There is a perpetual sense of wonder throughout Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown.
Admittedly, I was worried for a minute. In its opening hours, the game delivered some slick 2D action and an interesting premise. But none of it felt wholly special. A few “wow” moments trickled in, showcasing some unexpected visual spectacles to fuel intrigue. And then I got my first time power and was able to dash in the air.
For a Metroidvania or any platformer post-Mega Man X2, an air dash wasn’t entirely special. It was the animation that really caught my eye. Our hero, Sargon, was bending time, running against a wall that wasn’t there as a crystalline blue afterimage streaked behind me. Prince of Persia: The Sands of Time. That’s what it was. A subtle callback to Prince of Persia‘s apex. Clever.
After receiving that first time power, The Lost Crown kicked open the doors and the experience transformed entirely. After that point, the game never stopped escalating. Narrative stakes deepened. Movement tech and combat rose in complexity. What initially appeared to be a lackluster world splintered into new possibilities.
Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown adds layer upon layer unto itself, not only setting a high bar for 2024 but growing into one of the pillars of the Metroidvania genre.
The Lost Crown is the kind of game where you speak to an NPC to learn combat tips and each lesson makes you say, “No way,” with new combo possibilities you never would have thought of.
The Lost Crown is the kind of game where I spent 20 minutes dying over and over to a one-screen gauntlet dodging and jumping over complex combinations of saw blades, only to unwrap my prize of a new cosmetic color for Sargon rather than a fancy upgrade, and walk away satisfied.
Fifteen years have passed since my last Prince of Persia game, the 2008 reboot merely titled Prince of Persia. I skipped Warrior Within, The Two Thrones, and The Forgotten Sands. Regardless, the massive gap in the franchise seems to have bothered few and surprised no one. Personally, I’m deeply hurt that a sequel to the 2008 game was never made as it was truly remarkable. While the world waits for The Sands of Time remake, The Lost Crown was primed to merely be a consolation prize, nothing entirely special.
But now The Lost Crown should be propped up as the standard-bearer of Prince of Persia as a whole. Not having played the original entry outside of a handful of screens on an emulator decades ago, a 2D Metroidvania makes the most sense if Ubisoft was not able to imagine a worthwhile way to break out of the tired mold of 3D action games that Prince of Persia seemed to have become.
The Lost Crown sees Persia under siege with war, drought, famine, and a lack of prosperity. Simurgh, the god of time and knowledge who protects Persia has been missing for 30 years. A group of seven heroes known as the Immortals now serve as protectors of Persia and Queen Thomyris, who looks to have her son Prince Ghassan take the throne soon. But after an important battle and during celebrations, a betrayal leads to Ghassan being abducted to a lost city inside the mythical Mount Qaf.
Sargon and the other Immortals immediately encounter a number of strange occurrences in Mount Qaf. Echoes of the past and fluctuating passages of time confuse the group who decide to separate in order to find Ghassan. In its opening hours, The Lost Crown‘s narrative is by the books but packed with good writing and excellent voice acting. Character interactions and moments trigger obvious red flags indicating that the past–or possibly the future–are causing Mount Qaf to become deadlier than expected.
Betrayals, double-crosses, and future selves are all encountered within a few hours of stepping foot into Mount Qaf. There is little I want to spoil in The Lost Crown, primarily because what actually begins to unravel at a key moment early in the game sets a fascinating course for the rest of the narrative. The most direct plot is told through a small handful of cutscenes, usually outside of important boss battles. But a large portion is dictated through conversations between Sargon and other characters when the action pauses and discoverable pieces of lore that expound upon Mount Qaf and Persia’s former King, Darius.
I initially thought that it would be hard for The Lost Crown to surprise me. Partially because this genre often isn’t rife with spectacular, engrossing narratives. The two pillars, Metroid and Castlevania: Symphony of the Night are more about the universe and its world. Dracula’s Castle is a fascinating location but no one is writing home about Alucard and Richter’s fight against Dracula–it took a Netflix show to do that. Samus was literally a bounty hunter wrapped up in a deadly alien species until later games started unpacking her Chozo heritage. Additionally, The Lost Crown makes no indication that players aren’t doing more than a rescue mission in a big world that has screwy rules with time.
About a third of the way through the game, I became invested in The Lost Crown‘s narrative past its valuable world-building with Mount Qaf. Across multiple regions, the game has a strong sense of place. While various screens can stretch over long lanes and numerous platforms, there are distinct visual and mechanical treats that sprawl across the map. A waterfall of sand with pieces of broken architecture to be used at footholds. A dome-like astronomy tower that has inner and outer workings extending into multiple parts of the map. A broken colossus of a statue frozen in time as its dozens of pieces are suspended in animation in the air.
