Sword of the Sea Review (PS5)
Summary: Sword of the Sea is an atmospheric adventure game by Giant Squid in which players control the Wraith, a silent, ethereal being riding a mystical hoversword across a desolate world. The goal is to restore life to barren landscapes by activating water seeds, transforming deserts into oceans and reviving flora and aquatic creatures. With fluid movement, exploration-focused gameplay, and a meditative, visually stunning world, the game blends art and action into a serene yet thrilling experience.
4.5
Sundered Silence
The desert sleeps, waiting for water to remember its name. Sword of the Sea is an adventure game developed and published by Giant Squid and released on August 19th of 2025 for PlayStation 5 and Windows. Known for atmospheric experiences like Abzû and The Pathless, Giant Squid once again pursues a vision of meditative exploration fused with fluid mechanics and striking art direction. This time, the studio shifts from the ocean and forests to a barren desert shaped by waves of sand, where the player, as a silent figure called the Wraith, rides a mystical “hoversword” to restore life to a world lost to ruin. The game immediately positions itself as both a continuation of Giant Squid’s lineage and an evolution of its design philosophy, melding artistry with kinetic gameplay in a way few other developers attempt.
The story of Sword of the Sea begins with an awakening. The Wraith rises within a tomb-like chamber, summoned without explanation. In hand is the hoversword, the only constant companion across the journey, and the tool through which change is made possible. The world outside is lifeless, scarred by a forgotten war, its oceans dried to dust. Progressing through the environment, players activate “water seeds,” ancient artifacts that breathe vitality back into the land. Each seed brings forth rivers, lakes, and aquatic flora, altering the terrain and providing new avenues for traversal. Narrative detail comes through environmental storytelling such as stone steles inscribed with cryptic fragments, ruins that hint at a culture long past, and the gradual reintroduction of sea life that speaks volumes about rebirth without uttering a single word. In design and mood, it resembles Journey or Abzû, purposefully obtuse yet emotionally legible, drawing meaning not from dialogue, but from imagery, pacing, and the bond between player and world.
The Wraith itself (although very memorable and iconic in design) is less a character than a vessel: mute, ethereal, and driven solely to reconnect a fragmented ecosystem. The player’s relationship with the hoversword defines the entire experience. Acting simultaneously as skateboard, surfboard, snowboard, and hoverboard, the blade transforms sand into waves beneath its edge. You carve across dunes, ride momentum like water currents, and launch into the air from natural halfpipes formed by wind-sculpted ridges. The feeling is immediate. Smooth, quick, and snappy. At one moment, you are meditating in the openness of the desert, and in the next, pulling a tight spin off a crest before landing with precision. Movement feels both exhilarating and calming, capturing that paradoxical sense of adrenaline and serenity surfing embodies.
Gameplay interlaces exploration, traversal, and light puzzle-solving. The controls are crisp, rewarding precision, but never punishing experimentation. Tight turns, sudden stops, and smooth acceleration all evoke the mechanics of real boardsports, while maintaining a graceful layer of accessibility. Platforming plays a central role, with jumps, tricks, and momentum chaining together to reach otherwise inaccessible areas. The Wraith can also use a telekinetic sphere, mapped to the square button, to manipulate the environment: opening chests, activating switches, or slamming downward onto pressure plates. Completing objectives, most often by restoring water seeds, reshapes the world itself. Deserts turn to wetlands, jellyfish-like platforms float into existence, and seaweed grows tall enough to climb. This dynamic transformation encourages revisiting areas to uncover hidden paths and collectibles, rewarding curiosity with tangible change.
The tactile feedback of the DualSense controller on PlayStation 5 elevates the sense of connection. Haptic rumble conveys the granular crunch of sand, the pulse of flowing water, and even the subtle repetition of rooftops as you skim over ruins. Each vibration is carefully tuned to match the movement and terrain beneath you, making every moment feel grounded in the world. Unlike many titles where such features feel obligatory, Sword of the Sea uses them as an extension of atmosphere. Every vibration deepens immersion, reminding the player that they are not just passing through the world, but resonating with it.
