Celestial Return

There are games inspired by classics, and then there are games that base almost their entire identity on them. {Celestial Return} falls into the latter category. From the very start, it's clear the developers have played copious amounts of {Disco Elysium} and {Citizen Sleeper}. It's a rainy cyberpunk world filled with existential musings, peculiar characters, and cosmic horrors, where dialogue takes centre stage and almost every decision is determined by a roll of the dice. The only problem is that it never quite manages to make the leap from homage to something that feels genuinely its own.

Howard and his expressive senses - a device we've seen a few times now.

That doesn't mean Celestial Return lacks qualities. Quite the opposite. The world-building is, at times, fantastic. Netherveil is a city that reeks of decay, desperation, and corporate dystopia, and the environments often succeed in conveying the illusion of a place where everything is on the verge of collapse. The art style is stylish, the soundscape is spot on, and several of the game's characters feel far more vivid than I'd expected. There's a clear creative vision here, and it's easy to appreciate.

What's the game about? Well, in Celestial Return we follow former detective Howard, who, together with the peculiar, talking flower Daisy, attempts to solve a series of mysterious deaths in the dystopian city of Netherveil. The further the investigation progresses, the clearer it becomes the cases are linked to ancient cosmic forces that allow people to manipulate reality, influence minds, and defy the laws of nature. It soon becomes apparent, then, that Howard and Daisy are caught up in a conspiracy that could have disastrous consequences for the whole world.

Netherveil is the setting for the adventure.

The crux of the system is the dice serves as much more than just a way of determining whether you succeed or fail at various actions. The same dice are also used as a limited resource and even as currency. On paper, it sounds like a clever way to create tension, but in practice it mostly leads to frustration. Every decision becomes a calculation of whether it's even worth investigating something interesting, as a couple of bad rolls can leave you with no way to progress. On several occasions, I found myself in situations where the most effective option was to load an old save file. When a game encourages save scumming rather than creative problem-solving, the balance has gone awry.

The story is also something of a rollercoaster ride. The dialogue is often well-written and the game dares to be both strange and philosophical, but at the same time it feels as though the developers have become a little too enamoured with their own script. The pace drags, the conversations go on longer than they need to, and, after all, not all the characters feel interesting enough to justify the enormous amounts of text. At times, I mostly just sat there waiting to get back to playing.

Then there are a number of minor annoyances which, taken together, are hard to ignore. The inventory management feels cumbersome, the interface could have been considerably clearer, and the technical polish leaves something to be desired. None of these issues is catastrophic on its own, but together they create an experience that's constantly grating.

Daisy, whom we meet early on in the adventure, lives in Howard's pocket and plays a central role in the story.

It's almost a shame, because Celestial Return demonstrates time and again the potential that lies here. When the narrative, the music, and the dystopian atmosphere work in harmony, the game succeeds in creating precisely that heavy sense of hopelessness and curiosity the genre thrives on. But those moments are never frequent enough to make up for a game system that mostly feels counterproductive and a structure that often gets in its own way.

I think many people will appreciate Celestial Return far more than I did, especially if they're starved for story-driven cyberpunk role-playing games. For my part, however, it mostly feels like a game that has understood what made its role models good, but not quite why they worked. The result is a competent debut with plenty of ambition, but also a reminder of how difficult it is to step out of the shadow of the games you're trying to emulate and create something of your own.