When The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild arrived in 2017, everything changed. It eschewed the comfortable formula the series had relied on for nearly 30 years, instead focusing on the very simple premise the original games in the series were based on: discovery. Pure, unfettered discovery.

In and of itself it’s not an original concept, but its execution is quite impressive. Players had come to expect some kind of support, even in “hardcore” open-world titles, but Breath of the Wild didn’t play by the same rules. There’s no direct path to follow or powerful leveling. When it rained, you slipped. When it snowed, you froze. Even weapons break if you use them too often.

Breath of the Wild introduces you to its world. It was up to you to live with it, learn from it, and love it. Many (including us) considered it to be the best Zelda title of all time, if not the best game ever made. Under the incredible pressure of making a direct sequel, everyone was asking themselves, “How could we do better?”

It’s so good that it’s impossible to talk about The Legend of Zelda: Kingdom of Tears without exaggerating. By addressing all the criticisms of its predecessor, turning everything else up to eleven, and toning down the core philosophy of discovery three-fold, Nintendo could have created a masterpiece. The game is an ever-evolving matryoshka doll with new game mechanics, locations, story and scope. It takes almost all of the great ideas of the series and combines them with so many new ones that even after 150 hours there is still something to learn.

So what is it? What makes this game the second coming of Christ for Hyrule?

As a direct sequel, Tears of the Kingdom begins on the heels of Breath of the Wild with a world filled with the glow of salvation. Link, royal knight and guardian princess, has gloriously returned from a century-long slumber to unite the fractured kingdom of Hyrule, defeat the villainous Calamity Ganon and free the titular Zelda, frozen in time to keep evil at bay. Unfortunately, the time to celebrate is cut short as things quickly get out of hand.

Tears of the Kingdom starts cinematically, showcasing Nintendo’s more mature storytelling skills. In a dark tomb lit by flashlight, Zelda and Link explore its depths, searching for answers as to what is causing a “decay” across the kingdom. They will come across a crusted corpse (soon to be sufficiently hydrated) that will make them regret what they found. Awakened to their presence, the resurrected Demon King Ganondorf instantly restores the status quo, while his overwhelming power takes Link’s life and pushes Zelda into the abyss. The Master Sword breaks, the protagonist loses an arm, and the Princess is left adrift helpless through time and space.

Link wakes up in a cave some time later. He has a new, mystically enhanced arm and hears a voice in his head. Everything outside is in ruins. Chunks of earth fly thousands of meters into the sky, and the whole world has been turned upside down. He has no choice but to jump in.

With this opening sequence, Nintendo immediately establishes a new atmosphere. Where Breath of the Wild was full of melancholy, Tears of the Kingdom is tense. The central idea of ​​the previous game was that Link wakes up a century after losing a battle and wanders a world that has barely evolved, trying to pick up the pieces to make things right. Here you can’t be satisfied with what has happened, it happens. Zelda is missing, the world is literally falling apart and something must be done now.

The mystery surrounding Zelda’s disappearance and the sudden appearance of the Sky Islands has had a huge impact on the world. Breath of the Wild’s story was simple and straightforward: Here’s the map, and the focus is Ganon. Kill her. You can explore the vast open world, get stronger, gain allies, and right past mistakes, but ultimately it’s all in service of that end goal. Technically, you can do this from the beginning.

Here, the overlapping mysteries surrounding Zelda’s fate, what’s happening in each place, and who did it, give the story (and the player) great direction. The world isn’t static, and it’s more alive than ever. With Link having a habit of disappearing (for centuries at a time), the people of Hyrule decide to take matters into their own hands. And once again, that sense of urgency arises as the world’s NPCs (many returning faces, as well as older ones and smaller characters given new purpose) actively try to save themselves by forming militias and, more importantly, research institutes to investigate ruins that have fallen from the sky. The setting is reminiscent of Marvel stories, and more specifically, certain Godzilla movies, where ordinary people desperately band together to fight back in an eerie world, directly addressing complaints that Breath of the Wild is too empty or lifeless.

