What wasn’t on my bingo card was that Sega brought back Shinobi back in 2025. It always felt like one of those names from the past, something you occasionally see mentioned in a documentary about the golden age of arcades, or a character popping up as a nostalgic costume in another game, but never as a full new release. That is why I was curious but also skeptical when Art of Vengeance was announced. Reviving a series like this is tricky, especially because memory often smooths out the rough edges of the old games and leaves you with an ideal that never really existed. On Xbox Series X, though, this new Shinobi surprised me. It is not flawless, and there are things that frustrated me, but the overall experience was stylish, challenging, and consistently fun.
The most immediate impression the game leaves is visual. Screenshots already made that clear, but playing it on a big TV in motion was something else. The backgrounds have a hand-painted quality, full of detail and color without ever drowning you in noise. It is striking in a way that makes you stop in the middle of a level just to look at the design choices. Rooftops at dusk, bamboo forests cut by narrow paths, industrial complexes buzzing with red neon, every environment feels like it was considered not just as a stage for combat but as part of the identity of Shinobi. The Series X handles it all with clarity and stability, which is important because this is a game that depends on flow.
Combat is where the revival truly earns its place. If the art direction catches your eye, the mechanics keep you in. From the first few fights, I could feel how carefully everything was tuned. Attacks connect in a way that feels immediate, but the real strength comes from how those moves link together. Within an hour, I was no longer thinking about pressing buttons; I was thinking about space and rhythm, dashing between enemies, parrying attacks, canceling into Ninpo techniques, and finishing off groups with executions that looked stylish but never felt like they interrupted the momentum. There is satisfaction in the timing and in the sense that the game rewards you for being deliberate.
It is not just about slashing either. Amulets, Ninpo abilities, and gradual upgrades shift the way you fight. At first you are grateful to have a ranged option like shuriken to keep distance, but later you are layering fire techniques into aerial combos or using parries that reflect volleys back at enemies. The more you experiment, the more you realize how open the system is. That flexibility is what kept combat interesting hours later. It never slipped into repetition for me, because there was always a new way to approach a situation. Even when I had to replay areas, I found myself testing different routes through the same group of enemies, which gave those encounters new life.
Level design borrows lightly from the metroidvania playbook. This is not a huge labyrinth, but the structure is more flexible than pure linear stages. In the early hours, it feels like corridors that happen to have secrets tucked away, but once you unlock new skills the maps start to loop and recontextualize themselves. Returning to a zone with an ability that lets you break a barrier or climb higher paths gives you a reason to look again. It is not groundbreaking, but it suits the style and gives the game enough variety to avoid feeling like a straight run from left to right. I liked that balance because it honors the arcade roots without feeling stuck in them.
Not everything in the design is equally polished. The most obvious weakness is the platforming. Sometimes it works exactly as intended: wall jumps feel sharp, rooftop chases flow beautifully, and there are sections where the game almost turns into a movement challenge, and those were highlights for me. Other times, the same mechanics betray you. Hitboxes can be inconsistent, ledges sometimes reject an input you were sure you landed, and certain optional challenges push that weakness into frustration. I had a few moments where I restarted, not because the challenge was fair, but because the system was less reliable than the combat. That unevenness is why I cannot score it higher. It is not a disaster, but it is noticeable.
The story is serviceable without being memorable. Joe Musashi is once again pulled into conflict after his clan is attacked, and the villains are a mix of shadowy corporations and old rivals. It moves the action forward but does not leave a big impression. I never found myself invested in the characters or waiting for the next twist. What it does well is stay out of the way. The game gives you enough to know why you are fighting without drowning you in cutscenes. That restraint works in a game like this, but part of me still wished for at least one moment of emotional weight that would have elevated the journey beyond pure action.
Sound and music fit the identity better. The soundtrack blends traditional instruments with modern beats, creating an atmosphere that shifts from tense to energetic depending on the pace. It is not as iconic as the visuals or combat, but it complements them and helps drive momentum. Some tracks stuck with me after playing, and that is always a sign that the score did its job. Voice acting is minimal, but that is consistent with the overall style. The game wants the focus on rhythm and mechanics, not dialogue, and in that sense the choice is appropriate.
I also want to mention accessibility. The developers clearly thought about players with different skill levels. Options exist to adjust damage, enemy health, and checkpoints, which lets you calibrate the experience to your own comfort. I tested a few of these features out of curiosity, and they do not break the balance of the game, they just make it less punishing. For players who want the challenge untouched, the standard difficulty is demanding without being unfair, and for those who want to feel the flow of combat without hitting walls, the adjustments help. After finishing the main story, extra modes like Arcade and Boss Rush add replay value, and they genuinely extend the lifespan of the game.
All of this adds up to a revival that succeeds because it respects the past while building something new. The DNA of Shinobi is still here. You can feel it in the speed of attacks, the precise demands of timing, and the sense of spectacle in executions. But the game does not stop there. It adds layers of depth, exploration, and artistry that would not have existed in the originals. That balance is why it works. It is not chasing nostalgia for its own sake. It is reimagining what Shinobi could be today, and for the most part it nails it.
For me the standout moments were those fights where everything clicked. When you move between enemies without hesitation, chain combos into Ninpo techniques, and finish with an execution that clears the screen, the game feels electric. Those are the times where I thought, yes, this is why Shinobi deserved to come back. The platforming frustrations and the flat story keep it from reaching the very top tier, but the core experience is strong enough to carry the whole game.
Conclusion:
Looking back, I enjoyed my time with Art of Vengeance more than I expected. I went in cautious, prepared for another attempt to resurrect a brand that had already been forgotten by most, but I came out genuinely impressed. It is stylish, challenging, and satisfying, with flaws that are noticeable but not deal-breaking. The 8.5 out of 10 feels right because it acknowledges those flaws while giving credit to everything the game achieves. If you are curious about Shinobi, or if you simply want a modern action platformer with combat that feels great from start to finish, this is worth your time.
