When I first booted up Shadow Labyrinth, I expected another classic metroidvania experience—the kind where you get lost in intricate maps for hours, discovering secrets that completely transform your gameplay. Instead, what I found was something that starts off surprisingly linear, almost holding your hand through the first five hours. Now, I've played my fair share of 2D metroidvanias, from Hollow Knight to Bloodstained, and that initial linearity isn't necessarily a bad thing. In fact, it can help ease players into the mechanics before throwing them into the deep end. But here's the thing: Shadow Labyrinth takes this approach and stretches it to its limits, and not always in a good way. During those first few hours, you'll encounter forking paths, sure, but they mostly lead to upgrades or secrets that feel more like minor detours than meaningful exploration. It's only later that the game truly opens up, giving you multiple objectives and the freedom to go wherever your abilities allow. On paper, that sounds fantastic—who doesn't love non-linear exploration? Yet, as I spent more time with the game, I realized that several factors keep it from reaching the heights of genre giants.
Let me break it down a bit. The early linearity isn't just a design choice; it's a double-edged sword. On one hand, it helps newcomers get accustomed to the controls and basic mechanics without overwhelming them. I remember thinking, "Okay, this is manageable. I can see where I'm going, and those upgrades tucked away in side paths feel rewarding." But after a while, it starts to feel restrictive. Unlike games such as Ori and the Blind Forest, where the world feels alive and interconnected from the get-go, Shadow Labyrinth's initial hours can drag. You're essentially on rails, and while there are secrets to uncover, they don't significantly alter your progression. I clocked in about five hours before the game finally let go of my hand, and honestly, by that point, I was itching for more freedom. When it finally opens up, it's like a breath of fresh air—you're given multiple objectives, and the map expands dramatically. But here's where the cracks start to show: the transition isn't as smooth as it could be. Suddenly, you're thrown into a sprawling labyrinth with little guidance, and if you're not careful, it's easy to get lost or stuck in areas that feel unfairly difficult.
Now, I'm all for a challenge—I've 100% completed games like Dead Cells and enjoyed every frustrating minute of it. But in Shadow Labyrinth, the difficulty spikes feel arbitrary at times. For instance, when I reached the first major open section, I had three objectives staring back at me. One required a double-jump upgrade I hadn't found yet, another was guarded by enemies that respawned way too quickly, and the third involved a puzzle that, frankly, felt more tedious than clever. I spent a good 45 minutes just backtracking, trying to figure out which path was the "right" one, and it sucked the momentum right out of the experience. Compare that to something like Metroid Dread, where the progression is so finely tuned that you always feel like you're moving forward, even when you're exploring. In Shadow Labyrinth, that sense of flow is often interrupted. And don't even get me started on the secrets. Sure, finding an upgrade behind a hidden wall is satisfying, but when those upgrades don't significantly impact your gameplay, it starts to feel like busywork. I found roughly 70% of the secrets in my first playthrough, and I'd estimate only about 30% of them actually made a difference in how I approached the game.
Another issue that holds Shadow Labyrinth back is its pacing. Metroidvanias thrive on a delicate balance between exploration, combat, and progression. Here, the combat is serviceable but lacks the depth of its peers. Enemy variety is decent—I encountered around 15-20 different types in my playthrough—but their patterns become predictable too quickly. Boss fights, which should be highlight moments, often fall flat. I remember one boss in particular that took me three tries to beat, not because it was challenging, but because the hitboxes felt off. When I finally defeated it, my reward was an upgrade that felt underwhelming. It's moments like these that make me wonder if the developers spread themselves too thin. The art style is gorgeous, no doubt—the hand-drawn backgrounds are some of the best I've seen—but it can't carry the entire experience. I'd trade a few of those pretty vistas for more responsive controls or tighter level design any day.
So, where does that leave us? Shadow Labyrinth has its moments of brilliance. When everything clicks—when you find a sequence-break that the developers probably didn't intend, or when you stumble upon a secret area that actually rewards you with something meaningful—it feels amazing. But those moments are few and far between. For a game that promises non-linear exploration, it often feels like it's fighting against itself. The first five hours are too restrictive, and the later freedom comes with its own set of problems. If you're a hardcore metroidvania fan, you might find enough here to enjoy, but if you're looking for something that stands shoulder-to-shoulder with genre classics, you might walk away disappointed. In my opinion, Shadow Labyrinth is a solid 7/10—flawed but with enough heart to warrant a playthrough. Just don't go in expecting it to redefine the genre.
