Nine Sols Review

Nine Sols is an action platformer focused on defensive play and precisely timed counters. It is set on a technologically advanced interstellar colony ship, the New Kunlun, whose inhabitants resemble the deities and mythic creatures of east Asian mythology. I play as Yi, a Solarian and one of the ten Sols who comprise the ship’s ruling council. As the story begins, Yi is betrayed and attacked by the other Sols. Miraculously, he survives, recuperating in hiding within a village of Apemen the Solarians secretly foster within the ship. He forms a particularly strong bond with a young Apeman named Shuanshuan, a relationship that forces Yi to shatter the Solarian’s masquerade when the boy is chosen for a ritual sacrifice. With his survival revealed to the rest of the Sols, Yi sets out across the ship to confront his attempted murderers. His quest reveals the conflict that caused his peers to betray him and the nefarious purpose of the captive Apemen community as he engages in ferocious one-on-one duels with the other nine Sols.

Yi is ambushed by another Sol and nearly killed.

Nine Sols is heavily focused on its combat mechanics, to the point that if a player isn’t looking to specifically engage with them, they should not play at all. There are other design elements of note to experience. Getting to them without first being immersed in the combat simply isn’t possible.

When I first assume control of his avatar, Yi seems like an unremarkable player character. He can move left and right through New Kunlun’s side-scrolling environments, jump between platforms, and attack with a spectral blade. If he attacks with the blade three times in quick succession, the third blow is an overhead arc that deals slightly more damage than the first two swings. Wonderful action platformers have been built on smaller movesets.

Yi counters a sword swing with his bare hand.

Yi’s final starting ability is the kernel from which the rest of Nine Sols’ combat springs forth. With the press of a button, I direct Yi to counter an oncoming attack. He does this by literally slapping the blow away with a bare hand, even if it comes from a cutting blade or piercing arrow. 

How successful Yi is at countering depends on how close the timing of my button press is to the impact of the enemy’s attack. If it is exact, Yi will harmlessly deflect the attack accompanied by a pleasing and musical clang. If it is off by fractions of a second, Yi will still deflect the attack, but also take internal damage, a special type of damage that appears as a shadow on his hit point meter. Internal damage slowly regenerates over time unless Yi takes a direct blow, when he will suffer the full amount of internal damage instantly on top of the direct blow’s damage. If my timing is completely wrong, the counter will fail and Yi will take the full blow to his hit point meter. 

Red flourishes indicate an enemy’s attack cannot be blocked by Yi’s basic counter.

Enemy animations indicate how I should respond to an imminent attack. White flourishes around the enemy’s weapon means it can be countered. Red flourishes mean it is a crushing blow which will power through a counter and should be dodged. Some attacks are telegraphed, giving me time to recognize what is coming and prepare Yi to respond. Many are not; the only way to know how to counter some enemies is to fight and potentially die against them many times until I learn their attack patterns. Death is not a failure in Nine Sols. It is part of a process towards success.

I typically expect visual clues like these to remain consistent throughout the entirety of a videogame. Nine Sols subverts my expectations. As Yi explores New Kunlun and tallies a bodycount of his fellow Sols, he learns additional counters that may overcome even the most powerful blows. These new counters have more elaborate methods for activation, requiring additional setup on top of even more precise timing. The practice and skill demanded by these techniques are why Nine Sols is a hard videogame, perhaps the hardest I have reviewed for this website so far.

Yi uses an advanced countering technique to interrupt the Sol Jiequan’s most powerful attack.

Yi is rewarded with more than avoiding damage for a successful counter. A precisely timed counter adds a charge of Qi Energy to a counter beneath his hit point meter. Using a simple dash attack, Yi may attach a talisman to a foe in exchange for these charges. Talismans may be compelled to explode using a number of different techniques. It doesn’t take me long to learn that talismans are far more powerful than Yi’s sword and to rely on them for most of the damage he deals to enemies.

Nine Sols does a good job easing me into its countering mechanic. Most enemies Yi faces throughout New Kunlun are dressed in monochromatic armor with wide-brimmed hats and wield katanas and halberds. It’s possible to struggle past these foes with frantic sword swings and quick use of the dash-dodge ability. Yi may heal any damage he takes by taking a moment to puff on his herbal pipe, though its charges are limited and only refreshes at save points dotted sparingly around the ship. Inevitably, his resources are worn down by enemy attacks.

Yi dashes through an enemy attack while attaching an explosive talisman to their body.

