Remnant 2 Review

Let's Fight Till the Root Do Us Apart .

As soon as your boots hit the cracked streets leading towards the fabled Ward 13, you're immediately brought back to a dying world that is anything but welcoming. You start your journey on a crumbling Earth as per usual, where you meet the last faction holding the line against the remnants of an apocalyptic invasion that doomed humanity, among which you see many familiar faces that are, surprisingly enough, still alive and kicking, and with lots of stories to share if you're willing to stay awhile and maybe listen. From the outset, your interactions with the game's semi-ramshackle hub serve as a grounding point in what lies ahead, offering a small community that is predictably counting on you to be a hero and do the impossible once more.

However, despite the introduction sounding like a trek down the déjà-vu lane, you're no longer the destined savior from the first game, but you're still here on a mission to accomplish feats few mortals are capable of, keeping that "chosen one trope" very much alive. After getting your bearings together, you'll soon step through the first world-hopping gateway, where it becomes clear that Earth is the least of your worries this time around, as the Root, aka the parasitic cosmic nightmare that's been gnawing on reality since the first game, remains the centerpiece of the universe's problems, even though its hold on Earth has dwindled.

As a sequel that wanted to outgrow its scrappy origins, you can feel the ambition of Remnant 2leaking like a faulty faucet from no earlier than the very beginning. It steps into the room knowing its predecessor earned cult status, and it obviously intends to build on that legacy with weirder worlds, harder enemies, fancier weapons, and a narrative stitched together with the expectation that fan theories and speculations will do the heavy lifting for it to stay afloat.

For the players who came in expecting a game that builds upon the foundation it set up years ago, but with many more ways to die, then Remnant 2 undoubtedly delivers by staying true to the premise it laid on the table with the announcement trailer. What it offers is nothing short of a direct upgrade over everything it had in store, having improved upon several of its core mechanics thanks in no small part to years of catalogued feedback, which was used rather ingeniously to address common complaints and ultimately sharpen its systems.

Still, I must say that there have been waves of mounting discontent with things such as how the gameplay bends around procedural elements, with certain areas hiding layers that the majority of players will never experience, the multiverse twist that loses its luster after the first planet you visit, and a latent feeling that the "Soulslike with guns" formula failed to adapt to modern standards. The truth is, the game does lean somewhat heavily into the philosophy that not every run needs to be identical and not every secret should be solvable with intuition alone, and depending on who you ask, that's either brilliant or terrible design, but we'll get back to this later if you're curious about my verdict.

In any case, once you step through your first World Stone and the scenery snaps into something completely unrecognizable, the game's hook tightens with the reminder that you're here on unfinished business, and it is now show time. What pulls you deeper isn't just the threat of a looming catastrophe up ahead but the way the game frames you as another wildcard—a nobody suddenly chasing cosmic entities while refusing to be erased, retracing the steps of those who came before. That's a brisk summary of the juice that gets us moving, and moving forward, we will dissect what makes Remnant 2 a literal buffet that surpasses its predecessor for some people, while for others, its pitfalls risk halting the experience into a total drag.

Developer: Gunfire Games

Publisher: Gearbox Pub.

Release Date: July 25, 2023

Platforms: PS5, PS4, PC, Xbox SS/X

Genre: Adventure, Action, Shooter, RPG

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A Journey Shaped by a Coin Toss: Piecing Together the Unsaid .

Following the tradition of storytelling that doesn't rely on walls of text to clue you in, Remnant 2 leans on a recipe that dares you to fill in the lore gaps yourself. That's because the game knows exactly how much it can get away with by letting its environments do the talking, and so it assumes you'll eventually be willing to meet it halfway, trusting that whatever it chooses not to show outright will be felt through atmosphere and implication. That said, the underlying tone remains cryptic, and if you arrive hoping to get some sweet answers, you should know that plenty of questions that haunted players after the first game remain unanswered, and even a few of the new mysteries introduced here don't receive anything close to a satisfying conclusion.