Smartly, these noteworthy vistas are indicated on the world map to give the player a sense of location. But they also showcase Ubisoft Montpellier’s attention to crafting a world that makes logical sense. Mount Qaf is not just a city lost in the scramble of broken time. A forest extends to the east. The poisonous remnants of an older slice of the city leads to the sewers and eventually alien-like catacombs. Halls of sacred texts connect to the more elaborate upper city with throne rooms and towers. It is a joy to take in several moments, especially when the camera knowingly pulls back to display the full scope of what is visible.
None of The Lost Crown‘s sense of direction, purpose, or place is haphazard. This is emphasized by the numerous lore items that are collected either out in the open or in secret rooms. Players can learn a great deal about Mount Qaf and Persia’s past by reading these pieces. Some are merely objects of interest that contain minimal text, others are eye-opening and expand the importance or practicality of a boss or locale. Surprisingly, when I was in one of the last sections of the game, I found a tome that was difficult to reach, only to read its contents and have a shocking revelation laid bare, to then have it confirmed by a cutscene soon after while providing deeper context to prior lore drops.
Ubisoft Montpellier does its best to guide players through The Lost Crown without too much interference. An option exists to enable indicators on what pathways are blatantly closed or opened but the map doesn’t show what pathways or secrets require new powers. Instead, Sargon is granted Memory Shards, an in-game moniker for players being able to press down on the D-pad and literally take a screenshot and have that pinned on the map. Memory Shards are limited but more can be found, though I never felt like I didn’t have enough. This clever tool makes The Lost Crown‘s exploration more fluid and less intrusive. And because the world has so many distinct sectors, players should expect to become engrossed in Mount Qaf.
The Lost Crown takes obvious inspiration from Hollow Knight, perhaps the most contemporary and comparable Metroidvania of this quality. And don’t worry, I thought about that game multiple times when playing The Lost Crown. But Ubisoft Montpellier doesn’t copy Team Cherry’s formula, merely implements it towards their own goals. Some of the puzzles and moments in The Lost Crown strike me more as homage to Hollow Knight but also as identifiable pulls from other classic games in the genre, providing devotees with a knowing smile when discovered.
Sargon is also one of the fiercest 2D combatants I’ve ever encountered. The Lost Crown employs a simple yet rich combo system and parrying. Really, the game’s combat is built around a three-button combo with a number of quirks that are expanded as Sargon earns more tools and players take the time to invest in understanding enemies.
Each slice of Sargon’s dual swords propels him slightly forward, meaning caution should be used near pitfalls and spiky foes. Holding down and attacking does a low sweep that keeps Sargon stationary. Sounds simple and obvious, pointless even. But that simple concept plays a role when dealing with some threats. Lighter enemies can be launched in the air and temporarily juggled. Enemies with shields can be dashed through and attacked from behind. For the game’s introductory suite of baddies, button-mashing can do a lot.
Most enemy attacks can be parried and when done so will stun the attacker and set them up for an attack. Numerous projectiles can also be parried and launched back at their sender. However, an enemy that flashes red before an attack usually indicates an attack that can’t be parried and should be avoided or dodged through. There is a definite learning curve when it comes to what can and can’t be parried but usually avoiding anything red is a safe bet. Enemies and bosses also have a yellow flash before an attack, indicating that timing a parry performs an “execution” that will instantly kill most or shave a chunk of health off a boss. One frustration I did have in the parrying system is that attempting to parry through an attack that can’t be parried or simply missing the opportunity has a chance to deal more damage to Sargon than if he was actually hit. And because there are several moments in The Lost Crown where things get hectic, these mistakes can be catastrophic because the player is attempting to parry and dodge multiple attacks in sequence.
Another fundamental of The Lost Crown is its traversal puzzles. The game has a handful of strict stationary puzzles that require timing and positioning, such as syncing up three rotating dials to simultaneously align with corresponding symbols. But most of the game’s puzzles require players to navigate Sargon around increasingly complex environmental hazards and puzzles.
It is hard to express the intricacies in which The Lost Crown expertly designs these numerous traversal puzzles and does so in sync with the ever-expanding number of powers players acquire.
Yet that same richness is also applied to combat, which gains depth in service of Sargon’s arsenal. Players acquire a bow meant to better dispatch flying enemies and those at a distance. It mostly does chip damage to grounded foes but can temporarily interrupt their movements or attacks. Holding down triangle when the bow is acquired shoots out a chakram that ricochets off surfaces and can attach itself to gears that manipulate pulleys and other platforms.