Exploration is enriched by secrets. Hidden frogs and ducks are whimsical rewards, while a currency called Tetra provides practical progression. Found in chests and scattered throughout the world, Tetra can be exchanged with a mysterious figure for new abilities, such as advanced tricks or extended boosts. Time trials challenge players to rack up points Tony Hawk’s Pro Skater-style, chaining flips, grabs, and spins to achieve high scores. Though simple at its core, this system layers unexpected depth onto the serene rhythm of traversal, allowing players to indulge in either meditative wandering or high-energy stunt challenges. This duality is perhaps Sword of the Sea’s greatest strength. It accommodates different moods, never forcing intensity, but always allowing it.
The pacing, while largely strong, does ebb. Certain sections slow momentum with extended traversal or repeated objectives, which can feel predictable for those familiar with Giant Squid’s prior works. Yet, the addictive fluidity of movement softens these lulls, making even downtime enjoyable. A complete playthrough averages around five to six hours, a length that may appear brief, but proves sufficient given the game’s focused scope. For those hungry for more, a new game plus mode introduces fresh abilities and the opportunity to hunt down missed collectibles, extending longevity without overstaying welcome.
Visually, Sword of the Sea is nothing short of stunning. Its art direction relies on painterly minimalism like muted earth tones interlaced with bursts of vibrant color once life returns. Lighting design deserves special praise, casting long shadows across dunes or bathing newly filled lakes in golden shimmer. Each level feels distinct, yet bound by a cohesive aesthetic that is intimate and expansive all at once. Every screenshot could stand alone as artwork, a testament to the careful eye of creative director Matt Nava.
Equally essential is the audio. Austin Wintory once again crafts a score that marries orchestration with emotion. Strings swell when oceans emerge, violins carry haunting melodies across desolate plains, and silence itself becomes a motif, making the return of sound all the more impactful. Music is dynamic, shifting with progress and complementing the world’s transformation, while subtle environmental effects like wind sweeping through caverns or the splash of returning fish immerse the player further. Together, visuals and audio create a symphony of atmosphere, an aesthetic harmony that Giant Squid has consistently excelled at.
If any criticism exists, it is in the familiarity of the formula. Much like Fumito Ueda’s body of work (ICO, Shadow of the Colossus, The Last Guardian, and the upcoming Project Robot), Giant Squid’s titles share a distinct DNA. Having played Journey, Abzû, and The Pathless, one may feel the beats of Sword of the Sea are recognizable. A cryptic awakening, followed by gradual environmental restoration, with a climactic encounter, and a bittersweet resolution. While executed beautifully, the pattern risks diminishing surprise. That said, it is difficult to complain when repetition comes with refinement; Sword of the Sea may follow familiar rhythms, but it arguably perfects them.
Ultimately, Sword of the Sea is a culmination of Giant Squid’s ethos: meditative storytelling, breathtaking artistry, and fluid gameplay unified into a singular experience. It is both a spiritual successor to Journey and an evolution of it, blending atmospheric exploration with mechanics that feel tactile and exhilarating. The Wraith’s quest, though simple in premise, resonates deeply through audiovisual splendor and player agency. Restoring life to the desert is not just a narrative goal, but an emotional one, felt with every shift of sand and every chord of violin.
Final Thoughts?
For fans of Giant Squid’s past works, Sword of the Sea feels essential as an expression of everything the studio has strived toward. For newcomers, it offers an accessible, memorable journey unlike much else in modern gaming. It may be brief, but its impact lingers, like the memory of waves long after they’ve receded. On balance, it is a work of beauty, craft, and playfulness, deserving recognition not only as a game, but as a piece of interactive art.
About the Author
Nay Clark Gaming holds a special place in my heart and I never stop talking about video games. I really love all types of games and have an interest in games that have complicated stories and lore because I enjoy untangling the mystery of it all. When I'm not gaming, I unsuccessfully try to control three amazing and incredibly bright kids.
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