If Yi were to somehow struggle past the basic enemies without countering, then the Nine Sols themselves would stop him cold. Each is intricately designed, unleashing long attack strings which I must learn to recognize and help Yi to endure. Countering all of their attacks demands such precise timing and maneuvering that it transforms Nine Sols into a kind of rhythm videogame. The excellent sound design aids me greatly; when I am doing well, the clangs signifying Yi’s perfectly timed counters echo the sounds emitted by the Sols’ attacks, like a deadly game of Simon. The latter half of the Sols council attack with such untiring zeal that countering all of their attacks and responding with talisman explosions is effectively the only way to harm them at all.

Defeating a boss is an important milestone in a videogame. It represents a particular and unique challenge that marks not only the player’s progress towards the story’s ending but also their improvement as a player within the videogame’s unique ruleset. When a boss introduces some new idea while remaining challenging and fair, defeating them can be incredibly rewarding. Some videogames expand upon this idea by giving the boss something normally only conferred to the player character: another chance. After struggling through the latest boss fight, it can be a shock to see them rise again and come back for more, pushing harder and faster than before. When a boss’ second phase is done well, defeating it can compound the sense of accomplishment at overcoming their first.

The Sol Fuxi appears to be defeated before rising for a second phase.

Nine Sols finds a way to do second phases badly: overuse them. Every single boss in Nine Sols’ latter half has at least two phases, complete with a fakeout death scene. It ceases to be a surprise. It ceases to have an impact. And they change my feelings about the first phases. They no longer feel like an important component of the boss fight. They feel like filler, an annoyance Yi must fight through to get to the real boss concealed beyond their first hit point meter. Each boss’ second phase is even more tenacious than their first, demanding an equal level of persistence at learning their mechanics to endure them. Having to slog through their first phase on every attempt interferes with learning their second phase and begins to feel like a punishment.

Nine Sols’ final boss fight is no exception. It has two phases, and potentially even three depending on how many collectables Yi finds throughout New Kunlun. In another videogame, their first phase alone would be a satisfactory final challenge before the conclusion to the player character’s story. Their second phase feels like overkill. My annoyance at repeating their first phase, the difficulty of completing their second, and my exhaustion with the whole idea of multi-phase boss fights finally breaks me. I will admit it here: I cannot beat the final boss of Nine Sols.

Story Mode gives me full control over how much damage Yi takes and deals.

Thankfully, Nine Sols accommodates me with a generous difficulty modifier. Its default state is called the Standard Mode, and it is an incredibly tough and scrupulously fair videogame. At any time, I may switch from Standard to Story Mode. This mode lets me focus entirely on Nine Sols’ story by giving me full control over how much damage Yi takes and deals. I can make minute adjustments to find a compromise that feels right, or just bottom out enemy damage to 1% and the player character’s damage to 1000% to bulldoze through everything that gets in Yi’s way.

Before Yi can challenge the Nine Sols, he must first locate them within New Kunlun. The ship’s interior is divided into multiple regions, each reflecting an area of expertise studied by the Sol who rules it. A massive river dominates one area devoted to agricultural studies, forcing Yi to cross using crumbling bridges and boats pulled by miserable, protesting serpents. Later, Yi visits a forge where the Sol’s first soldiers are created through genetic engineering. It is powered by machines endlessly hammering a colossal anvil with so much force, the heat they generate periodically overwhelms the entire area like a volcanic eruption. If Yi does not take shelter within a building or behind a protective shield, he quickly burns to death. A late region is the Empyrean District, a space meant for New Kunlun’s wealthiest and most influential inhabitants. The District is eerily deserted. When Yi finally finds its survivors, they have debased themselves into an endless drug-fueled orgy—thankfully, mostly hidden in the background—while the District around them is consumed by a mutant plague.

Yi steers the Mystic Nymph through a hazardous passage.

Yi explores these regions through the familiar conventions of a non-linear platformer. As he progresses through the story, he gains new abilities that increase the number of areas he may access. The first ability he discovers is the Mystic Nymph, a small flying drone with limited range that allows glimpses into otherwise unreachable areas. The drone may also activate some buttons and computers to unseal doors and release ladders. The rest of Yi’s platforming toolkit is more predictable, including the reliable air dash and the venerable double jump.

While representing a significant portion of New Kunlun’s space, non-linear platforming should not be mistaken as a major part of Nine Sols. Each area is self-contained, consisting of only two or three large spaces. An obvious path winds through most of them. Sidepaths typically lead to shortcuts that make the return trip following Yi’s next death a little quicker, not to rewarding secrets. Most spaces exist to create places for combat to occur. Non-linear platforming enthusiasts hoping to add another Metroidvania to their pile may be disappointed by what they find on board this spaceship.

Yi fights off monsters on the surface of a ferry pulled by a miserable serpent.

The emphasis of combat over non-linear exploration is not to suggest that New Kunlun is devoid of collectables. Yi discovers most of them by completing optional combat challenges and gauntlets. He buys others from a pacifist bio-organic weapon named Chiyou using gold scraps collected from defeated enemies. 

