TL;DR: Shinobi: Art of Vengeance is a glorious return for Sega’s ninja series—beautifully animated, mechanically deep, and endlessly replayable. Minor flaws aside, it’s one of the best 2D action games of the year.

The summer of 2025 feels like it’s been personally curated for fans of side-scrolling ninjas. Within the span of a few short months, we’ve gone from bathing in the pixelated blood geysers of Ninja Gaiden: Ragebound to watching Sega’s long-slumbering Shinobi series shuriken its way back into the spotlight after more than a decade in exile. And let me tell you: when I finally booted up Shinobi: Art of Vengeance, the title screen alone sent me spiraling into a nostalgia-drunk fugue state. There’s something profoundly surreal about seeing Joe Musashi—stoic as ever—stride back onto the stage, cloaked in a modern coat of hand-drawn ink and color, as if he’d just stepped out of the pages of a gorgeously illustrated manga.

But nostalgia alone doesn’t guarantee satisfaction. We’ve all been burned by reboots that mistake reverence for innovation, or worse, fumble the heart of what made the original worth remembering. What’s miraculous about Shinobi: Art of Vengeance is that it doesn’t just stumble back into the dojo and dust off its katana. It strides in confidently, delivers a flying kick to your chest, and reminds you why you fell in love with this brand of hyper-charged ninja mayhem in the first place. This isn’t just a sequel; it’s a resurrection—and one that actually justifies its long absence.

The Plot: Simplicity as an Art Form

Nobody plays Shinobi for Shakespearean dialogue or labyrinthine plots, and Sega knows it. Still, Art of Vengeance frames its story with just enough pulp to keep the engine roaring. Joe Musashi, the eternal ninja warhorse, has traded his bloody escapades for the quiet life of a mentor, training young disciples like a sandal-wearing Obi-Wan Shinobi. But peace is fragile, and ENE Corp—an appropriately evil acronym of a paramilitary gang led by the cartoonishly menacing Lord Ruse—smashes into Musashi’s village like a wrecking ball. Cue the vengeance. Cue the blood. Cue the 10-hour globe-trotting vendetta.

It’s boilerplate, sure, but that’s precisely the point. Like the VHS-era action flicks it draws inspiration from, Art of Vengeance thrives on clarity: you’re the ninja, they’re the bad guys, and the next two hours of your life are going to be a symphony of sword slashes and kunai thunks. Musashi, true to form, doesn’t bother with soliloquies—his entire emotional range is expressed through the occasional grunt in cutscenes. And yet, that restraint makes him oddly endearing. He’s the ultimate straight man in a world gone mad, letting his blade do the talking and his actions deliver the punchlines.

Visuals: The Ink of Vengeance

What truly floored me was how Art of Vengeance looks. Lizardcube—the studio responsible for the excellent Streets of Rage 4—has outdone itself here. This game isn’t retro-inspired; it’s retro-reimagined, as if the neon-soaked aesthetic of late ’80s arcades collided with the fluid animation sensibilities of modern hand-drawn cartoons. Every level, every enemy, every particle effect feels painted with care.

The diversity of environments is dizzying: one minute, you’re slicing your way through a lush bamboo forest; the next, you’re knee-deep in the grotesque innards of a kaiju that looks like it escaped from Rick and Morty’s storyboard department. A rainy fish market stage features container ships looming in the background like urban titans, while puddles beneath Musashi’s feet shimmer with distorted reflections. And then there’s the nostalgia hit—the surfing stage, a throwback to Shinobi III, reimagined here as a glorious fever dream of “radical ’90s ninja chic.”

The magic is that no two stages feel like copy-paste jobs. The variety isn’t just cosmetic; it’s structural. A frantic chase across the rooftops of a speeding train demands a completely different rhythm than the hostage rescue in Neo City’s skyline or the claustrophobic gauntlet through ENE’s underground labs. Each environment feels like a new page in the saga, not just a new coat of paint.

