Some games take a while to warm up, and Metroidvanias practically turn that into an art form. They start by gently handing out the basics, then halfway through, open the floodgates of creativity and mastery.
These aren’t just platformers with keys disguised as abilities; they’re journeys where the deeper the player goes, the better things feel. Whether it’scombat systemsthat evolve into graceful chaos or movement mechanics that make backtracking feel like speedrunning, these are the Metroidvanias that keep surprising long after the first boss is dead.
This one doesn’t hit with spectacle right away. Instead, it creeps in with quiet melancholy, delicate piano notes, and a world drowning in grief. But what starts as a lonely trek through haunted ruins slowly becomes something more intricate and hauntingly beautiful. The real trick lies in howEnder Liliesbuilds its combat. Players start with just a spectral knight to swing a sword for them, but soon, they’re juggling a roster of fallen spirits, each with their own movesets and quirks. Some are better for bosses, some excel at crowd control, and switching them mid-fight becomes second nature.
Movement follows a similar arc. At first, it’sbasic platforming. Then come the double jumps, dashes, wall climbs, and late-game teleportation skills that make traversal feel like an elegant dance through tragedy. Lore isn’t dumped either; it’s dripped slowly through item descriptions and optional encounters, inviting players to piece together what exactly caused the Rain of Death and what role the mysterious White Priestess plays in all of it. By the end, it feels less like a simple side-scroller and more like an elegy in motion.
Nobody sees it coming.The Messengerstarts like a straightforward 8-bit action platformer with Saturday morning cartoon humor and wall-clinging ninja antics. Then, halfway in, the entire structure explodes. It turns into a time-traveling, 16-bit Metroidvania with nonlinear exploration and one of the mostfourth-wall-shatteringmeta narratives in the genre. The moment the soundtrack changes to reflect the leap in console generation is pure serotonin for retro fans.
But the real genius lies in how backtracking is handled. Thanks to time portals that flip the level design between two eras, returning to old areas isn’t just necessary, it’s clever and fun. Hidden upgrades are tucked behind puzzles that players didn’t even realize were puzzles the first time through. And that quirky shopkeeper who tells random stories? He becomes oddly integral to the entire lore.The Messengerdoesn’t just get better with time; it transforms in front of the player’s eyes.
Samus Aran has been through enough, and inMetroid Dread, she finally acts like it. From the cold open where she’s completely overpowered by a Chozo warrior, to the way she silently stares down threats without flinching, this is the most hardened version of her yet. And her growing arsenal backs that up. What starts as a desperate crawl through the E.M.M.I.-infested zones becomes a rapid-fire ballet of bombs, beams, and brutal counters by the end.
Combat inDreadgets sharper with every ability added. Parrying becomes second nature. Shinesparking returns and is more satisfying than it’s been in years, especially when solving environmental puzzles that almost feel like platforming speedrun trials. And then there’s Raven Beak, a final boss that doesn’t just test skill, but demands mastery of everything learned so far. The pacing is tight, the progression is addictive, and by the time players loop back through earlier zones with a full toolkit, the whole map feels like a playground.
Koji Igarashi might’ve leftCastlevania, butBloodstainedmakes it very clear that he brought the soul of it with him. Miriam’s journey through the demon-infested castle starts predictably, but the farther players get, the more absurdly deep it becomes. By the halfway mark, the ability list is overflowing with shard powers stolen from enemies ranging from basic fireballs to controllable familiars, flying chairs, and literal lasers.
Crafting systemsopen up too, offering recipes for everything from stat-boosting meals to entirely new weapons that feel wildly different from each other. And movement? Slow and floaty at first, but by the time Miriam is air-dashing, double-jumping, and flipping gravity to walk on ceilings, it’s a completely different game. There’s even a giant stained-glass window that players have to launch themselves through to reach a hidden area. That’s the kind of ridiculous, over-the-top funBloodstaineddoubles down on as it goes, and it works.
At first glance,Axiom Vergefeels like a straight-up Metroid clone, right down to the isolated alien planet and retro pixel art. But Tom Happ, the solo developer behind it, pulls off some strange magic. This is a Metroidvania that gets glitchier, weirder, and more layered as it progresses, and intentionally so. The first few upgrades are simple enough: drill through walls, shoot a wider beam, standard stuff. But then comes the Address Disruptor, a gun that can corrupt enemies and environments alike, bending them in ways that feel like actual code manipulation.
Enemies mutate. Platforms reassemble. Hidden rooms phase in and out of existence. And just when it seems like the world map has been fully explored, a second, alternate version of it opens up, complete with its own rules.Axiom Vergerewards curiosity in a way few others do. It doesn’t hold the player’s hand, but it does give them the tools to break its world in the best way.
Few sequelsimprove on their predecessoras confidently asOri and the Will of the Wisps. The art direction is still jaw-dropping, every frame looking like it belongs in a storybook. But under the beauty is a combat system that’s been overhauled into something surprisingly deep. Spirit shards allow for real-time build tweaking, and the melee system makes every hit feel tactile and satisfying.
Traversal is where it really starts to sing though. Once Ori gains access to Bash, Grapple, Burrow, and Launch, platforming becomes an aerial ballet of inputs. There’s a late-game section involving sand, momentum, and chained dashes that feels like conducting a symphony with button presses. But none of it ever feels out of place. The emotional arc keeps pace with the mechanical one, and by the time it all crescendos in the finale, it’s hard not to sit in silence at the end credits.
At first,Hollow Knightfeels too quiet. Hallownest is big, yes, but sparse. Then the layers start peeling back. The map grows denser. Shortcuts connect. New regions open in directions that weren’t even visible before. And the Knight’s moveset, initially just a basic slash and jump, starts accumulating with wall jumps, air dashes, double jumps, and eventually the absurdly stylish Shade Cloak that lets players phase through enemies and hazards alike.
Boss fightsscale up too, from simple bugs to screen-filling nightmares that demand pixel-perfect dodges. And that’s before entering the White Palace or taking on the Path of Pain, both of which feel handcrafted to humiliate anyone who thought they’d mastered the controls. But here’s the kicker:Hollow Knightdoesn’t even force players to do most of this. The best content is buried deep, optional, and waiting for those willing to dig. And they always do. Because by the time players have spent 20 hours in Hallownest, they’re not looking for an exit; they’re looking for reasons to stay.
