Star Fire: Eternal Cycle Review

Making a completely awful video game is not easy. You will undoubtedly allow part of your true enthusiasm to show over the months and years of production because of the enormous amount of talent and effort needed.

In many respects, a game is only genuinely unsuccessful when it lacks soul—when that artistic enthusiasm is completely absent. Even though it is riddled with confusing decisions and shoddy presentation, Star Fire: Eternal Cycle, the inaugural project from Ethereal Fish Studio, manages to show sparks of life despite several blunders.

Before the game came out on Steam, Ethereal Fish Studio improved their work through playtests and a long demo campaign, slowly working toward this product. Their idea was simple: mix the addictive unpredictability of roguelites with the fast-paced action of classic beat 'em ups, and then cover the whole thing with anime-style flash animation. The result is a roguelite arcade side-scroller that is rough, uneven, and tonally ambiguous, but also chaotic, stylish, and occasionally great.

Year 7 of the Apocalypse, 2149 AD, is the setting for Star Fire: Eternal Cycle. The Earth is in ruins, ripped apart by lunar cracks that release countless swarms of terrifying insects. While Dawn Station, humanity's last stronghold, flickers beneath deteriorating shields, the Hive's hideous neural network beats beneath the crust like a live heart. The 127th and last counterattack starts at this point.

Although Star Fire: Eternal Cycle rarely devotes itself to writing, this gloomy setting seems like the prelude to a game that is largely narratively oriented. Rather, the majority of its worldbuilding is presented in bits and pieces through memory chips you gather in between battles and lore blurbs.

In addition to disturbing elements like bosses that eat babies or weapons made from human corpses, these fragments allude to the end of humanity and the diversion of planetary energy into lunar forges. However, your quiet heroine never acknowledges these grotesque, sad moments, and they are rarely linked to the bright, toy-like foes that swarm the stages. Tonal whiplash is the outcome.

One minute you're sifting through neon bug warriors who appear to have strayed from a tokusatsu set, and the next you're reading about horror novel-level atrocities. Although the fragments are intriguing, they feel more like random shock value put in the middle of a story without any meaning or payoff.

Your character doesn't have a name, a voice, or much background information. In actuality, the story becomes less of a motivating factor and more of a thin thematic accent. The tale is not the lore cards that occasionally reveal disturbing secrets, but rather the mayhem you wreak throughout Hive territory as humanity's last gauntlet-wielding warrior.

The battle loop of roguelite arcade games is where Star Fire: Eternal Cycle excels. Fundamentally, this is a side-scrolling beat 'em up with roguelike elements, which means that each run takes place in randomly selected arenas connected by branching paths and increasing difficulty.

Combat starts out simply: you have a dash that may be used as a dodge, a heavy strike that can be used to unleash a spectacular, half-screen special, and a light attack for quick combinations. These fundamentals quickly give way to a multi-layered system of gauge-level-based fury attacks, chained button-sequence actions, and passive perks that change your cooldowns, elemental affinities, or speed.

The range of weapons in Star Fire: Eternal Cycle is the real draw. Every weapon, from axes and iron gloves to hammers and flamethrowers, has a unique set of maneuvers, elemental strengths, and upgrading routes.

Costumes and auxiliary tools can be used to further modify weapons, enabling subtle changes to playstyles and stats. Certain elemental cores are inherent to each weapon; for example, the Gold Axe works in concert with gold-element modules, rewarding you for matching your build to your weapon's innate capabilities.

Runs are chaotic, fast-paced events that promote improvisation. It feels satisfying and punchy to chain attacks, dodge hordes of adversaries, and unleash screen-filling abilities. The game makes up for the lack of threat posed by enemies—attacks are well-telegraphed, and evading is somewhat forgiving—by overwhelming you with sheer numbers.

The excitement of slicing through many at once, even if the individual dangers are minor, is what makes it tick like other horde-fighting roguelites. Elemental cores, the game's primary progression mechanism, are essential to the combat system's success. Insectoid Cores are equippable stat boosts that are dropped by enemies.