That ambiguity naturally fuels theories that a third installment is on the horizon, as that's the logical conclusion one must reach in hopes of seeing the semblance of a connection between the dots that Remnant 2 gestures towards but doesn't fully address. The story rambles in circles and occasionally takes some wild detours, offering just enough substance to stir curiosity, with the worlds themselves feeding into that instinctive urge to press deeper in search of answers the game refuses to hand over easily. From ancient temples overrun by crimson vines to alien wastelands orbiting a gargantuan black hole, each realm picks up the slack by giving you breadcrumbs that hint at connections the narrative never fully commits to exploring.

On the flip side, the game's faith in its procedural systems sometimes borders on bizarre, making luck factor in oftentimes to the detriment of the overall experience. You'll run into encounters that create random difficulty spikes or awkward lulls in pacing, almost as if something is missing to tie the loose ends together. The idea behind these mechanics is meant to surprise players, keep them guessing, and make each run feel unique, but unpredictability without intention can backfire spectacularly, with stupidly rare events that most players likely won't even know exist unless they spend more time combing through online content than playing the game itself.

The usual rebuttal for these claims is that this randomness boosts replay value, and while that's undeniably true, it also means a large chunk of content ends up locked behind the whims of dice rolls you have no meaningful control over. For instance, the randomization sometimes obscures proper level design behind arbitrarily shuffled set pieces, and certain encounters tread dangerously close to unfairness when the random-number generator machine stops acting in your favor. While these pitfalls don't sink the whole experience, they definitely leave some ugly dents you can't unsee once they catch your attention, as unfortunate as it is.

The underlying brilliance of the worlds we visit is that they feel surprisingly cohesive, with each realm revealing landscapes both soaked in personality and heavy with atmosphere.

Then there are the moments when the game tries to be clever simply because it can, with hidden paths with no visual cues that they exist, puzzles that are nearly impossible to decipher, and certain secrets being tailor-made for dataminers. Although some players can relish the torment of hunting down answers designed to test the limits of their sanity, others will slam into the difficulty wall and wonder if accessibility was sacrificed just to maintain an aura of mystique that only a small percentage of the audience will be able to appreciate.

Too frequently, you'll need borderline psychic deduction skills just to open a door guarding loot you can see but can't really access even after looking around, leaving heaps of gear unobtainable unless you miraculously stumble on the solution or surrender to the wiki. This scarcity of clear guidance pushes these secrets into outright frustration—it's cleverness with a cost that isn't always worth paying. The intention behind this design is solid, yet the potential falls just short of greatness when you realize how much content the average player won't ever see, even if they're dedicated to thoroughly exploring everything they can reach without the power of knowing-it-all.

That's to say, the game's best toys are locked behind an investment curve most people simply won't commit to, and that's a shame for a title brimming with creative ideas that don't materialize due to poor execution of its concepts. Still, credit where it's due: when these systems work, the payoff can be reasonably generous—your efforts often reward you with unique gear that bends your build in unexpected ways, offering satisfying synergies that wouldn't feel anywhere near as valuable if the game didn't choose to bury even worthless treasures behind convoluted layers of challenge.

At the end of the trail, you're left with a game that gives off intense experimental vibes that stays capable of transcending its mismatched parts when everything falls into place once in a while. Unfortunately, its wider structure doesn't always manage to keep up, occasionally slipping into a "more is more" mindset that throws complexity at you because complexity always sounds impressive on paper, even when the payoff is usually dubious. It's a game that's messy, magnetic, frustrating, and consistently enthralling, and that contradiction is precisely what makes Remnant 2 so hard to pin down and even harder to walk away from despite its numerous shortcomings.

The Pulse of Unforgiving Combat: Yet Even More Things to Slay .

The moment bullets start flying to the corners of the screen, that's when you know you're back in business—the gunplay remains the bedrock that carries the same heavy thump the series is well known for: punchy, tactile, and surprisingly readable despite the visual chaos that often blankets the screen. Right off the bat, what really elevates these skirmishes is how the opposition behaves, as enemies don't just rush blindly at you; they flank, swerve, feint, and use their environments to keep you in a state of constant recalibration. It's a dance that rewards instinct as much as preparation, with the tempo shifting dramatically depending on the world you're thrown into.

