refantazio is not my favorite of the genre, but holy hells is it one of the most memorable. 

Metaphor: Refantazio is available now on PC, PlayStation 4/5, Xbox Series X|S, and Nintendo Switch 2.

Reviewed on Nintendo Switch 2.

A copy of Metaphor: Refantazio was provided by the publisher.