‘In those dreams, I loved one woman... No matter the day, no matter the era…’
My adolescence was marked by the exploration of video games and RPGs already had the strongest attraction over me. There was an evocative quality to them that made them convenient getaways, places of reverie and poetic fables. Final Fantasy VI (1994) was certainly the first big shock of that time: in this universe torn between magic and technology, the adventures of this peculiar company resonated with me and I still consider Celes to be one of the characters dearest to my heart. Many other games have punctuated these adventures in those fictional lands, but Xenogears (1998) holds a rather distinctive place.
Final Fantasy VII (1997) didn't have any of the much-vaunted charm on me, certainly because it wasn't the story I needed, probably because the characters didn't speak to me that much. Xenogears, on the other hand, proved to be a rough gem, which I didn't know I liked that much. Perhaps it was because I had shared the experience with my then girlfriend. She and I shared this infinite love for literature and a melancholic soul. For various reasons, Xenogears was a game that moved us: from the story told to the clever use of the PS1's limitations with an art direction that embraced the very geometric aspect of the graphic assets, a poetic breath ran through the title. The silence of the final seconds in the ending cutscene was a testament to the contemplative force that fed Xenogears. Yet, as important and grandiose as this game was, I always found it difficult to place it among my favourite games. Was it because it reminded me of an era that is painful for me today? Was it because the memory of my tender love crushed my heart whenever I thought of Elly?
While playing Xenoblade Chronicles 3, all these memories gradually rose to the surface of my consciousness, bursting into nostalgic recollections. For Tetsuya Takahashi, Xenogears is the one project that never came to fruition, for editorial reasons. Although the Perfect Works book gives a glimpse of what this titanic project could have been, the idealised Xenogears lives only in our minds, and those who played the game nourish this unrealized title with their speculation and love. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 looks like a way for Takahashi to move on and rewrite a Xenogears, while also taking on the legacy of Xenosaga and the Xenoblade Chronicles. Since the release of the first Xenoblade Chronicles (2010), Monolith Soft has confirmed its prestigious position within the JRPG genre. This success has put the studio back in the spotlight, and it is involved in the development of major Nintendo titles such as The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword (2011) and The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (2017), to name but a few, while continuing to work on the Xenoblade Chronicles franchise. Xenoblade Chronicles X (2015) served as a counterpoint to the original opus, borrowing its structure, but moving towards a very sci-fi story, under the writing of Kazuho Hyodo (Gundam SEED). The second numerical opus reveals the definite influence of japanimation on the development team - surely, because of its youth compared to the industry average. While Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (2017) was very well received, the sexualisation of the female characters did not go unnoticed and offended a part of the community.
Xenoblade Chronicles 3 thus appears to be a title that synthesises all of Monolith Soft's work. By presumably concluding the Xenoblade Chronicles series, it asserts that it learnt lessons from its predecessors. At the same time, it operates a return to the origins, since the title made no secret of being a retelling of Xenogears. Even the name of the protagonist, Noah, echoes the original name of the first game: Project Noah. For veterans of Xenogears and Xenosaga, the references are undeniable, right from the first few minutes. From similar exposition scenes to passages reused almost word for word, it is obvious that Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is a game of mourning: that of a project that never came to fruition, that of an era that is now over, that of a producer who must look to the future. It is therefore necessarily also a game that propels Monolith Soft towards new horizons and towards a breeze of renewal.
‘A tiny ripple has just been born in the world that surrounds them.’
The sequences that I find the strongest in JRPGs are those that manage to recontextualise the gameplay into a unique narrative proposition. Those who played Final Fantasy VI will of course remember the passage where Celes is on the solitary island, which opens the second section of the game. The Xeno franchise has always sought to impress through exploration. Cinematography has been a strength of the studio, and the most recent titles place a particular emphasis on the gigantic world, which overwhelms the characters, particles moving with the flow of time. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 takes these approaches and adds a large tinge of nostalgia and intertextuality, constantly referencing elements from previous titles, using players' memories to invoke particular emotions. The discovery of the Dannagh Desert or the Erythia Sea is bound to strike a chord with players who have done the first two Xenoblade Chronicles. In addition to the sense of vastness, both horizontal and vertical, these regions are also filled with a wistful quality. The edges of the map help to circumscribe this magic, making this universe a moment cut off from time: chasms that soar into a sea of clouds or waterfalls that flow to who-knows-where do not allow for a grasp of the horizon. What the player sees is infinity.
To make exploration more fluid, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 opts for a more direct narrative breakdown. The side quests and the main story rarely mix, so that it is possible to finish the game fairly quickly, ignoring the former. The strength of the game comes from the positioning of these side quests. They form, for each colony, a slow evolution towards the future: despite uninteresting objectives, they contextualise individuals within communities that seek to survive and find meaning in existence. Moreover, each quest directs the player to new locations, contributing to the organic nature of the exploration. Some may regret this approach, which makes exploring relatively linear, if you attach it to the resolution of side quests. As a corollary, finishing the exploration before the side quests empties them of some of their purpose. Nevertheless, it is an ideal way to get the player to interact with the world and to become familiar with hundreds of minor characters, whose lives make up and depict humanity in all its forms. This is probably why the side quests in Chapters 6 and 7 are the most compelling, as they have a solid narrative base to tell their story. Although still too short, these little vignettes of human life in Aionios work when put together.