If you have a world teeming with life, you naturally want to explore it, right? This is the next area where Tears of the Kingdom differs from its predecessor. Breath of the Wild was hailed for breaking conventions of the open world genre and perfecting it. Many open world games struggle to take the player deep into the world, often using totems or distant landmarks to grab the player’s attention. Skyrim’s famous selling point is “Do you see that mountain?” “You can climb it,” you say, “you can climb it!” Awkward. But that illusion is shattered when you naively wander into an endgame area filled with enemies too powerful to handle yet. Other games, such as Sony’s Horizon series, limit this by locking down entire areas of the game and making relaxed exploration in manageable playgrounds, but the linear narrative pushes the surface of free exploration.

Breath of the Wild liberated itself by sticking to a minimalist story where the experience is almost entirely optional. Memories that painted this picture were scattered across the world, colored by diaries and hearsay at its edges. There are several important landmarks on the map, available in any order, allowing players to explore every nook and cranny of each region on their own.

Tears of the Kingdom follows the same principle, but with a deeper intent and impact. The discovery of emojis scattered throughout the kingdom revives the “memory” form, revealing the fate of the missing princess and providing background to the story. At the same time, there is an active quest line that deals with the world’s current crisis and takes players between regions. Combined with long, ongoing side adventures and, of course, little boons, the game’s missions are clear and well-written, thankfully avoiding unnecessary occupational therapy.

There’s the type of player (me) who turns around and runs in the opposite direction as soon as they spot a quest marker or objective. Why do what you have to do when you can do anything else? Nintendo seems to have cracked our psyche with the way the questline design is strategically and practically omnipresently placed.

There’s progress in every direction, you can’t just stand still. Early on, I quickly avoided what seemed to be the obvious direction of story progression and spent a lovely few hours wandering the catacombs. I stumbled across one of the most important abilities of this game by accident (it seems). It’s a Pavlovian procrastination reward system that rewards doing things your way, no matter what.

And what choice do you have? One of the internet’s biggest concerns about this game was how the developers would create something worth waiting six years for with the same overworld and setting. Most direct sequels in the series adopt the gameplay mechanics but still find a new setting to keep it fresh. But just like its reimagining of the legend, Nintendo has breathed new life into this version of Hyrule.

Yes, the entire Overworld still exists exactly as it did in the previous game, but the catastrophe at the start has changed almost everything you remember. Cities lie in ruins, rest areas have been repurposed for triage and research, and each large area or location that was there before has been reduced to such chaos that everything old seems new again.

Other games, like last year’s God of War: Ragnarök, have done this to great effect, but it’s what’s at the core that sets Tears of the Kingdom apart. And about that! Besides the Sky Island that was introduced, it seems Hyrule also has a Skull Island-esque Hollow Earth scenario. You can now explore the entire Overworld in three ways: above ground, in the sky, and underground. Yes, the map has tripled in size and is divided into levels that can be explored separately or linked together, with questlines and gameplay dotting each level like a video game lasagna.

Because exploration traverses multiple axes, navigating Hyrule can feel like 4D chess, forcing players to think multidimensionally about where they are in relation to the world in order to solve puzzles and achieve goals. While the map levels seem to turn the entire world into one big Zelda dungeon, Nintendo isn’t leaving it alone, as real dungeons are also returning. Breath of the Wild famously omitted the series’ trademark exploration dungeons, instead introducing 120 bite-sized puzzle shrines and four divine beasts that act as pit stops to satisfy your dungeon cravings. Here, the more traditional dungeons return in all their glory. And they’re fantastic.

As with the story and setting, the dungeons featured here are some of the most epic in the series so far. The first ship I tackled launched me into the sky to cross ancient ruins besieged by a fleet of ghost ships orbiting a cyclone in the clouds. In the storm, I found myself battling a giant air monster, and it was just one of many “oh, the worst” moments on my journey.

But you’re not alone on this journey. In Breath of the Wild, Link was tasked with finding four regional champions to represent the various races of Hyrule and unite in the fight against Ganon, but they almost entirely disappeared from the story after they were convened, waiting until the time of the final showdown. Things get a little easier here, as Link can now find the sages of each of the world’s four non-standard humanoid races (Riot, Gerudo, Zora, and Goron) and actually join the fight at that moment.

Companions are nothing new to the series, but in previous games they only played a passive role; Navi, Midna, and The Wind Waker’s talking sailors all guide Link to his objectives and provide clues. Companions here (again) influence the course of battle, similar to modern games like God of War: Ragnarok. They have their own stories, goals, and three-dimensional personalities. They joke, they argue, and they liven up the proceedings in ways that enrich the content. Like a mystery that unfolds, propelling players into new regions in hopes of meeting the next person.