When acquiring the air dash, players will now be able to literally climb walls by jumping off them, dashing back, and repeating the process. Navigation puzzles open up that have players air dashing over dangerous pits. Before acquiring the air dash, after two hits in the air, enemies would be propelled away from Sargon. With it, the combo can continue when Sargon bolts towards the enemy again.
Now imagine these situations when a double jump is acquired late in the game. Now imagine them when Sargon is able to preserve an image of himself and then teleport back to it with the touch of a button. In combat, that frozen image can preserve a charged attack. In puzzles, players may need to activate a switch to trigger a platform to be jumped on, freeze that image next to the triggered platform, trigger a higher up platform with a different pressure plate, then run back to the first switch and quickly teleport to the previous frozen Sargon and complete the two jumps.
There is a specific mastery The Lost Crown exemplifies and requires. The player will be privy to a number of insanely difficult, lengthy challenges that require fairly accurate timing and execution. But what makes this praiseworthy on the part of Ubisoft Montepellier is that the puzzles are designed in such a way that the solution is not an absolute mystery. Instead, they are smartly laid out to have the player peel back the steps required to complete, it’s just up to the player’s skills to master those steps.
Few times have I played a game featuring both combat and exploration that revealed a new twist which caused me to fall deeper in love with how the game operates. The Lost Crown continued to do that through its 25 hour runtime. When I acquired a new time power, my mind flashed back to all those sections I could not complete because I merely did not have the skills to do so. I thought about the various ways I could breeze through prior enemy encounters and reveled in what new enemies would have in store for me.
The Lost Crown is a number of puzzle pieces deliberately handed to the player, profoundly changing the picture for them despite remaining fundamentally the same. This is by no means an easy game, though options exist to make it tamer. That being said, I played a large portion of the game on its hard difficulty and frequently was trounced. Even on normal, the game requires thoughtful execution of fights, especially during bosses. The ways in which Ubisoft Montpellier designed bosses with identifiable patterns that require nearly precise timing by the player and smart execution of time powers never felt unfair, merely another challenge that would be overcome. Some of these fights were screen-consuming, others intimate. But each one provided a different type of challenge that I was glad to see incorporated into the overall picture.
Of course, The Lost Crown wouldn’t be a proper Metroidvania without a number of unlocks to amplify players’ power throughout the journey. Sargon can equip amulets that offer strict bonuses like health boosts and damage amplifiers. But there are also interesting ones like adding an additional hit to the attack combo, triggering bonuses when parrying, and curbing status effects. Each amulet can be increased in effectiveness and players will also find additional amulet slots allowing for more expensive amulets to be equipped. Potions restore health between checkpoints–called Wak-Wak Trees–and, like amulets and equipment, can be upgraded using the currency known as Time Crystals.
Special attacks called Athra surges can be discovered and up to two are equipped. These attacks require a meter built up based on attacking enemies while being hit reduces the meter. When using them, Sargon isn’t invincible but capable of specific moves that inflict great damage in a number of situations. Most are damaged-based but one creates a healing pool that can be quite useful in fights against bosses.
The swirling synergy of blocked paths, earned skills, and the various rewards gained creates a continuously satisfying experience in The Lost Crown. Progression through the map and the story is natural and, based on the difficulty, players don’t have to find everything to maximize survival. Yet it’s the steadily natural difficulty curve in both combat and puzzles that make story revelations and item procurement worthwhile. Yes, the difficulty can spike on harder settings if you aren’t thorough but the treasures reaped are more tantalizing. And damn, this game controls so good, allowing all these actions to empower players as if they were Sargon.
Another important thing to note about The Lost Crown is its aesthetic and mood. Deeply entrenched in Persian culture, the game brings to light several myths and terminology that I’m sure a large swath of players are not familiar with. Implementing these stories across such a vibrant game truly is a treat. Several moments in the game I became enveloped in musical instruments and styles I’ve rarely heard but are obviously entrenched in a culture I want to see more of. While it may not be the most stylish 2D platformer, it runs immaculately at a framerate that benefits the precise requirements of its platforming and combat. No key element of The Lost Crown was created without careful consideration of what players expect out of the best of these games.
As The Lost Crown began wrapping up, I resisted the temptation to scour every inch of the massive map to earn every last collectible. But every out of reach door or item felt readily available to me at anytime. Merely knowing that a challenge laid in wait was enough for me. The full breadth of Mount Qaf and its secrets would always be there. And I am undoubtedly eyeing a second playthrough.
Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown is an exceptional entry in the Metroidvania genre. What started out as an inventive spin on the time-bending franchise became a masterclass in 2D combat and traversal. Players wanting a dense, rich map riddled with secrets will find a happy home. Those wishing for surprisingly deep battles and razor-sharp navigation puzzles won’t be let down. With each new moment, Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown becomes timeless.