While the game design is geared towards accessibility for the general public, with Monolith Soft understanding that several dozen hours is an investment that is increasingly difficult to make for the completion of an RPG, it is apparent that the ideal experience requires total completion – prior to passing the point of no return. This is perhaps one of the pitfalls of Xenoblade Chronicles 3. Apart from the assiduous player who fully completes the side quests before tackling the final hours of the main story – which I did – the title fails to combine the contemplation of the world with its thematic discourse. Haunted by the question of existentialism and the future, like the other Xeno games, it takes a very similar setting to Xenogears with two nations at war and the couple of Noah and Mio, largely echoing Fei and Elly. The same questions are asked, especially from the beginning of Chapter 6. The issue with Xenoblade Chronicles 3 could be the density of its cast, preventing us from dwelling too long on the trials and tribulations of each character. The protagonists' side quests are completed in barely an hour, resulting in personality changes that are sometimes a little abrupt. Sena's quest is a perfect example of this problem, as it has very little to do with Sena, but seeks to conclude a narrative thread explored in the previous two chapters. The heroes' quests are also too short, although they suffer less from this: some even manage to be very effective, within the narrative structure of their colony. Colony Mu is certainly the most successful in this respect.
The protagonists also engage with each other much more and always offer feedback, even in very minor quests, which helps the game to be more digestible. Admittedly, the relative silence of Noah and Mio, due to their propensity for introspection, can clash with the pace of their development, especially when compared to the very strong personalities of Lanz, Eunie or Taion. A real arborescence of relationships is created by a very rich voice acting. The English version I chose continues the tone of the previous games, with definite English, Scottish, Irish or Welsh accents; the writing adapts to it and one could almost believe that the game was first written in English, so much the mannerisms and idioms are naturally used. They also help to enliven the world by bringing an extra touch of humanity, with characters being rougher in their diction and speech. The English version of Eunie is completely different from her Japanese counterpart, much more focused and less expressive. It's a personal choice, but I think that playing in English – even if one can lose some cultural nuance – contributes to the singularity of the adventure that Xenoblade Chronicles 3 offers.
‘Your fate was sealed when you rose against us!’
The combat system is also smoother and clearer than its predecessors. Xenoblades Chronicles 3 introduces the concept of Fusions Arts, which allow battles to always have a steady tempo. The title combines the systems of two Xenoblade Chronicles – Agnian attacks are charged with auto-attacks, while Keves' ones are on a fixed timer - to provide a welcome variation in gameplay. Each battle benefits from the player's attention to the positioning of the various characters, as well as the combination of different abilities, to maximise damage via the effects created by combos. The result is almost cinematic sequences, sometimes lasting for dozens of seconds, in which the player finds themselves switching between characters very quickly to unleash a series of coordinated attacks. In particular, it is very easy to mix up attacks thanks to the cancel animation of the Fusions Arts. The Interlink is also a mechanic that keeps the fight very aggressive. It can be used in two ways: either the player uses it when they are level 3 to maximise the damage output, or they can use it defensively to protect a character whose life has dropped severely, as the Interlink provides invincibility.
The show really culminates in the Chain Attacks, which are much more understandable than their counterparts in previous Xenoblade Chronicles. The concept is simplified to opening each round with a damage dealer, then using a healer before closing with a tank: a simple formula that encourages the use of Chain Attacks. The influence of Persona 5 (2016) seems obvious, but Xenoblade Chronicles 3 takes a much more grandiose route with its catchy musical theme and cinematography that supports the power of the blows dealt to the enemy. One might regret that these attacks are so powerful that they become a convenient expedient for finishing any fight quickly: boss fights often come down to surviving until their life drops below two-thirds, before unleashing a powerful Chain Attack – unless the player is already crushing the opposition with their level difference.
In essence, the combat system allows for a real sense of empowerment during battle, without being difficult to pick up. While it is possible for veterans to build a very custom team by changing the classes of each character, the game gives clear advice for those who are not adept at the genre: simply keep a balanced formation (two damage dealers, two healers, two tanks and the hero as a joker) to create an effective team and cover one's back. In the same way, if it is possible to spend long moments choosing skills, arts and other accessories, the title leaves the possibility of using a standardised build, with regard to the acquired skills and equipment, by pressing the Y button in the character menu. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 pursues Monolith Soft's broad-based philosophy, reversing the mistakes that previous combat systems have made; at the same time, the title still offers difficult challenges for the most seasoned players. Excluding the Challenges, the ultimate peak of difficulty is found in the hunt for Aionios' biggest monsters. Four of them must first be killed before the game's most powerful enemy – whose base level is 120 – can be faced.
