"Sekiro" is tremendously attractive. Don't let that fool you.
Despite its soft colors and rural trappings, "Sekiro" is a game where danger is around every turn. It's tremendously easy to be killed by even the weakest enemies. Similarly, items for regaining health are in low supply.
This results in a world that is inherently suspenseful, where a single wrong move could easily lead to losing any progress made.
For a lot of people — the millions of people who've played and enjoyed the spiritual predecessors from the creators of "Sekiro" — this level of suspense is a draw. For me, the punishment that creates the suspense is a major deterrent.
Since all the enemies respawn each time you die (or save), I spent a lot of time replaying the same enemies over and over. This is a pillar of the "Souls" games, and I expected it from "Sekiro." Still, just like the acclaimed "Souls" games and "Bloodborne," the grind of repetition wore on me.
I appreciate what "Sekiro" is, just like I appreciated previous From Software games. I've also never finished a single one.
Above all, "Sekiro" is about mastery.
As a samurai game, "Sekiro" is centered around sword fighting. Mastering your movement and swordplay is absolutely critical to progression.
You play as a Shinobi, a rogue agent tasked with protecting a young heir of royal lineage. He's kidnapped after your character loses a sword fight — and his arm. Thus, your quest to save him begins.
Between you and him is about a trillion different types of enemy, from vicious packs of guard dogs to master samurai to literal giants. Learning how each of those different enemies work, and how to kill them without taking a single hit, is the first step in a very long, very steep staircase of mastery demanded by "Sekiro."
Along the path up, I died so, so many times. And each time I did, my will to persist diminished just a little bit more.
"Sekiro" is clearly an exceptional game. But after 15 hours of banging my head against the wall, I never want to play it again. Maybe.
"Sekiro" is incredibly impressive. Let me be completely clear that I wholeheartedly recommend this game to anyone who even remotely likes any of the "Dark Souls" games, or anyone who enjoyed "Bloodborne."
Heck, if you're a "Ninja Gaiden" fan, you'll probably love "Sekiro." It is clearly a well-designed, gorgeous, complex game.
It is also devastatingly difficult, and the number one way it punishes players for messing up is by robbing them of time. If you're silly enough to rush through an area, "Sekiro" is happy to remind you with a sudden, swift death that, no, there is no rushing through this game. "Do that area again!" it shouts. "No rushing!"
That's totally fine. It's intentional! I get it. I just don't want to do it anymore. I can't do it. Even though I'm still thinking about how, you know, if I just maybe try one or two more times to take down that boss I'm stuck on, I could probably do it. Maybe?