Astral Chain Review: ACAB Includes Neuron HQ

Astral Chain kicks ass. There really is no other way to say it. All the differing elements of combat flow together in such a way that it makes the player feel like they’re kicking ass, and that’s such an important thing for an action game like this.

First, you have the Legions, the creatures at the end of the eponymous chain which work at your command. You are slowly given access to new and varied Legions over the course of the game, each of which operates in completely different ways and change the approaches you can take towards each new battle. The initial Sword Legion you’re given access to plays wildly different from the later Beast Legion and Arm Legion, and switching between them as need arises becomes a core part of the gameplay.

The Astral Chain is another tool in your kit, as well. As skills are unlocked via your Legion, you gain the ability to wrap the chain around enemies and bind them in place, to jump through enemies and deal damage as you do, and even to electrify the chain to deal damage with mere contact. Positioning the Legion therefore becomes a thoughtful process not only of how it can inflict maximum damage, but of how much utility you can get out of the chain in the process.

It's really a shame about the rest of the game, then.

I entered into this knowing I would be playing a cop. I fucking hate cops. But it’s cops fighting at the end of the world against sci-fi enemies from another dimension, I told myself; surely I won’t be doing cop shit. Then as a part of a mission (near as I can tell, a mandatory part of a mission), I was tasked with arresting a graffiti artist. Were they a terrorist using the graffiti as a part of their plot, or a murderer who just happened to also be a graffiti artist? No, their crime was graffiti, and it ends there. All Cops Are Bastards, even at the sci-fi end of the world.

Astral Chain also suffers heavily in the narrative department, largely due to the strange choice of making the protagonist silent. I hate silent protagonists generally, but the trope truly is just intensely ineffectual here. Two major characters are your father figure and your sibling (brother in my case, as I always choose to play as a woman when possible), people whom you have known for your entire life, but even as your father sacrifices himself so you can escape, your character has no words of sadness, love, regret, or any other emotion. They have expressions of determination, hesitation, fear, but without vocalizing these emotions it comes off strange. Your brother taunts you through the bars of your jail cell, or lies comatose on a hospital bed before you, and your character will stand there passively, silent, allowing him or a doctor or some other character to exposit towards you in preparation for your next mission. The silence of the protagonist strips scenes of their emotion.

The other characters fare little better, often relegated to the background or as interactable NPCs in the police station between missions, usually one-note or even one-joke (such as Marie, a low-level officer who dons a dog mascot costume and believes no one knows it’s her under there). If you speak with them, there are relations between these characters, but little if any evolution happens for them over the course of the game. The villains are over-the-top and obvious on sight, even the one who’s supposed to be a twist for later. There’s nothing to really sink your teeth into in this game aside from the (admittedly brilliant) combat.

Which brings me to when I quit the game. Shortly after what I presume to be the midpoint of the game, you will enter Chapter Eight, which can only be called the minigame chapter. You arrest a second graffiti artist, you walk around taking pictures of buildings, carry stacks of boxes from one location to another while slamming your controller through the screen due to how poorly designed and overly sensitive the controls are, and solve inane car sliding puzzles. I hated this, truly despised it, and this was the point where I turned the game off. My interest was already waning, as it became clear that the only thing the game had to offer me was a solid combat experience and the disgusting taste of being a cop, and Chapter Eight sealed the deal.

So is Astral Chain worth playing? Obviously I think it’s worth giving a shot. Maybe you can stomach playing at cop, aren’t overly interested in narrative, and won’t laugh as your character sits quietly while their sibling gloats about finally one-upping them. It was too much for me, but I don’t regret spending as much time with the game as I did. So go for it. Just don’t expect any more than a good combat system.