#cryocrits

Making a hard game often presents more difficulty than anything the game itself has. The line between fair challenges and unfair nonsense is thin when making something brutal to master. Impressively, Rabbit & Steel not only treads this line with minimal error but does so while innovating two different genres and expertly leaning into its strengths to eliminate its flaws.

Rabbit & Steel’s core gameplay revolves around bullet hell gameplay set against a rogue-like structure. These two styles mesh perfectly as they revolve around perfecting one’s gameplay and continually making progress.

However, the tedium of repetition appears immediately. Every area—except the first and last sections—features the same fights in the same order. While this is mitigated by the randomness in areas one visits during a run, one still duels the same foes every time.

While a lack of replayability would condemn any rogue-like to an early grave, Rabbit & Steel lessens this by focusing on its other mechanics. Most fights have multiple attack patterns, and the difficulty in dodging these attacks can vary wildly depending on one’s class. Combined with the plethora of builds crafted from combining classes and loot, this grants the game innumerable experiences from one fight alone.

Fights only become more complex and challenging when playing on multiplayer. Despite the higher offensive capabilities of a group, enemies bring more HP and attacks where players take damage for other people’s sloppy maneuvering to the table.

Whether one plays solo or with others, every fight becomes a dance of precise positioning and offensive output. The game continually demands group cooperation and encourages players to consider adventuring with friends or by themselves.

The presentation also works perfectly alongside the gameplay. The storybook-like style and modern Final Fantasy-esque soundtrack are great at creating an atmosphere that doesn’t distract or detract from gameplay while remaining distinctive and delightful.

Rabbit & Steel also brilliantly encourages the player to keep pushing forward with its design. Clearing an area often unlocks something, whether it’s a new class, loot, or songs from the game’s OST. It’s a system that rewards every step towards progress and encourages one to try again even if they’re stuck on the same fight and haven’t finished a run in ages.

Gameplay loops like this live and die by balancing, and Rabbit & Steel keeps the challenge fair thanks to its loot. One will only end up with six of the dozens of potential items by the time they reach the final boss, and that equipment doesn’t always help. However, terrible RNG doesn’t guarantee defeat and good luck doesn’t automatically grant victory. Player skill often—yet not always—stands above one’s luck, which is impressive to see from a game where higher difficulties introduce strict timers and nearly unavoidable attacks.

The smoothness of the gameplay also makes fights feel fair. Moving your character is swift, snappy, and satisfying. Encounters like the boss of King’s Arsenal take perfect advantage of this tight gameplay as they flood the screen with attacks that are tricky—yet not impossible—to dodge.

Some parts of the game demand borderline ludicrous reflexes, though. For example, the boss in the Red Darkhouse loves to use attacks that give the player about three seconds to determine how to evade an attack that will cover almost the entire screen. The game rarely fails to put the onus of improper dodging on the player, but moments like this fight feel like the equivalent of someone tossing a brick at the player’s head and then shouting “Heads up!”