TL;DR: A fast, stylish, nostalgia-soaked Terminator tribute that nails the vibe, stumbles slightly on length, but absolutely earns a replay or two. No problemo.

I booted up Terminator 2D: No Fate expecting a quick nostalgia hit. What I didn’t expect was how hard it would yank me backward in time—past modern consoles, past patch notes and roadmaps—straight into that very specific early-90s headspace where action movies ruled, arcades were loud, and games didn’t care if they politely overstayed their welcome. They just showed up, punched you in the face, rolled credits, and left you grinning.

The opening moments told me everything I needed to know. That endlessly scrolling road, the yellow lines cutting through darkness, the ominous industrial hum beneath it all. It’s not a one-to-one recreation of Terminator 2: Judgment Day’s ending monologue, but it doesn’t need to be. Instead of Sarah Connor whispering about fate and hope, I’m greeted with chunky text boxes laying out the grim inevitability of Judgment Day. Same vibe, different delivery. And somehow, that choice makes it feel more authentic as a game rather than a lazy movie retread. Right there, No Fate establishes its entire philosophy: deep respect for the source material, zero fear about bending it when it serves the gameplay.

Once the action starts, the game wears its influences loudly and proudly. This is Bitmap Bureau flexing decades of arcade DNA. The side-scrolling gunplay immediately evokes Contra, right down to the screen-filling chaos and enemies pouring in from every direction. But it doesn’t stop there. Within the first hour I felt echoes of Double Dragon, RoboCop, and even the kind of cruel-but-fair obstacle design that haunted my childhood afternoons in front of a CRT. There’s a moment early on where John Connor gets jumped and hauled off by a brute, and my brain instantly filled in the gap with memories of brawlers that smelled faintly of spilled soda and arcade carpet.

What impressed me most wasn’t the references themselves, but how confidently No Fate shifts genres on the fly. One minute I’m spraying bullets at chrome skeletons, the next I’m trading punches in a bar brawl as a naked T-800 casually reenacts one of cinema’s most iconic entrances. That bar scene is pure fan service, sure, but it’s clever fan service, turning the shooter into a brief beat-’em-up and sneaking in a jukebox gag that made me laugh out loud. It understands the rhythm of the film and knows exactly where to stretch a scene just enough to make it interactive without overstaying its welcome.

The absolute standout, though, is Sarah Connor’s escape from Pescadero Hospital. This is where Terminator 2D: No Fate stops feeling like a retro tribute and starts feeling genuinely inspired. The game slows down, the tension spikes, and suddenly I’m hiding in doorways while the T-1000 stalks the halls. It becomes a stealth game for a few glorious minutes, and somehow manages to be nerve-wracking despite everything being rendered in bold, blocky pixels. When the T-1000 bursts onto the screen, there’s a real jolt of panic. I know how this story goes. I’ve seen the movie dozens of times. It doesn’t matter. My hands still tightened around the controller.

Visually, this game is doing some serious heavy lifting. The cutscenes lean into digitised stills that feel ripped straight out of a 16-bit fever dream, while the in-game sprites are animated with absurd attention to detail. Sarah’s movement has weight. You can see momentum in the way her body swings as she climbs ladders. The T-1000 is a masterclass in pixel animation, from the way he copies a guard mid-murder to how he staggers backward under shotgun fire, silver wounds blooming across his chest. That animation alone perfectly captures Robert Patrick’s unnerving physicality. Cold, precise, relentless. Seeing him melt out of walls in the steel mill level gave me the same sick feeling I had watching Judgment Day as a kid, hiding behind the couch but refusing to look away.

The Future War missions, where you play as an older, battle-hardened John Connor, are a mixed bag. They’re fun, undeniably so, and packed with love letters to Contra, complete with familiar boss designs, plasma upgrades, and a faux Mode 7 bombing run that made me grin. But once the initial nostalgia rush wears off, these sections feel a little safer, a little less daring than the game’s movie-inspired levels. They’re solid, they play well, but they don’t surprise me in the same way.

And then there’s the elephant in the room: length. You can tear through the story mode in under an hour if you’re on a roll. Even with multiple difficulties, alternate endings, and extra modes like Boss Rush and Infinite Enemies, this is a short game by modern standards. Bitmap Bureau clearly isn’t trying to hide that. This is an arcade-style experience, built to be replayed, mastered, and chased for better scores and faster times. If you’re the kind of player who finishes a game once and moves on, the credits may roll just as you’re getting fully warmed up.

For me, though, that brevity felt oddly appropriate. Terminator 2D: No Fate isn’t trying to be an endless content treadmill. It’s a concentrated blast of 90s energy, the kind of game that understands exactly what it is and refuses to apologize for it. Every level throws new hazards at you—steam vents, lasers, piston traps, an OSHA nightmare of Cyberdyne architecture—and while none of them are brutally difficult, they keep the pace brisk and the screen busy.

By the time I finished my first run, I realized something important. This game isn’t just nostalgic. It’s specific. It’s nostalgic for wired controllers, for late-night rentals, for action games that ended before you had time to overthink them. Terminator 2D: No Fate feels like a lost cartridge from an alternate timeline, one where T2 got the pixel-art adaptation it always deserved.

Verdict

Terminator 2D: No Fate is a short but lovingly crafted action platformer that captures the spirit of Judgment Day while celebrating the golden age of 90s gaming. Its best moments reinterpret iconic scenes with surprising creativity, backed by stunning pixel art and confident genre shifts. While its runtime may leave some players wanting more, what’s here is polished, passionate, and deeply respectful of both film and gaming history.