Needless to say, that energy seeps straight into the weapons themselves. The arsenal sprawls far beyond the usual lineup of boomsticks, offering everything from sidearms and long guns that twist combat rules in ways you only understand after firing a few rounds to melee options that received proper support, being vital components for some of the strongest builds in the entire game. There's an immense joy in picking up a firearm that looks like a joke and realizing it's actually a miniature apocalyptic tool in your hands. More importantly, the game doesn't punish curiosity, as swapping gear mid-run never feels like you're throwing away progress; instead, it opens up avenues for experimentation, letting builds mutate on the fly rather than trapping you in a narrow identity.

Switching gears, the progression systems all clamor for attention, each one eager to prove its worth the moment you delve deeper into the tinkering strats. Since the game flexes harder its RPG ambitions this time around, while also being geared towards multiplayer co-op, you can feel the growing pains of a design team stretching its toolkit while still figuring out how far those tools should bend. Aiming higher than last time, it brings a wealth of ways to customize your character and fine-tune builds, and together they form a web of progression that gives you plenty of room to fiddle, optimize, and occasionally overthink every stat point you drop.

That's where archetypes step into the spotlight, giving the entire structure a dose of clarity. Each one offers a distinct lens through which to approach fights, and stacking them together creates a sense of ownership over your tactics that the first game only hinted at. They reshape your playstyle in ways that feel meaningful, and the upgrade paths, while convoluted at times, allow you to carve out an identity without locking you into a single strategy. There's an undeniable thrill in realizing a build you put together through means of improvisation actually works, especially when it melts a boss that previously felt untouchable.

The game's mechanics reveal a mixture of old-school grit and modern design, pulling heavily from established ARPG playbooks with just enough personality to stand apart.

Then there are the weapon mods and prism fragments, also known as the grease that keeps the combat machine running smoothly, allowing you to sculpt your approach to fights with surprising nuance. Some mods act as emergency buttons, others alter the pace of engagements entirely, encouraging offensive bursts or calculated retreats. Meanwhile, the prism offers passive enhancements you can obtain after downing powerful foes, and when combined, the whole system gains just enough spice to turn every encounter into pure mayhem.

Going back a few steps, the enemy design complements these systems with a level of brilliance that every so often borders on malicious, with every creature, humanoid or otherwise, being built to either pressure-test your reaction time or drag you into sweaty slugfests that leave you questioning why you didn't bring a bigger gun. It's worth mentioning that the game rarely serves you with recycled ideas, to the point that even similar enemy archetypes pick up new tricks as you hop between worlds, keeping the experience from going stale.

As for boss encounters, they lean into mouth-watering spectacle with varying degrees of success. At their best, they're chaotic monstrosities you need to slowly whittle down by focusing on their weak spots, being tuned to make you rethink your entire build on the spot at times, but there's always a sense that one small adjustment could flip the entire script. Plus, even the easier fights retain an element of tension that keeps them from falling apart, as every boss likes to throw in at least one attack designed to punish complacency and remind you that you're never fully in control. This balance makes boss fights one of the most memorable aspects of the gameplay loop, even when the design occasionally veers into bullshit territory, leaving you prone to the occasional unfairness.

Even if not a lot changed in relation to the first game, the combat loop stays together through sheer force of personality. It's extremely engaging from start to finish, propped up by systems that strive to elevate the best moments and cushion the worst. Some elements wobble under pressure, others overstay their welcome, but the foundation is strong enough to give the entire experience momentum. Even in its messier stretches, the game's relentless commitment to variety keeps the ride from ever feeling predictable, and that unpredictability becomes part of its charm.

Final Thoughts: Apocalypse Will Have to Wait a Little Bit Longer .

