Absolum Review: Magic, Mayhem, and the Art of Getting Your Face Kicked In

There’s a moment in Absolum that sold me completely. I was juggling three armored zealots with Cider, flipping between their attacks, chaining a combo that should’ve been impossible, and then, just as I landed the final strike, the camera froze for half a heartbeat. The screen shook. The music flared. It wasn’t just combat anymore. It was choreography. That’s Absolum in a nutshell, a game that makes you feel like a god one second and an amateur the next. A side-scrolling, fantasy-flavored roguelite that bleeds confidence and challenge in equal measure. And after hours of getting wrecked, rebuilt, and reborn inside its loop, I can safely say this one’s worth your time.

The World Bleeds Magic

Set in the fractured realm of Talamh, Absolum opens with a world that’s both beautiful and broken. Magic once flowed freely, but the Sun King, Azra, twisted it into tyranny. Now his Crimson Order hunts down anyone who dares to use it. You play as one of the outlaws, the unwanted, the “absolved” fighting to take that power back. It’s not a story that slaps you in the face. It’s more like a book you find half-burned: you piece it together as you run, fight, and die. Every new route, every boss, drops a hint at an artifact, a line of dialogue, a symbol scratched on a wall. The lore isn’t spoon-fed; it’s earned, and that makes it stick. The tone feels dark without being dreary. It’s more desperate rebellion than grim apocalypse. You’re fighting not just monsters, but a system that wants you erased. It gives every swing of your weapon a little more weight.

The Four Faces of Defiance

Absolum gives you a small cast of characters, but each one feels like a completely different way to approach combat, not just in stats, but in personality.

Galandra swings her greatsword like she’s got something to prove. Every attack is a commitment. You don’t just hit; you decide to hit. Timing her slashes feels like conducting a storm.

Karl is the dwarven bruiser. He’s all muscle, knuckles, and attitude. His playstyle is close, risky, and deeply satisfying when you nail that parry-punch combo that clears half the screen.

Cider, my personal favorite, fights like a gymnast with a death wish. She’s fast, technical, and her aerial combos make the game feel almost like a 2D Devil May Cry.

Brome, the frog wizard (yes, that’s real), is your ranged thinker. Traps, spells, and clever spacing turn chaos into controlled destruction.

None of them feels like “skins.” Their moves, sound effects, and even their idle animations have personality. And when you start unlocking new abilities through “Inspirations,” you realize just how deep each character’s combat sandbox really goes.

Combat That Feels Alive

Here’s where Absolum sinks its hooks in. The combat system walks a tightrope between simplicity and depth, and it nails it. You’ve got your basic light and heavy attacks, dodges, and specials. But it’s what happens between those moves that matters. Hit-stops (that brief pause when you land a strike) feel perfect. Enemy reactions are readable but aggressive. You can feel the difference between hitting armor and flesh. And when you chain air juggles into wall bounces, or use a dodge-cancel to extend a combo by half a second, it’s pure flow state. There’s also that roguelite spice: each run gifts you Rituals, temporary buffs, and abilities that reshape your strategy. Maybe your heavy attacks now inflict burn. Maybe dodging leaves a shadow clone. Maybe your projectiles split mid-flight. You start crafting mini-builds on the fly, adjusting your playstyle as you climb deeper into Talamh. And because everything resets on death, the game constantly forces you to adapt, not just repeat. That’s what separates Absolum from so many copy-paste roguelites it doesn’t reward memorization; it rewards mastery.

The Loop — Die, Learn, Evolve

Runs in Absolum feel tight and purposeful. Each one lasts maybe 30–45 minutes, depending on your skill and luck. You push through procedurally mixed zones, forests, deserts, ruins, and strongholds, each with unique enemy types and hazards. There’s no wasted motion. When you die (and you will, often), you head back to your hub, a kind of ethereal refuge where you can invest in permanent upgrades. These might boost your base health, unlock new Rituals, or open shortcuts to skip early zones. It’s enough to make progress feel tangible, even when you’re losing. The best runs are the messy ones. You start weak, stumble into a brutal elite fight, scrape by with 2 HP, then find a Ritual that turns your build around. That dynamic comeback, that “I shouldn’t have survived that” energy, is what keeps you hooked. The only real gripe? Sometimes the randomness hits too hard. You’ll have god-tier runs followed by cursed ones where every upgrade feels useless. It’s part of the roguelite DNA, but a little tuning on the drop rates wouldn’t hurt.

Visuals That Pop (and Punch)

Absolum looks stunning. The hand-drawn art has this painterly texture that makes every frame look like concept art come alive. Animations are crisp, and the combat reads beautifully even in chaos. There’s a subtle 3D parallax effect that adds depth without clutter. The environments aren’t just backdrops; they breathe. Wind ripples through banners, torches flicker against armor, and dust rises with each impact. It’s one of those games where you occasionally stop mid-run just to appreciate the lighting. Then there’s the soundtrack, which deserves its own standing ovation. With Elden Ring composer Yuka Kitamura on board, the music swings between melancholy and fury. Boss themes hit like adrenaline shots. And when a run’s about to end, the dynamic score adjusts, the rhythm tightens, the drums get heavier as if the game itself knows you’re on the edge.

What Could Be Better

As much as I adore Absolum, it’s not without cracks. After a dozen runs, you start to notice familiar patterns in enemy placements, room shapes, and even mini-bosses. The procedural generation keeps things fresh enough, but there’s room for more variety down the line. Difficulty spikes can also be brutal. Some bosses seem balanced for a slightly later build, punishing players who haven’t been blessed by the RNG gods. It’s satisfying once you adapt, but expect a few “controller on the desk” moments. Finally, the story takes a while to find its rhythm. If you’re the kind of player who needs strong narrative hooks early on, Absolum asks for patience. But trust me, once the lore starts threading together, it’s worth it.

Real Talk

If Dead Cells and Streets of Rage 4 had a magical, rebellious child raised on punishment and style, that kid would be Absolum. It’s a game that respects your time but demands your attention. You can’t autopilot here. Every dodge, every swing, every decision matters.

FINAL SCORE: 90/100