Press Start may receive a commission when you buy from links on our site at no extra cost to you.
For so many, myself included, Returnal was the first real plunge into what we’d call “next-generation.” It was, for me, the first compelling reason to invest in PlayStation’s strategy of premium exclusivity—a bullet hell roguelike that blends mystery and masochism into a neat, albeit punishing, package. Saros, that game’s spiritual successor, places a great emphasis on putting progress and replay value at the forefront, all the while serving as the single most riveting argument for coming back stronger again and again. Saros is PlayStation’s newest killer app, and it’s one that players have been dying for the last few years.
And dying, funnily enough, is what players will do plenty of in Saros. However, unlike Returnal, which, at times, felt like a case of diminishing returns, where progress felt so far away, Saros ensures that the player will take away something tangible each time—something more than the experience and teachings themselves.
Set on the shapeshifting planet of Carcosa, in a universe separate from the one found in Returnal, Arjun Devraj, played by Rahul Kohli, seeks not only answers about what happened to the Soltari colony that came before his, but he also seeks somebody important—it’s clear that, for him, the mission is personal. Though I’ve been critical of Kohli in the past, particularly for his work in Stray Gods, Kohli has the gravitas of a leading man here; his gripping performance capture made it easy to ride along with his character’s highs and crushing lows.
The most compelling character in Saros, however, is Carcosa itself. It feels ancient, alien, and truly alive. To fit right in with the game’s roguelike structure, the world shifts and contorts itself to make every run different from the last. It’s absolutely entrenched in mystery and allure, and I found myself desperate to learn more about the world. Saros is almost a tale of two worlds, though, as Carcosa, during certain parts of each biome, falls under the cover of an ominous eclipse, brought on by Arjun’s folly. Under this striking, blotted-out sun, the world’s creatures hit harder, spreading a corruption that drastically dents your resilience while increasing yields of Lucenite, the game’s experience currency that helps set Saros apart from Returnal.
The aim in Saros is to make death meaningful and to, as per the game’s marketing, “come back stronger.” Whereas death in most roguelikes means a clean slate for the next go around, Saros has implemented permanent progression to ensure players are better, faster, and stronger for the next attempt. As someone who did find Returnal to be a little too punishing, I think this is a harmless step that’s geared at making the game that little bit more accessible to a wider audience without sacrificing the challenge entirely.
Lucenite can be dispersed throughout upgrade nodes along the skills branches. There’s a branch for resilience, one for shield, and one for drive, which determines your experience yield rate. Of course, those upgrades will be quickly sought out by people suffering from the challenge that is Saros; however, there are other, more advantageous types of unlocks that might let you start a run with a cache key, or revive yourself for a second chance at life. In a concerted effort not to have players grind and render the game’s unforgiving world frivolous, the upgrade path gates at overlord nodes, which block progress behind certain bosses, which I think is a very smart decision. Saros is designed to give you all of the tools you need to succeed at any given point.
These upgrades are funnelled through Primary, a Soltari installation whose corporate interests clash immediately with Arjun’s people-first ideologies. Another feature of the hub area’s central figure is the World Dial, a helpful fast travel system that lets players loop back to whichever biome they’re wanting to visit; whether they’re pursuing their objective, which is made clear at all points in Saros, or returning to the Shattered Ruins, the game’s first zone, to search through uncombed nooks using new skills. Not only does this keep players in the action, but it also eliminates so much frustrating backtracking and unnecessary footwork.
The combat is the meat and potatoes of Saros, which doubles down on the frenetic, arena-focused firefights that made up the core loop of Returnal. With a creative range of weapons that can burst, charge, or even ricochet off of walls for a unique angle of attack, it’s the return of the bullet ballet I’ve been so excited for. It’s Housemarque’s bread and butter; there’s no other team that could make combat feel this rewarding. Each fight was like a siren’s song, calling me into battle with its pull-forward gameplay. As is so often the case with bullet hell games, movement and flow are essential ingredients, and it’s one Housemarque gets absolutely right. Navigating an arena using Arjun’s dash and jump feels swift and precise, and the expected order of things—taking out ground adds, shielded turrets, and aerial enemies—begins to feel reflexive and second-nature.
Unique to Saros is perhaps the coolest bit of Echelon kit, the Soltari shield. As an all-gas, no brakes kind of player, I was constantly forgetting about this new, defensive “get out of jail for a hot second” card. Though it isn’t impervious to all incoming projectiles, being able to absorb and convert a fair share of them into power is a novel concept that further deepens Arjun’s trick bag. Granted, it feels like another plate to spin mid-combat, but it’s the great difference maker when it comes to staying alive on Carcosa.
Exactly like Returnal, weapon proficiency balloons the deeper you make it into a run; you earn temporary buffs for streaks of not getting hit, and artefacts collected throughout a run stack and, over the course of a twenty-minute burst, transform you into a killing machine. Like everything else beneath the eclipse’s darkened sky, artefacts become more dangerous, corrupted, and more of a risk and reward proposition. While there’s always an upswing, like dealing more damage after a dash, they also come with a negative trait, such as taking heavier fall damage. Knowing, to a degree, what was ahead of me and how my style of play had been evolving, I found myself becoming more selective with artefacts; it’s a tantalising push and pull that can make or break a run, tending to very much favour the bold.
The hands-on time I got with Saros took me through the first two big areas, Shattered Ruins, an open-air, dilapidated city of relic stone and brutalist monoliths, and Ancient Depths, a more curious underground network of machine and security systems. As you’d expect, the level design, whichever variation of it you happen to get, is sumptuous. Like Returnal before it, the game is a spectacular collision of art and technology. So much of it feels plucked from the sketchbooks of Giger, but it’s truly a technical showpiece for a system presumably, based on typical lifecycles, nearing the end of its run. Saros is a visual barrage of spectacular gunfire, particle effects, and lighting which, at the flick of a switch, turns Carcosa into a baleful version of itself.
As expected, even the most basic enemies can be pretty harrowing, but, as with pretty much all things on Carcosa, they’re made even worse by the eclipse. The old adage notes that the bigger they are, the harder they fall, but what’s also true is that they drop more shit—this extends to mini-bosses that enclose you with them in their solar cage. These brief, tense encounters become a kind of cat-and-mouse game, which differs greatly from the bigger area bosses. Like Returnal, these multi-phase clashes bring together the level’s learnings and pattern memorisation before relying on the player’s picture-perfect execution.
With Returnal being one of the most immersive and intoxicating atmospheres I can recall in a video game, I expected Housemarque to fire on all cylinders here, and they do. In terms of game feel, the haptic feedback provided by the DualSense gives a tremendous sense of power and engagement. I loved the rhythmic drumming of projectiles against your Soltari shield, as well as the respective, radically different firing patterns of each gun.
While the haptics are integral to maintaining a feel for Saros moment-to-moment, I feel it’d be nothing without its audio design. No other game since Returnal has so confidently warranted the use of a good pair of 3D headphones; for a game that constantly has you in the thick of it, the directional audio is invaluable. Beyond that, Sam Slater’s soundtrack is crunchy, sonically enormous, and irrationally hard as fuck, full of wailing guitars and droning that makes everything feel bigger.
Returnal was our Game of the Year when it came out, and Saros has somehow managed to eclipse it. It’s telling a much bigger, more personal story, and I admire the team’s laser focus on removing the frustrating roadblocks and keeping players on a forward march. It feels like a natural, swaggering step forward from a team that is determined to keep the arcade fire burning.
The article’s author was flown to Japan by PlayStation to attend the preview event for Saros.