The cavernous silence of ZDR is broken only by the hum of ancient machinery and the skittering of unseen things in the shadows. Then comes the rhythmic thud of a powered boot, the sharp report of an Arm Cannon, and the guttural roar of something that should not exist. This is the symphony of Metroid Dread, a masterpiece that is at once a triumphant return to form and a bold evolutionary leap for the storied franchise. After a nineteen-year hiatus for the core side-scrolling entries, MercurySteam, under the stewardship of Nintendo EPD, did not merely revive Samus Aran’s 2D saga; they redefined it, honing it to a razor’s edge of mechanical perfection and narrative tension, crafting what is arguably the finest entry in the series and a strong contender for one of the greatest action-adventure games ever made.
The genius of Metroid Dread lies in its foundational understanding of the series’ core tenets: isolation, exploration, and empowerment. It embraces the “Metroidvania” structure it helped pioneer but executes it with a modern, relentless precision. The planet ZDR is a labyrinth of interconnected biomes, each a meticulously crafted ecosystem of beauty and terror. From the dripping, organic caverns of Artaria to the sterile, brutalist architecture of Burenia, every screen is a painting, every room a potential puzzle or combat arena. The game’s guiding hand is subtle yet firm. While the path is often linear in the macro sense, the moment-to-moment exploration is a constant delight of spotting a hidden block, remembering an unreachable ledge for later, or deciphering the environmental clues that point toward progression. It respects the player’s intelligence, rewarding curiosity with missile tanks, energy parts, and a profound sense of personal accomplishment that is never handed out gratuitously.
This impeccable world design is married to gameplay that feels sublime. Samus’s movement is a revelation. The addition of the slide allows for fluid transitions under low-clearance passages and into combat, while the melee counter—first introduced in Samus Returns—is fully integrated into the flow. It is no longer a mere defensive trick but an essential offensive tool, a high-risk, high-reward parry that opens enemies up to devastating finishers. This system culminates in boss fights that are nothing short of spectacular. Each encounter is a grueling dance of attrition and pattern recognition. From the primal fury of Kraid’s return to the terrifying, sleek efficiency of the mysterious Raven Beak, these battles are monumental tests of skill. They are punishing but never unfair, each death a lesson learned. Victory against these titans provides a surge of adrenaline and empowerment that is the series’ hallmark, made even sweeter by the flawless controls that ensure failure is always the player’s mistake, never the game’s.
Yet, for all its empowering upgrades—from the classic Wave Beam to the fantastic new Phantom Cloak and Pulse Radar—Metroid Dread ingeniously manufactures a pervasive sense of vulnerability through its central mechanic: the E.M.M.I. These robotic hunters are the embodiment of the game’s title. Confining Samus to specific “E.M.M.I. Zones,” they transform these areas from exploration hubs into horrifying arenards of cat-and-mouse survival. Their near-invulnerability and instant-kill capability create moments of genuine panic and heart-pounding tension rarely achieved in the medium. The sound design here is critical: the shift to a chilling, muted palette when an E.M.M.I. is nearby, the terrifying clatter of its pursuit, and the desperate blare of the Omega Cannon’s charge sequence all combine to create unforgettable set-pieces. While some may find their repetition slightly grating, their role in consistently resetting the player’s power level, reminding them that even a fully armed Samus can be prey, is a masterstroke of tonal management.
The narrative, too, is a quiet triumph. The 2D Metroid games have always been light on explicit storytelling, preferring environmental lore and the player’s embodied experience. Dread continues this tradition but weaves its threads into a more compelling tapestry than ever before. The mystery of the X Parasites’ return, the true purpose of the E.M.M.I., and the imposing figure of Raven Beak are drip-fed to the player with expert pacing. The story is told through brief chozo-language cutscenes, data logs, and, most effectively, through gameplay. The sheer physicality of Raven Beak’s dominance in early encounters tells you more about him than any monologue could. This culminates in a final act of stunning revelations and a climax that is both mechanically and narratively satisfying, tying back into the series’ deep lore while providing a definitive endpoint for the “Metroid” arc that began on the NES.
Visually, the game is a showcase for the Nintendo Switch. Using a refined version of the engine from Samus Returns, MercurySteam delivers incredibly detailed character and enemy models that are bursting with animation. Samus herself is a marvel, her suit scuffing and cracking under damage, her movements conveying weight and power. The environments, while perhaps not as openly interconnected as Super Metroid’s Crateria, are lush and dynamic, with parallax scrolling backgrounds that add immense depth. The soundtrack, while more atmospheric and less melodically iconic than earlier entries, perfectly complements the mood, building tension in the E.M.M.I. zones and swelling into epic, choir-driven themes during boss confrontations.
Is Metroid Dread perfect? Perhaps not. The pacing can occasionally stumble in the mid-game, and the overwhelming power of the final upgrades can make the last stretch feel slightly trivial until the final boss. Yet, these are minor quibbles in an otherwise flawlessly executed experience. It is a game that understands that “dread” is not just about fear, but about the awe-inspiring anticipation of facing the unknown. It is the dread of entering a new zone, the dread of hearing an E.M.M.I. nearby, the dread of a boss’s health bar appearing—and the unparalleled exhilaration of conquering that dread.
Metroid Dread is more than a return. It is a resurrection. It proves that the core principles of classic game design—tight controls, intricate world-building, and a rewarding loop of exploration and power growth—are not only still relevant but can be elevated to new heights with modern technology and design philosophy. It stands shoulder-to-shoulder with Super Metroid and Metroid Prime, not as a nostalgic imitation, but as an equal—a confident, brutal, and brilliant masterpiece that secures Samus Aran’s place as a timeless icon and announces that the soul of 2D Metroid is not just alive, but it is thriving. The galaxy may still be a dangerous place, but after this, one thing is certain: Samus is back, and she has never been better.