The variety of side quests, which sometimes require a specific hero in the team, contributes to the diversity of the combat system, as the composition of the party often changes. In the same way, since skills and arts are shared between classes, it is strongly advised to switch from one to another often, in order to unlock all the abilities. Meanwhile, raising a hero class to level 10 unlocks its Ascension Quest, a convenient reason to constantly try new compositions. Thus, it is quite unlikely that the player already has a fixed team in the first part of the game: personally, it was not until chapter 6 that I did not change classes anymore, having already gained enough experience to unlock all the Ascension Quests.
‘It's okay not to feel whole. A part... is better than zero.’
In 2016, my girlfiend passed away. It was a few months after we had played Xenogears together. The golden age of JRPGs established character development as a central part of its plot: if one must save the world, one must also save oneself. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is a game that balances between the quest for the future and the chains of regret. In 2016, I was still a teenager whose life was difficult and whose ordeal of grief was a silent acid burn. Even today, something is missing. There is still a hole in my chest that won't close: you can throw words, thoughts, emotions into it, but it is a black hole that refuses to fill. The pain of mourning is one of the most existential, because it is at the intersection of life and death. It is felt only by beings who are essentially separated: some are still living, others have left the world. Nothing can bridge this fundamental divide. The living are not meant to live with the dead.
My thoughts on this subject are not settled. My mourning is not over. On the scale of my life, six long years represent an interminable pilgrimage in search for an answer. Nevertheless, I have managed to find some truths that content me, if not fully satisfy me. When I think of my self of a few years ago, I see a creature that has been so painfully wounded by fate. It's hard to understand, at that age, why life can be so unforgiving. The resentment I harboured at that time was directed at myself. Doubts and guilt threw me into the throes of loneliness and despair. 'What if...' asks the cracked soul, in the hope that events that have already happened would have turned out differently. When drifting on this sea of darkness, any wooden plank is a salutary reef, at least to hold on a little longer. I regret that my self could not experience Xenoblade Chronicles 3, as my still developing mind could have found answers in the game's narrative.
If the title continues in the anime turn of the 2010s, with a generally juvenile writing style, it does so with a real sincerity. The questions asked are those of teenagers or young adults: they echo those I have experienced myself. As such, some sequences are particularly touching and give a glimpse of a terribly sensitive humanity, if not subtly expressed. The climax of Chapter 5 presents the emotions of the protagonists, taken on the spur of the moment. It is a torrent of emotions that pours out in a few minutes, after the silences and the unspoken words that punctuated the previous chapters. Of course, not everything works. Some scenes are too brief and superficial. Where Taion's quest works because of its pace and the poetic composition of its setting, Eunie's quest seems too hasty and too cheap to be convincing.
This gives the impression of a somewhat convenient sentimentalism, which is not exclusive to Xenoblade Chronicles 3, as it seems almost part of the DNA of modern JRPGs. This turn is noticeable in the 2000s, but has recently resulted in the placement of maudlin scenes in key sections of a game. Final Fantasy XV (2016) has several moments of great emotional intensity, but they seem almost disconnected from the rest of the experience. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 doesn't fail at the same pitfall, because the characters constantly interact with each other, even if some have to wait until the last few chapters for their development to finally begin - this is especially true of Sena. But because the characters are these teenagers, caught in a world they didn't choose, the doubts, the tears and the joys feel genuine. It is hard not to be touched by their experiences.
‘The future, it really is a foreign country...’
These experiences seem natural, because they echo those of post-Fukushima Japanese society. Through a web of parallels, Aionios evokes, to varying degrees and with greater or lesser accuracy, the difficulties of Japanese youth in the face of capitalism and the feeling of abandonment experienced over the past several decades. At the beginning of the 1990s, Japan experienced a major economic slump, caused both by the bursting of the real estate bubble and the weakening of banks' investment in businesses [1]. With the failure of Keynesian policies, Japan found itself trapped by its overspecialisation and its tendency to invest only in its domestic market. This psychological closure of Japanese companies to foreigners, despite government trends towards deregulation and the effects of globalisation, has deeply affected Japanese society to this day. From being an economic model for the world, Japan has become synonymous with structural problems, a discourse echoed by the Japanese themselves. This declinist impression is also fuelled by the country's demographic collapse and the failure of educational reforms in Japan. These reforms have increased inequality and divided the country in terms of access to employment: as a result, the number of applicants to universities has fallen, and with it the quality of the education system [2]. For young people, the consequences are manifold. The difficulty in accessing employment has created a distrust of the education system and of globalisation. Because traditional solidarities have also been eroded, young adults are waiting longer to enter into a relationship and a significant proportion of them are struggling to integrate into society, which official discourse wrongly groups under the term hikikomori.
