Initial impressions of Oninaki, the latest game from Tokyo RPG Factory, creator of ethereal adventures I Am Setsuna and Lost Sphear, are strong. A fascinating world centred around reincarnation and regrets, sombre and elegant music, gorgeous art direction, and promising (though mashy) combat. But though the high-quality trappings remain, the ultimate core of this top-down action RPG is decidedly disappointing.
The setup begins decently enough: taciturn protagonist Kagachi is a “veil watcher”, able to travel between the worlds of the living and the dead in an instant. Watchers assist lost spirits towards reincarnation by helping them deal with their earthly attachments – or by putting them down when they otherwise turn into shadowy monsters. In a world thus centred around mortality, plenty of fascinating topics arise including death cults, assisted suicide, serial killers and the societal role of your own little band of psychopomps.
But the possibilities of an emotionally resonant tale around life, death, regret and acceptance dissolve the further you progress. Before long, the wandering souls of the dead become little more than quest-givers, monstrous enemies or walking plot points for the game’s lengthy, somewhat unengaging story. It’s not helped by the lack of connection fostered with the game’s various characters, practically demanding that you care about their various fates despite an absence of empathy-building or familiarity beforehand. The few you do see more often – including a mysterious waif who follows you around in the guise of a spectral butterfly – do tend to grow on you a little, which makes it all the more irritating that the rest of the cast gets such short shrift.
Despite Kagachi’s ability to phase between reality and the shadowy world beyond, there’s nothing in the dungeon exploration that really demands shifting between the two besides the occasional portal or treasure chest. No puzzles, no alternative routes, nothing. The game therefore becomes, structurally, a mostly fixed cycle of running in a straight line through a variety of dungeons, beating up (or getting beaten up by) a boss, then watching a cutscene. Rinse and repeat.
All of that could be excused if the game’s combat were consistently fulfilling, but there’s an annoying sense of lethargy and weightiness to your actions. The speed and range of enemy attacks practically demands a kinetic, reactive playstyle based around animation cancelling and invincibility frames, but your own abilities are designed for a slower, more deliberate style of combat where you’re forced to commit to your actions, meaning you’re going to get hit a lot by attacks you can easily see coming.
It’s a fundamental mismatch of design philosophies that contributes to an overarching sense of immense frustration, especially when married to smaller issues like being unable to see your own character under a flurry of glowing particle effects and hulking enemies, or being trapped in stun by an now-unavoidable series of attacks. There is admittedly a certain joy to be found in battle when everything lines up just right, but it’s at least equalled by the amount of times I wanted to fling my Switch into a wall.
The truly annoying part is that there is a legitimately good game to be found buried within Oninaki’s misshapen core. Your weapons – termed “daemons” here, embodied by a character and each with their own little unlockable story, which is probably the best writing in the game – each possess a sprawling skill tree boasting a variety of abilities that I was eager to experiment with. Some even unlock limited versions of the aforementioned animation-cancelling abilities, alongside quick-switch options and other ways to mix up your playstyles, which is enjoyable to explore (apart from the fact that it’s all locked behind a certain amount of grinding, depending on the weapon in question). Add to this a light loot system and you have the beginnings of a satisfying experience, although the game only very occasionally delivers on this promise.
Oninaki’s sin, then, is to be so achingly close to quality and yet so far; to have almost everything needed for a top-tier role-playing game – an interesting premise, hauntingly evocative aesthetics, a deep and complex approach to combat – only to be betrayed by fundamental issues that keep it tied to this earthly realm. Perhaps on the next go-around, if it is reborn back into this world (or gets a sequel), it’ll retain a memory of its errors.