So, the Homeric tale, the huge open world, and the compelling characters all work together to make a deep, satisfying, and complex game. Now take all of this and add Minecraft to it. No, seriously. It’s all above board.

Not content with rethinking how its entire world and story worked, Nintendo decided to also focus on the most popular aspect of Breath of the Wild: the physics-based nonsense. The 2017 Zelda entry was not only a big game, but also a hit with players who wanted to beat it. Part of the game’s longevity is due to players simply playing in a sandbox, as an engine built on complex physics and basic mechanics can be exploited in endlessly interesting ways.

Instead of curtailing control, Nintendo uncharacteristically gave it more distribution. The previous simple abilities of ranged bombs, cryonics, magnesis, and stasis have been replaced with even more dizzying powers that essentially challenge players to shatter the game’s reality with their own meta. As mentioned in the hands-on preview, there are four variations: Ascend, Recall, Ultrahand, and Fuse.

Ascend is the simplest, taking advantage of the verticality of the new world by allowing players to shoot straight through most ceilings and platforms like a bullet. In a cave at the base of a mountain? Use Ascend and quickly dig your way to the top. This is the easiest to forget, as players’ brains just aren’t trained for this level of maneuverability in exploration.

With other tools, things get very complicated. Ultrahand and Fuse are two sides of the same coin. Simply put, everything in the world is a tool. Every item, be it a metal box, an enemy’s bone, or an apple picked from a tree, can be assembled into a vehicular structure (think everything from a hot air balloon to a tank) or assembled for combat.

The game makes every effort to show the potential of the Ultrahand. Many of the puzzles rely on assembling improvised boats and planes to traverse the seas and skies. Even enemies are building their own structures, with the previously primitive Bokblins and Moblins now patrolling the land in Mad Max-style deathmobiles cobbled together from scrap metal. Resourceful players will quickly set aside almost everything else in the game to build gigantic mechs.

With Fusion, Tears of the Kingdom reinvents the whole concept of the combat system. The biggest sticking point for many in Breath of the Wild was the weapon durability system. Do you have a favorite sword? Unfortunately, it will break at some point. The goal was to teach players to think strategically and use everything they have to win. When you have only one more swing of your sword, remember that your sword is made of metal and that a thunderstorm is approaching. You fly into the enemy camp to generate electricity and start a forest fire in their place. Some of you never understood.

Now you must try not to understand. Do you see this stick? Attach a stone to the end and it becomes a hammer. Notice the arrow? This time it’s a homing arrow. Rather than being limited to the equipment the game gives you, there seems to be an endless variety of what you can use at any given time. You can do anything, or at least it feels that way.

Consider this scenario: You’re hiking through a scenic hillside when you see a hut surrounded by wooden picket fences in the distance. Undaunted by strong Walking Dead vibes, you rush in to rescue the owner. Except it ambushed me, plunging me into a game of death with two Yiga Clan ninjas who could take down my pathetically weak ass in one hit. Searching for a solution, I turned to my inventory and scrolled until I stopped at the flamethrower. It’s not actually a weapon – it’s meant to be built – but it could be attached to a shield. Now I have a shield that shoots flames, interrupting and punishing attacks while keeping enemies at bay and draining their health.

It wasn’t necessarily the right way to solve the problem, but like eating a wreath, there’s no wrong way to play Tears of the Kingdom.

It’s this spirit, the purest embodiment of player choice ever seen in The Legend of Zelda, and possibly any AAA video game ever released, that’s the soul of the game. In contrast, the story is deep and epic, but it doesn’t matter in what order you progress through it. The gameplay lets you do just about anything you can imagine, and yet it’s somehow simple and intuitive. It’s all so big, and yet it’s entirely determined by the minutiae of small moments and decisions.

Playing Tears of the Kingdom might make you feel like you’re in for a strange experience. In between those everlasting Eureka moments, you’ll often pause and wonder if you’re really playing the greatest game of all time. In my case, for the first 20 hours, these breaks came about every 45 minutes. If things continue this way, people may continue to have doubts for the next 20 years.