Recent studies have pointed out that Japanese youth generally consider themselves happy, but without any hope for the future [3]. This essential contradiction is echoed in Xenoblade Chronicles 3, where armies of teenagers and young adults seem to find contentment in the relentless fighting, but without ever really thinking about the future. They survive in a universe imposed on them by various authorities. If the Castles illustrate the weight of government (in)action in their lives, the Consuls appear as a representation of the corporatist spirit in Abe's Japan, where everything is a question of productivity and efficiency, to the detriment of the employees' very well-being. Soldiers in the various colonies must continue their task - attacking other ones - at the risk of being destroyed by the system to which they contribute. Unable to develop their individuality, they do not find solidarity beyond the battle lines. Throughout the game, the terms 'culture' and 'family' are foreign to the characters. It is through the exploration of their repressed emotions that they are able to describe these concepts, associating them with a positive valence. As such, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is part of a precise ideological discourse, which challenges the Japanese policies of the last decades and tries to suggest ways forward for the Japanese youth.
Aionios is a world that is riddled with the notion of risk. In addition to the constant fighting, the threat of the Annihilation with the Black Fog clouds is an echo of the doubts that have plagued Japanese society since the Fukushima accident. This was caused by a combination of natural hazards and the myth of the total safety for Japanese nuclear power plants: for a country already accustomed to earthquakes and tsunamis, the Fukushima disaster has aggravated fears and discredited the political class. In Xenoblade Chronicles 3, the theme is never discussed in depth, but it serves as a framework for the universe, whose existence is always endangered by nature or human action. It is not surprising that the Annihilator works on the model of the Annihilations.
Building on these elements, the title also seems drawn to the fantasy of a traditional Japan. The image of cherry blossoms - Saffronia, in the game - recurs repeatedly to evoke a peaceful existence. As mentioned above, the representation of the nuclear family is widely emphasised. The birth of infants is a new vision for the soldiers of Keves and Agnus, to the point where the game makes conception sacred, through several quests and cutscenes. These elements must be understood in the context of Japan's demographic decline. The failure of Japan's recent birth policies can be explained by the Abenomics, which have done little to address gender inequalities in the workplace [4]. The difficulty for women to support themselves pushes back the idea of having children. This idea is present in the game, where some female characters seem concerned about procreation, which is largely ignored by their male counterparts. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 thus struggles to construct a discourse on family that corresponds to the aspirations of youth: it advocates a traditional, heterosexual nuclear family and never manages to break out of this framework. If Noah and Mio's relationship seems to be attached to a critique of patriarchy, it is only vilified in its most extreme forms. The title never features homosexual relationships and perpetuates a conservative ideology, under the guise of defending the future. Xenoblade Chronicles 3, because it is a game about forced change, is shrouded in the ghosts of Japanese conservatism and traditionalism.
‘It's now so clear to me that you're still far away – a step away.’
Just as Xenogears was a foundational experience in my relationship with my girlfriend, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is a game that allows me to let go of the teenager regrets I still feel. Despite the revamps brought to life by projects like Octopath Traveler (2018), the Final Fantasy Pixel Remaster Collection (2021) or the Live A Live remake (2022), the golden age of the JRPG is a thing of the past. These games fail to fully capture the atmosphere of the 1990s and early 2000s, as the socio-cultural context has changed. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is not a mindless throwback, but a synthesis of the themes carried by Xenogears and Xenosaga, the game design philosophy at the heart of Xenoblade Chronicles and current Japanese society. There are many things that don't work completely in the game, in its narrative or the way it presents its universe, and it is sometimes regrettable that the title doesn't go through with its intentions. But for me, it has a nostalgic aura to it, without giving in to archaism. It's a game of mourning, situated in the gap between the past and the future. The 'now' that Moebius so ardently defends is destined to come to an end, like our present time.
There are so many things I would have loved to do with you. So many discussions I would have wished to have with you, but you are no longer here. Or rather, you reside in me and it is through my future actions that I can pay tribute to your existence. One day we will meet again, that is a promise. But it's now so clear to me that you're still far away – a step away. For now, this is where we belong. Good night, my Claire, my beloved.
_________
[1] Kobayashi Keiichiro, 'The two 'lost decades' and macroeconomics', in Barak Kushner (ed.), Examining Japan's Lost Decades, Routledge, London, 2015.
[2] Kariya Takehiko, 'The two lost decades in education', in Barak Kushner (ed.), op. cit.
[3] Carola Hommerich, 'Anxious, stressed, and yet satisfied? The puzzle of subjective well-being among young adults in Japan', in Barbara Holthus, Wolfram Manzanreiter (ed.), Life Course, Happiness and Well-being in Japan, Routledge, London, 2017.
[4] Mark Crawford, 'Abe's Womenonics Policy, 2013-2020: Tokenism, Gradualism, or Failed Strategy?', in The Asia-Pacific Journal, vol. 19-4-4, 2021.
My adolescence was marked by the exploration of video games and RPGs already had the strongest attraction over me. There was an evocative quality to them that made them convenient getaways, places of reverie and poetic fables. Final Fantasy VI (1994) was certainly the first big shock of that time: in this universe torn between magic and technology, the adventures of this peculiar company resonated with me and I still consider Celes to be one of the characters dearest to my heart. Many other games have punctuated these adventures in those fictional lands, but Xenogears (1998) holds a rather distinctive place.