Combat: Ballet with Blades

But visuals can only carry a ninja so far. If Shinobi’s combat didn’t snap, slice, and sing, none of this would matter. Thankfully, Art of Vengeance delivers combat that feels like a long-lost cousin to the Streets of Rage 4 school of kinetic mayhem—tight, weighty, yet fluid enough to make you feel like a master even when you’re button-mashing.

Unlike Ninja Gaiden: Ragebound, which embraces the brutal elegance of one-hit-kill combat, Shinobi leans into something closer to a side-scrolling brawler. Enemies come with health bars, and combos aren’t just a stylistic flourish—they’re survival. Musashi wields a toolkit of light and heavy sword strikes, kunai throws, and eventually, a frankly ridiculous buffet of combo chains. Within hours, I found myself juggling hapless ninjas in midair, divebombing with flaming kicks, and spinning like a human Catherine Wheel, katana blazing. Every input feels intuitive, and the reward system—blood-spray finishers that burst into coins and health—made every skirmish feel like a small jackpot.

Then there are the Ninpo abilities. Four customizable slots give you special moves that range from fire-breathing dragon blasts to midair bombs. Stack on amulets—passive buffs that can make you a vampiric health leech or a combo-scaling monster—and the combat becomes a playground of bloody possibility. Toss in the Ninjutsu gauge, a slow-burning meter that unleashes screen-clearing powers or life-saving resurrections, and you’ve got a system that constantly dangles high-risk, high-reward decisions in front of you. Do you blow your super on a tricky miniboss, or do you hoard it for the freakish end-of-stage abomination waiting just offscreen?

Speaking of bosses: they’re not crushingly difficult, even on higher settings, but they’re fun as hell. Twin mutants fusing into one grotesque juggernaut. A beastmaster conjuring griffins mid-fight. A callback to the original arcade’s Mandara, lumbering and awkward, like a reunion guest who probably should’ve stayed home. Every encounter has a personality, a gimmick, a reason to remember it beyond just another health bar.

Structure: Freedom Without Fatigue

Art of Vengeance isn’t a Metroidvania, but it flirts with the genre. Levels are linear, but new abilities—grappling hooks, wall claws, gliders—encourage revisiting past stages to uncover secrets. Some rewards are simple, like alternate costume colors (cherry blossom pink Musashi is a vibe), but others are meaty: Elite encounters that drop amulets, or rift challenges that test your platforming chops against deathtrap obstacle courses straight out of Super Meat Boy.

These extras aren’t just padding; they’re temptations. Optional fights play like arena showdowns in a sword-swinging Smash Bros. minigame, while rift challenges demand pixel-perfect execution but restart instantly when you fail, striking a rare balance between punishing and fair. This is challenge as seasoning, not as a barrier. The beauty is that if you’re only here for the story, you can blitz through the campaign at a steady pace. But if you crave punishment, Shinobi happily provides it.

There are rough edges, though. Enemies respawn a little too aggressively when you backtrack, dragging you into unnecessary re-fights. The map doesn’t always make it clear whether a pit will kill you or lead to a safe landing, turning exploration into trial-and-error frustration. These aren’t deal-breakers, but they’re speedbumps in an otherwise exhilarating sprint.

Verdict: A Ninja Reborn

Shinobi: Art of Vengeance is more than a nostalgic revival—it’s a statement. Lizardcube has proven, again, that they’re the best custodians Sega could have chosen for its long-dormant franchises. Just as Wonder Boy: The Dragon’s Trap (2017) and Streets of Rage 4 (2020) redefined what reboots could be, Art of Vengeance feels like a masterclass in how to honor a legacy while pushing it forward. It’s gorgeous to look at, thrilling to play, and generous in its optional depth.

It’s not perfect. The respawn quirks, the occasional clunky callback, the minor map frustrations—they exist. But they’re whispers in the dojo, drowned out by the roar of the action. This is a game that makes you feel like a ninja god without demanding you become one. It’s a playground of blades and blood, and it’s been far too long since we’ve had one like it.