What becomes clear as you ease into the latter half of Remnant 2 is that you can finally take a deep breath now that the early-mid game turbulence is over, at last. The pacing steadies out in a more forgiving rhythm, fights feel a lot less like disgusting coin flips, and the game's previously jagged learning curve gives way to a much smoother and enjoyable ride that's impossible not to appreciate. Looking at it from above, it's a trajectory that pays off, as the final stretch lands with the kind of confidence that suggests the developers understood the curve they were sculpting, even if the path getting there wasn't always an elegant one.

Even when the procedural layering gets overzealous, there's an odd sense of cohesion to the places you explore. You can tell at a glance when the algorithm is starting to falter, but the worlds still manage to settle into shapes that give the impression of being sewn together to the point of appearing to be handcrafted. Of course, the seams may be painfully visible if you go looking for them, yet the overall illusion remains intact well enough that the experience doesn't have to suffer for it, never becoming a big headache for anyone even mildly inconvenienced by the lack of predictability.

These eccentric compositions end up reinforcing the game's identity, giving each playthrough that slightly off-kilter flavor that keeps the adventure from sliding into something forgettable. What would feel like sloppiness in another title ends up reading as character here, lending every session a sense of unpredictability that only becomes more appealing the longer you let it simmer. And since narrative sits in the passenger seat yet again, its presence pairs nicely with the game's randomized nature, as it ultimately ends up serving more as connective tissue than a driving force in our journey. Either way, the story carries a certain charm despite its outer clunkiness, stitching together worlds and conflicts with enough intrigue to keep you invested without bogging the action down.

As a direct continuation of the series, it's obvious that Remnant 2 honors the foundation with style and, more importantly, without being trapped by it like binds, refining the formula where it counts and expanding where the first game left some bits of untapped potential on the table. Needless to say, while it doesn't reinvent the franchise's identity from the ground up, it's almost always willing to push further than you'd expect at a first glance. In other words, that means fans of the original will find plenty to latch onto, while newcomers get to understand why this universe is able to sell like hotcakes regardless of divisive opinions about the game's quality.

And in terms of value for those interested in diving into the game, I have to say that this is not the kind of experience you pick up for a weekend and put down forever; it thrives on the idea that players will return, refine builds, test new worlds, and keep nudging the boundaries of their own skill. Those looking for a one-and-done cinematic ride might find its structure a bit sprawling, but I'm sure that for anyone who enjoys carving out their own pace will appreciate how much there is to dig into, with the sheer amount of permutations baked into the game translating into an infinity of oddball interactions you almost can't try them all in a single lifetime.

In general, I have to say that some players, mainly the ones who crave a rigid structure or airtight polish, might end up dropping the game for one reason or another, but generally due to a few eccentric design choices that stand out and can't really be overlooked. But if you enjoy mastering systems as much as I do, can appreciate some good ol' guns galore, and can't help but find ingenious ways to overcome encounters that don't always play fair but also rarely fall into bland territory, then I can affirm the experience delivers far more highs than lows, standing tall in the niche it carved for itself, being quite frankly almost impossible for you to mistake it for anything else.

A wildly varied arsenal and build system that constantly encourages experimentation while rewarding improvisation.

Enemy and boss encounters deliver tense, dynamic combat scenarios with unique patterns that keep each fight memorable.

Worlds feel distinct and atmospheric, using environmental storytelling to deepen immersion without slowing the pace.

Strong replay value supported by unpredictable world layouts that keep every run feeling fresh and slightly unhinged.

Procedural generation can create uneven pacing, with abrupt difficulty spikes or dull stretches dictated by dumb luck.

Some secrets are so cryptic they border on inaccessible, pushing players toward external guides to stay within the curve.

Progression systems sometimes stumble into clutter, mixing depth with occasional overcomplication that slows momentum.

Narrative threads gesture at intrigue but rarely pay off, leaving major questions floating around with little meaningful closure.

Remnant 2

A brutal shooter bursting with variety, wild ideas, and chaotic charm. It hits hard, stumbles sometimes, but still manages to deliver an addictive loop built around experimentation, tension, and a constant urge to dive back in for just one more run.