Final Fantasy VII (1997) didn't have any of the much-vaunted charm on me, certainly because it wasn't the story I needed, probably because the characters didn't speak to me that much. Xenogears, on the other hand, proved to be a rough gem, which I didn't know I liked that much. Perhaps it was because I had shared the experience with my then girlfriend. She and I shared this infinite love for literature and a melancholic soul. For various reasons, Xenogears was a game that moved us: from the story told to the clever use of the PS1's limitations with an art direction that embraced the very geometric aspect of the graphic assets, a poetic breath ran through the title. The silence of the final seconds in the ending cutscene was a testament to the contemplative force that fed Xenogears. Yet, as important and grandiose as this game was, I always found it difficult to place it among my favourite games. Was it because it reminded me of an era that is painful for me today? Was it because the memory of my tender love crushed my heart whenever I thought of Elly?
While playing Xenoblade Chronicles 3, all these memories gradually rose to the surface of my consciousness, bursting into nostalgic recollections. For Tetsuya Takahashi, Xenogears is the one project that never came to fruition, for editorial reasons. Although the Perfect Works book gives a glimpse of what this titanic project could have been, the idealised Xenogears lives only in our minds, and those who played the game nourish this unrealized title with their speculation and love. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 looks like a way for Takahashi to move on and rewrite a Xenogears, while also taking on the legacy of Xenosaga and the Xenoblade Chronicles. Since the release of the first Xenoblade Chronicles (2010), Monolith Soft has confirmed its prestigious position within the JRPG genre. This success has put the studio back in the spotlight, and it is involved in the development of major Nintendo titles such as The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword (2011) and The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (2017), to name but a few, while continuing to work on the Xenoblade Chronicles franchise. Xenoblade Chronicles X (2015) served as a counterpoint to the original opus, borrowing its structure, but moving towards a very sci-fi story, under the writing of Kazuho Hyodo (Gundam SEED). The second numerical opus reveals the definite influence of japanimation on the development team - surely, because of its youth compared to the industry average. While Xenoblade Chronicles 2 (2017) was very well received, the sexualisation of the female characters did not go unnoticed and offended a part of the community.
Xenoblade Chronicles 3 thus appears to be a title that synthesises all of Monolith Soft's work. By presumably concluding the Xenoblade Chronicles series, it asserts that it learnt lessons from its predecessors. At the same time, it operates a return to the origins, since the title made no secret of being a retelling of Xenogears. Even the name of the protagonist, Noah, echoes the original name of the first game: Project Noah. For veterans of Xenogears and Xenosaga, the references are undeniable, right from the first few minutes. From similar exposition scenes to passages reused almost word for word, it is obvious that Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is a game of mourning: that of a project that never came to fruition, that of an era that is now over, that of a producer who must look to the future. It is therefore necessarily also a game that propels Monolith Soft towards new horizons and towards a breeze of renewal.
‘A tiny ripple has just been born in the world that surrounds them.’
The sequences that I find the strongest in JRPGs are those that manage to recontextualise the gameplay into a unique narrative proposition. Those who played Final Fantasy VI will of course remember the passage where Celes is on the solitary island, which opens the second section of the game. The Xeno franchise has always sought to impress through exploration. Cinematography has been a strength of the studio, and the most recent titles place a particular emphasis on the gigantic world, which overwhelms the characters, particles moving with the flow of time. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 takes these approaches and adds a large tinge of nostalgia and intertextuality, constantly referencing elements from previous titles, using players' memories to invoke particular emotions. The discovery of the Dannagh Desert or the Erythia Sea is bound to strike a chord with players who have done the first two Xenoblade Chronicles. In addition to the sense of vastness, both horizontal and vertical, these regions are also filled with a wistful quality. The edges of the map help to circumscribe this magic, making this universe a moment cut off from time: chasms that soar into a sea of clouds or waterfalls that flow to who-knows-where do not allow for a grasp of the horizon. What the player sees is infinity.
To make exploration more fluid, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 opts for a more direct narrative breakdown. The side quests and the main story rarely mix, so that it is possible to finish the game fairly quickly, ignoring the former. The strength of the game comes from the positioning of these side quests. They form, for each colony, a slow evolution towards the future: despite uninteresting objectives, they contextualise individuals within communities that seek to survive and find meaning in existence. Moreover, each quest directs the player to new locations, contributing to the organic nature of the exploration. Some may regret this approach, which makes exploring relatively linear, if you attach it to the resolution of side quests. As a corollary, finishing the exploration before the side quests empties them of some of their purpose. Nevertheless, it is an ideal way to get the player to interact with the world and to become familiar with hundreds of minor characters, whose lives make up and depict humanity in all its forms. This is probably why the side quests in Chapters 6 and 7 are the most compelling, as they have a solid narrative base to tell their story. Although still too short, these little vignettes of human life in Aionios work when put together.