Most collectables have no immediate use. Yi must first bring them back to the Pavilion, a small sanctuary hidden from the other Sols where his few allies take shelter. By delivering collectables and a generous donation of gold to his companions, Yi may expand his resources. Herb vials and catalysts increase the number of healing puffs and their effectiveness Yi may take from his pipe. Refined metal increases the power of his arrowheads, powerful and limited weapons that can be decisive in a tight battle. Potent poisons may be delivered to an antisocial Apeman with an unusual metabolism, who rewards Yi for these treats with alcoholic brews that expand his hit point meter.

Artifacts safeguarded around New Kunlun may be gifted to Shuanshuan in the Pavilion.

The remaining collectables are Solarian artifacts Yi may deliver to Shuanshuan, the young Apeman Yi befriends while recovering from the Sols’ first ambush. These are simultaneously the least impactful, and yet most important collectables. Each artifact opens a dialog-driven cutscene where Yi instructs Shuanshuan in its use, which can range from a musical instrument to a pottery wheel to a board game. The skills Shuanshuan develops during these sessions are often expanded upon in an additional cutscene the next time Yi visits the Pavilion.

These numerous cutscenes are long-winded and tell me more about Shuanshuan than they do about Yi. I grow weary of them long before I’ve seen them all. It turns out that Shuanshuan, an excitable child who doesn’t realize how much he annoys the adults around him, is the most important person in the narrative. I can’t know this unless I gift him with all the Solarian artifacts stashed around New Kunlun and endure all the talking about how talented Shuanshuan is at everything. Delivering every artifact, and completing a few other arbitrary tasks, is how I unlock Nine Sols’ true ending.

Interactions with Shuanshuan revolve around Yi marveling at how good the child is at everything.

The relentless focus on Shuanshuan is frustrating because I am far more interested in Yi. His appointment aboard New Kunlun and his role within the Sols council is filled in by flashbacks and log entries. When Yi finally finds the journal that clarifies his culpability in the events happening aboard the ship, most of the Sols are dead and he reads the entry alone. Yi already knows everything it says. Shuanshuan never learns who his protector really is. It’s text that exists for my benefit alone. The “twist,” if such an obvious outcome can be called one, arrives with the impact of a wet noodle.

It’s a strange way to close the book on Yi’s character because Nine Sols gives me many chances to amplify his positive or negative traits. Yi adds map data to the interface by speaking with Shanhai robots in each sector. He can either pay each robot a fee for the data, or rip out their circuits through an animation that looks unsettlingly like Yi is disemboweling them with his bare hands. If I choose for Yi to do the latter, he gets the data for free and I earn an achievement. Later, Shuanshuan molds a decorative circle out of metal and gifts it to Yi. He can keep it as a memento, or recycle it for a large pile of gold… and another achievement. Later still, Shuanshuan makes a clay pot and puts it on display in the Pavilion. If Yi smashes it, I earn yet another achievement.

Yi rips the navigational data from the circuits of a Shanhai robot.

Nine Sols seems to present me with its idea of a compelling thought exercise: Would I rather Yi be a good person or unlock achievements? The exercise falls apart because there seems to be no downside to going for the achievements. Shuanshuan doesn’t care when Yi destroys his art. If anything happens after disabling the Shanhai robots other than Yi saving several thousand gold pieces, it is not apparent what it is. No matter how Yi treats his ward or the robots, he is still responsible for his other deeds aboard New Kunlun. Binary “moral choices” are laughable cliches in videogames after decades of overuse. Nine Sols surprises me with a new way of designing a series of allegedly difficult trolley problems: Make their outcomes utterly meaningless.

If you plan to play Nine Sols, come for its combat. The counter-centric battles Yi engages with the nine treacherous Sols and their army of bio-engineered soldiers are some of the most challenging I’ve completed in a videogame in many years—or tried to complete, since the final boss’ unrelenting difficulty broke my patience. I do eventually grow annoyed with the boss’ over-reliance on “surprise” second phases, though this may be a personal feeling I do not expect to be reflected by every player. The best argument for Nine Sols is the challenge it presents to its player. It may also be the best argument against it. Every reader of this review will know for themselves if they’re up for the fight. 

Yi confronts a Sol in the heart of New Kunlun.

I criticize Nine Sols’ other elements. Its non-linear environments are too small to be interesting. Its collectables are easy to find. When turned in, they prompt overlong cutscenes I have to force myself not to skip. Nine Sols wants Yi to be a tragic character. I just find him a detestable one. None of these complaints stand against the satisfaction I feel when Yi confronts his next opponent and raises his hand against their blade with a satisfying clang.

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