When these cores are matched by element, they get added powers, such as the capacity to summon minions, give shields, boost elemental damage, or add levels of protection. The algorithm makes mini-builds every time you run it, and the fun comes from discovering combinations that make your weapon feel too powerful.

Three perk modules, each of which can change your build, are available to you at the conclusion of each arena. Do you spend money on speed, armor, or raw power? Do you seek uncommon elemental combinations that might change the course of your run? These choices add up rapidly, producing erratic momentum where every unsuccessful attempt is an opportunity to try out different configurations.

But the game has balancing issues. Despite their striking appearance, bosses are too squishy, making interactions monotonous slogs rather than exciting climaxes. Although enemies arrive in waves, only boredom or distraction usually leads to defeat due to how forgiving dodges are. Additionally, the core fighting may seem too simple until the late-game swarm numbers start to lean toward pandemonium, despite the perk system's compelling nature.

This system receives XP grinds through a twofold progression cycle. You gather perks and cores during runs, but they disappear when you die. However, in between runs, you can collect blue gems and other materials that grant you permanent abilities, such as increases in damage, survivability, or flexibility. This meta-progression feeds the compulsive "one more try" mentality and guarantees that even unsuccessful runs push you toward stronger builds.

Unfortunately, a severe grind undermines progress. The reward for unlocking new stages is frequently small—small improvements to your arsenal or abrupt, unsatisfactory endings that contribute little to the story—and takes several successful plays through more difficult levels. The grind soon saps the thrill of exploration, and the system feels bloated, as if it were made with microtransactions in mind.

The visuals in Star Fire: Eternal Cycle are appealing but not always consistent. The game has bright color palettes, glowing particle effects, and big energy beams that fill the screen, all of which add to its brilliant anime-inspired action.

Awash in vibrant colors and frantic effects, the environments change radically from boiling volcanoes and burnt deserts to frozen wastelands and sterile space stations. Using the same exaggerated anime flair that drives the fight, the cutscenes are well-drawn.

The audio rises to the occasion whenever the sights become too much to handle. During boss fights, the soundtrack occasionally shifts into heavier electronic sounds, but it mostly focuses on throbbing synthwave.

The soundtrack frequently synchronizes flawlessly with the turmoil on screen, increasing suspense and accelerating the action. In keeping with the arcade vibe, the sound effects are loud, crunchy, and gratifyingly overblown.

The music design, like the images, doesn't always blend in with the somber narrative notes, though. The darker lore drops frequently feel even more out of place because of the lively, ostentatious music. The music and effects, however, are successful in maintaining a high level of adrenaline as a pure accompaniment to the chaotic battle.

The game Star Fire: Eternal Cycle has a ton of potential. The genre of beat 'em ups is incredibly underrepresented; therefore, the roguelite structure seems like a perfect fit. The addicting heart of roguelite design—unpredictable runs, layered advancement, and the thrill of evolving from a weak warrior to an unstoppable force—is evidently understood by Ethereal Fish Studio.

However, despite its advantages, the game suffers from poor execution. Although entertaining, the battle loop is weakened by mushy bosses and a poor adversary threat design. In principle, the advancement mechanism is rewarding, but it is hampered by a grind that is more discouraging than encouraging.

The gaudy yet erratic graphics run counter to the gloomy tone implied by the narrative. Furthermore, although the story is interesting in bits and pieces, it never develops sufficiently to support its more macabre or startling aspects.

Star Fire: Eternal Cycle now has the feel of a mobile game that was hurried to market, with padded progression and jagged edges that are set up for microtransactions that fortunately never happen. It's hard to suggest because of the grind, the tonal dissonance, and the absence of a clear vision.

It is not without worth, though. Cutting down waves of adversaries and creating an unstoppable run is a real joy when the elemental synergy and combat flow together. Even though, after everything is said and done, the experience feels superficial, it's easy to get swept up in the spectacle, the synthwave rhythms, and the arcade immediacy.