While the game design is geared towards accessibility for the general public, with Monolith Soft understanding that several dozen hours is an investment that is increasingly difficult to make for the completion of an RPG, it is apparent that the ideal experience requires total completion – prior to passing the point of no return. This is perhaps one of the pitfalls of Xenoblade Chronicles 3. Apart from the assiduous player who fully completes the side quests before tackling the final hours of the main story – which I did – the title fails to combine the contemplation of the world with its thematic discourse. Haunted by the question of existentialism and the future, like the other Xeno games, it takes a very similar setting to Xenogears with two nations at war and the couple of Noah and Mio, largely echoing Fei and Elly. The same questions are asked, especially from the beginning of Chapter 6. The issue with Xenoblade Chronicles 3 could be the density of its cast, preventing us from dwelling too long on the trials and tribulations of each character. The protagonists' side quests are completed in barely an hour, resulting in personality changes that are sometimes a little abrupt. Sena's quest is a perfect example of this problem, as it has very little to do with Sena, but seeks to conclude a narrative thread explored in the previous two chapters. The heroes' quests are also too short, although they suffer less from this: some even manage to be very effective, within the narrative structure of their colony. Colony Mu is certainly the most successful in this respect.
The protagonists also engage with each other much more and always offer feedback, even in very minor quests, which helps the game to be more digestible. Admittedly, the relative silence of Noah and Mio, due to their propensity for introspection, can clash with the pace of their development, especially when compared to the very strong personalities of Lanz, Eunie or Taion. A real arborescence of relationships is created by a very rich voice acting. The English version I chose continues the tone of the previous games, with definite English, Scottish, Irish or Welsh accents; the writing adapts to it and one could almost believe that the game was first written in English, so much the mannerisms and idioms are naturally used. They also help to enliven the world by bringing an extra touch of humanity, with characters being rougher in their diction and speech. The English version of Eunie is completely different from her Japanese counterpart, much more focused and less expressive. It's a personal choice, but I think that playing in English – even if one can lose some cultural nuance – contributes to the singularity of the adventure that Xenoblade Chronicles 3 offers.
‘Your fate was sealed when you rose against us!’
The combat system is also smoother and clearer than its predecessors. Xenoblades Chronicles 3 introduces the concept of Fusions Arts, which allow battles to always have a steady tempo. The title combines the systems of two Xenoblade Chronicles – Agnian attacks are charged with auto-attacks, while Keves' ones are on a fixed timer - to provide a welcome variation in gameplay. Each battle benefits from the player's attention to the positioning of the various characters, as well as the combination of different abilities, to maximise damage via the effects created by combos. The result is almost cinematic sequences, sometimes lasting for dozens of seconds, in which the player finds themselves switching between characters very quickly to unleash a series of coordinated attacks. In particular, it is very easy to mix up attacks thanks to the cancel animation of the Fusions Arts. The Interlink is also a mechanic that keeps the fight very aggressive. It can be used in two ways: either the player uses it when they are level 3 to maximise the damage output, or they can use it defensively to protect a character whose life has dropped severely, as the Interlink provides invincibility.
The show really culminates in the Chain Attacks, which are much more understandable than their counterparts in previous Xenoblade Chronicles. The concept is simplified to opening each round with a damage dealer, then using a healer before closing with a tank: a simple formula that encourages the use of Chain Attacks. The influence of Persona 5 (2016) seems obvious, but Xenoblade Chronicles 3 takes a much more grandiose route with its catchy musical theme and cinematography that supports the power of the blows dealt to the enemy. One might regret that these attacks are so powerful that they become a convenient expedient for finishing any fight quickly: boss fights often come down to surviving until their life drops below two-thirds, before unleashing a powerful Chain Attack – unless the player is already crushing the opposition with their level difference.
In essence, the combat system allows for a real sense of empowerment during battle, without being difficult to pick up. While it is possible for veterans to build a very custom team by changing the classes of each character, the game gives clear advice for those who are not adept at the genre: simply keep a balanced formation (two damage dealers, two healers, two tanks and the hero as a joker) to create an effective team and cover one's back. In the same way, if it is possible to spend long moments choosing skills, arts and other accessories, the title leaves the possibility of using a standardised build, with regard to the acquired skills and equipment, by pressing the Y button in the character menu. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 pursues Monolith Soft's broad-based philosophy, reversing the mistakes that previous combat systems have made; at the same time, the title still offers difficult challenges for the most seasoned players. Excluding the Challenges, the ultimate peak of difficulty is found in the hunt for Aionios' biggest monsters. Four of them must first be killed before the game's most powerful enemy – whose base level is 120 – can be faced.
