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Let me be honest with you—I’ve spent more hours than I’d like to admit trying to figure out why some games feel so disjointed between exploration and combat. That exact feeling hit me hard while playing South of Midnight, and it’s something I think a lot of players can relate to. You’re peacefully exploring this beautifully crafted world, soaking in the atmosphere, and then—bam! Combat kicks in, and it’s like the game suddenly switched discs on you. As a long-time gamer and someone who’s analyzed game mechanics for years, I’ve come to realize that these jarring transitions aren’t just about difficulty spikes; they’re often tied to how game systems are introduced and integrated. And honestly, it’s a design choice that can either pull you deeper into the experience or push you straight to the settings menu to drop the difficulty.
When I first stepped into those clearly marked combat zones in South of Midnight, I expected a smooth ramp-up. Instead, I was greeted by Haints—enemies that don’t just hit hard, but hit fast. We’re talking about enemies that can drain your health bar in two or three well-placed strikes if you’re not careful. What struck me immediately was how the game almost felt like it had two different identities. One moment, you’re leisurely exploring, maybe solving light puzzles or enjoying the narrative, and the next, you’re thrown into what I’d describe as a "survival brawl." The first wave isn’t so bad—usually around three to four Haints—but as you clear them, additional waves join, sometimes doubling the number. I remember one particular fight where I faced roughly eight enemies in total, and let me tell you, it wasn’t pretty. The shift isn’t just noticeable; it’s drastic. Unless you’re playing on the easiest setting, the game practically yanks you from a relaxed stroll into what feels like hard mode, and it does it in an instant.
Now, Hazel, our protagonist, has a toolkit that sounds decent on paper. She’s got telekinetic abilities, a tether pull, and melee attacks. But here’s the thing—in the heat of battle, many of those skills just don’t pull their weight early on. I found myself relying almost entirely on her standard melee attacks because let’s face it, when you’re surrounded, fancy moves don’t always cut it. Her telekinetic shove? Barely made a dent unless I’d grinded for upgrades, and the tether pull felt situational at best. It’s one of those design quirks where you have all these abilities, but the game subtly forces you into a specific playstyle until you’ve invested enough time—or pick-ups, as the game calls them—to make the others viable. I’d estimate that in my first five hours with the game, about 70% of my combat success came from basic attacks, and that’s not necessarily a good thing.
What really got me, though, was the defensive side of things. Hazel’s attacks don’t do nearly as much damage as the Haints’, and her defensive options are slim. Dodging is your go-to, but it’s not always reliable. There were moments where I’d dodge what I thought was an incoming attack, only to get caught in a combo because the enemy telegraphed their moves poorly. Most Haints don’t give clear indicators for standard attacks—though they do glow bright yellow when they’re about to unleash something big, like a temporary invincibility combo or an area-of-effect strike. That yellow glow is a lifesaver, honestly, but it’s not enough to balance the frustration of not knowing when a basic strike is coming. I lost count of how many times I’d misjudged a dodge and found myself staring at a game-over screen. It’s those little moments that make you question whether the challenge is fair or just artificially inflated.
And don’t even get me started on the lock-on mechanic when you’re dealing with groups. In one-on-one fights, it’s serviceable, but throw in three or more enemies, and it becomes a liability. I’d be trying to focus on one Haint, and the camera would suddenly swing to another, leaving me open to attacks from behind. It led to some frustratingly ill-timed dodges and attacks that honestly felt cheap. I’d say about 40% of my deaths were due to the lock-on system failing me at critical moments. It’s a reminder that even in 2023, some games still struggle with crowd control mechanics, and South of Midnight is no exception. You’re constantly on the backfoot, reacting rather than acting, and that can drain the fun out of an otherwise engaging experience.
But here’s the twist—despite all these gripes, I kept coming back. There’s something about the tension, the risk-reward of mastering Hazel’s limited moveset, that hooked me. It’s not a perfect system, but it’s one that makes you earn every victory. And that’s the thing about game design: sometimes, the flaws make you appreciate the strengths even more. Would I recommend this to someone looking for a smooth, balanced combat experience? Maybe not. But if you’re like me, someone who enjoys dissecting why a game feels the way it does, South of Midnight offers a fascinating case study. In the end, it’s those rough edges that often spark the best conversations among players, and for that, I’m grateful.