The variety of side quests, which sometimes require a specific hero in the team, contributes to the diversity of the combat system, as the composition of the party often changes. In the same way, since skills and arts are shared between classes, it is strongly advised to switch from one to another often, in order to unlock all the abilities. Meanwhile, raising a hero class to level 10 unlocks its Ascension Quest, a convenient reason to constantly try new compositions. Thus, it is quite unlikely that the player already has a fixed team in the first part of the game: personally, it was not until chapter 6 that I did not change classes anymore, having already gained enough experience to unlock all the Ascension Quests.
‘It's okay not to feel whole. A part... is better than zero.’
In 2016, my girlfiend passed away. It was a few months after we had played Xenogears together. The golden age of JRPGs established character development as a central part of its plot: if one must save the world, one must also save oneself. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is a game that balances between the quest for the future and the chains of regret. In 2016, I was still a teenager whose life was difficult and whose ordeal of grief was a silent acid burn. Even today, something is missing. There is still a hole in my chest that won't close: you can throw words, thoughts, emotions into it, but it is a black hole that refuses to fill. The pain of mourning is one of the most existential, because it is at the intersection of life and death. It is felt only by beings who are essentially separated: some are still living, others have left the world. Nothing can bridge this fundamental divide. The living are not meant to live with the dead.
My thoughts on this subject are not settled. My mourning is not over. On the scale of my life, six long years represent an interminable pilgrimage in search for an answer. Nevertheless, I have managed to find some truths that content me, if not fully satisfy me. When I think of my self of a few years ago, I see a creature that has been so painfully wounded by fate. It's hard to understand, at that age, why life can be so unforgiving. The resentment I harboured at that time was directed at myself. Doubts and guilt threw me into the throes of loneliness and despair. 'What if...' asks the cracked soul, in the hope that events that have already happened would have turned out differently. When drifting on this sea of darkness, any wooden plank is a salutary reef, at least to hold on a little longer. I regret that my self could not experience Xenoblade Chronicles 3, as my still developing mind could have found answers in the game's narrative.
If the title continues in the anime turn of the 2010s, with a generally juvenile writing style, it does so with a real sincerity. The questions asked are those of teenagers or young adults: they echo those I have experienced myself. As such, some sequences are particularly touching and give a glimpse of a terribly sensitive humanity, if not subtly expressed. The climax of Chapter 5 presents the emotions of the protagonists, taken on the spur of the moment. It is a torrent of emotions that pours out in a few minutes, after the silences and the unspoken words that punctuated the previous chapters. Of course, not everything works. Some scenes are too brief and superficial. Where Taion's quest works because of its pace and the poetic composition of its setting, Eunie's quest seems too hasty and too cheap to be convincing.
This gives the impression of a somewhat convenient sentimentalism, which is not exclusive to Xenoblade Chronicles 3, as it seems almost part of the DNA of modern JRPGs. This turn is noticeable in the 2000s, but has recently resulted in the placement of maudlin scenes in key sections of a game. Final Fantasy XV (2016) has several moments of great emotional intensity, but they seem almost disconnected from the rest of the experience. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 doesn't fail at the same pitfall, because the characters constantly interact with each other, even if some have to wait until the last few chapters for their development to finally begin - this is especially true of Sena. But because the characters are these teenagers, caught in a world they didn't choose, the doubts, the tears and the joys feel genuine. It is hard not to be touched by their experiences.
‘The future, it really is a foreign country...’
These experiences seem natural, because they echo those of post-Fukushima Japanese society. Through a web of parallels, Aionios evokes, to varying degrees and with greater or lesser accuracy, the difficulties of Japanese youth in the face of capitalism and the feeling of abandonment experienced over the past several decades. At the beginning of the 1990s, Japan experienced a major economic slump, caused both by the bursting of the real estate bubble and the weakening of banks' investment in businesses [1]. With the failure of Keynesian policies, Japan found itself trapped by its overspecialisation and its tendency to invest only in its domestic market. This psychological closure of Japanese companies to foreigners, despite government trends towards deregulation and the effects of globalisation, has deeply affected Japanese society to this day. From being an economic model for the world, Japan has become synonymous with structural problems, a discourse echoed by the Japanese themselves. This declinist impression is also fuelled by the country's demographic collapse and the failure of educational reforms in Japan. These reforms have increased inequality and divided the country in terms of access to employment: as a result, the number of applicants to universities has fallen, and with it the quality of the education system [2]. For young people, the consequences are manifold. The difficulty in accessing employment has created a distrust of the education system and of globalisation. Because traditional solidarities have also been eroded, young adults are waiting longer to enter into a relationship and a significant proportion of them are struggling to integrate into society, which official discourse wrongly groups under the term hikikomori.
Recent studies have pointed out that Japanese youth generally consider themselves happy, but without any hope for the future [3]. This essential contradiction is echoed in Xenoblade Chronicles 3, where armies of teenagers and young adults seem to find contentment in the relentless fighting, but without ever really thinking about the future. They survive in a universe imposed on them by various authorities. If the Castles illustrate the weight of government (in)action in their lives, the Consuls appear as a representation of the corporatist spirit in Abe's Japan, where everything is a question of productivity and efficiency, to the detriment of the employees' very well-being. Soldiers in the various colonies must continue their task - attacking other ones - at the risk of being destroyed by the system to which they contribute. Unable to develop their individuality, they do not find solidarity beyond the battle lines. Throughout the game, the terms 'culture' and 'family' are foreign to the characters. It is through the exploration of their repressed emotions that they are able to describe these concepts, associating them with a positive valence. As such, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is part of a precise ideological discourse, which challenges the Japanese policies of the last decades and tries to suggest ways forward for the Japanese youth.
Aionios is a world that is riddled with the notion of risk. In addition to the constant fighting, the threat of the Annihilation with the Black Fog clouds is an echo of the doubts that have plagued Japanese society since the Fukushima accident. This was caused by a combination of natural hazards and the myth of the total safety for Japanese nuclear power plants: for a country already accustomed to earthquakes and tsunamis, the Fukushima disaster has aggravated fears and discredited the political class. In Xenoblade Chronicles 3, the theme is never discussed in depth, but it serves as a framework for the universe, whose existence is always endangered by nature or human action. It is not surprising that the Annihilator works on the model of the Annihilations.
Building on these elements, the title also seems drawn to the fantasy of a traditional Japan. The image of cherry blossoms - Saffronia, in the game - recurs repeatedly to evoke a peaceful existence. As mentioned above, the representation of the nuclear family is widely emphasised. The birth of infants is a new vision for the soldiers of Keves and Agnus, to the point where the game makes conception sacred, through several quests and cutscenes. These elements must be understood in the context of Japan's demographic decline. The failure of Japan's recent birth policies can be explained by the Abenomics, which have done little to address gender inequalities in the workplace [4]. The difficulty for women to support themselves pushes back the idea of having children. This idea is present in the game, where some female characters seem concerned about procreation, which is largely ignored by their male counterparts. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 thus struggles to construct a discourse on family that corresponds to the aspirations of youth: it advocates a traditional, heterosexual nuclear family and never manages to break out of this framework. If Noah and Mio's relationship seems to be attached to a critique of patriarchy, it is only vilified in its most extreme forms. The title never features homosexual relationships and perpetuates a conservative ideology, under the guise of defending the future. Xenoblade Chronicles 3, because it is a game about forced change, is shrouded in the ghosts of Japanese conservatism and traditionalism.
‘It's now so clear to me that you're still far away – a step away.’
Just as Xenogears was a foundational experience in my relationship with my girlfriend, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is a game that allows me to let go of the teenager regrets I still feel. Despite the revamps brought to life by projects like Octopath Traveler (2018), the Final Fantasy Pixel Remaster Collection (2021) or the Live A Live remake (2022), the golden age of the JRPG is a thing of the past. These games fail to fully capture the atmosphere of the 1990s and early 2000s, as the socio-cultural context has changed. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is not a mindless throwback, but a synthesis of the themes carried by Xenogears and Xenosaga, the game design philosophy at the heart of Xenoblade Chronicles and current Japanese society. There are many things that don't work completely in the game, in its narrative or the way it presents its universe, and it is sometimes regrettable that the title doesn't go through with its intentions. But for me, it has a nostalgic aura to it, without giving in to archaism. It's a game of mourning, situated in the gap between the past and the future. The 'now' that Moebius so ardently defends is destined to come to an end, like our present time.
There are so many things I would have loved to do with you. So many discussions I would have wished to have with you, but you are no longer here. Or rather, you reside in me and it is through my future actions that I can pay tribute to your existence. One day we will meet again, that is a promise. But it's now so clear to me that you're still far away – a step away. For now, this is where we belong. Good night, my Claire, my beloved.
_________
[1] Kobayashi Keiichiro, 'The two 'lost decades' and macroeconomics', in Barak Kushner (ed.), Examining Japan's Lost Decades, Routledge, London, 2015.
[2] Kariya Takehiko, 'The two lost decades in education', in Barak Kushner (ed.), op. cit.
[3] Carola Hommerich, 'Anxious, stressed, and yet satisfied? The puzzle of subjective well-being among young adults in Japan', in Barbara Holthus, Wolfram Manzanreiter (ed.), Life Course, Happiness and Well-being in Japan, Routledge, London, 2017.
[4] Mark Crawford, 'Abe's Womenonics Policy, 2013-2020: Tokenism, Gradualism, or Failed Strategy?', in The Asia-Pacific Journal, vol. 19-4-4, 2021.
3 Comments
Incredible review!
This was utterly phenomenal. A friend shared this to me and I had to create an account and give my appreciation.
Props.
Props.
Cadensia
1 year ago
Thus, all the pacing issues, lack of connection with previous games, less memorable overworld soundtracks, lack of depth in the universe, inability to blend game design and narration, etc. were less critical to me, although very legitimate points. I mostly agree with the impressions of Woodaba's review, although it wasn't a game-breaker for me. To know if those issues lie within Monolith Soft or not, we'll have to wait for another game, in another series.