I can see a version of Ghost of Tsushima where a player’s combat preferences and dialogue choices alter the direction of the narrative. A conclusion decided not by one singular choice at its final confrontation, but an accumulation of smaller decisions throughout.

I can see it because that’s how the development studio Sucker Punch designed each of their inFamous games to operate. Ghost of Tsushima instead shucks away the shallow morality system of its predecessors, allowing access to all combat abilities regardless of play style or preference, and as a result granting the player true freedom in mechanical expression. Conversely, the narrative becomes more linear, rail-roading protagonist Jin Sakai onto a specific, predetermined path regardless of the player’s actions in game. Gameplay freedom comes at the cost of narrative control.

There are some players I’ve seen object to this, yearning for a more adaptive story that would be influenced by their decisions. Even if a player decides to fight honorably in each encounter – disregarding the mandatory tutorials forcing the player to act dishonorably – the Khan antagonist will still speak as if Jin has abandoned the samurai’s code of honor.

While I empathize with their disappointment, I think this division of mechanical freedom and narrative linearity has ultimately resulted in a better game. Though I can see the same duality present in Ghost of Tsushima’s cast as I had in every inFamous game – such as the opposing philosophies of Shimomura and Yuna acting as a refinement of the conflict between Lucy and Nix from inFamous 2 – the end product is better than if it had attempted to accommodate player preferences through shallow moral choices.

One of the greatest problems that every inFamous game had faced was certain useful abilities being tied to a specific path of morality. This introduced the problem of major narrative decisions now being tied to whether you wanted access to certain combat and navigational maneuvers. Rather than roleplay the characters of Cole McGrath or Delsin Rowe, the player mentally retains their status as a gamer, controller in hand, deciding whether to be “good” or “evil” based on ability sets.

Often this defines repeat playthroughs through the narrow, linear lens of “good” and “bad” branches. You are locked into the developer’s perspective of morality for an entire play session rather than being free to express your own morality. The only way to mix and match powers in either inFamous Second Son is to beat the game at least once after committing to a singular moral path. In inFamous 2, you can only choose any power you desire after beating the game twice, once for each branch of morality. In other words, freedom of mechanical expression is a reward only to those willing to endure the designer’s limitations.

Ghost of Tsushima, on the other hand, works as well as it does due to the sheer number of tools it provides. I found myself unleashing kunai near constantly, stealthily tossing wind chimes to lure out my foes and slitting throats from the shadows as often as I could. I used the bow and arrow to snipe sentries in watch towers so that I might drag an unsuspecting guard into the bushes to be slaughtered. Conversations with friends over Discord revealed that my friends had their own methods for slipping through Mongolian camps and combating the enemy hordes.

While the game retains some degree of silliness in unlocking select abilities – Jin seems incapable of figuring out how to stab a man through a paper door until the story permits him capable one third through the game – it emphasizes the beauty of possibility. It doesn’t matter that the artificial intelligence can be abysmally stupid. The player is free to use whichever tool or method they prefer, even if it means charging in like a mad man swinging a blade about.

It is certainly possible to separate this mechanical freedom from narrative “choice”, but it would lay the power of dissonance directly in the hands of the player. Jin could speak of honor and fair fights in cut-scenes only to hypocritically stab backs and sneak through tall grass in gameplay. To achieve true synchronicity of mechanics and narrative would require unseen, programmed logic to calculate how much time the player spends using the dishonorable “Ghost” abilities versus the traditional samurai stances. Even if the player’s abilities aren’t locked to narrative choices as they had been in inFamous, it still forces and encourages a player to use certain abilities in order to reach a specific narrative conclusion. Freedom would be little more than an illusion.

The compromise made in Ghost of Tsushima is, I think, the correct one to make under these circumstances. I’d prefer the freedom to play as I want, to find a combat style that works for me, while enjoying a well-told linear story.

Or, at least, adequately told. Ghost of Tsushima has some excellent side characters, and many of the optional quests contain excellent moments to develop Jin or the world he inhabits, but they are executed in a manner that feels ten years out of date. Very brief, minimal dialogue, and brief, condensed side quests that feel more like character summaries than character arcs.

Nonetheless, I found myself falling in love with the game due to Jin’s story of accepting change. Khotun Khan may be the antagonist of Ghost of Tsushima, but he speaks of sharing a very similar adversary to Jin: tradition. Unlike the other competing Khans of the Mongolian steppes, Khotun learns from his opponents on the battlefield, studying their tactics and adopting that which can increase his own prowess and power. Rather than stubbornly fighting to maintain the old ways, he seeks to evolve and change.

Twice Jin falls before the Khan as a traditional samurai warrior. First on the beach, the sand stained with the blood of the samurai that failed to hold the invading Mongols back. Though he survived, Jin then challenges Khotun Khan directly, face-to-face, as the samurai code dictates. Once more Jin is spared a grisly death, plummeting into the rushing waters below.

Let’s consider for a moment that it is flowing water that effectively saves Jin. Yuna, a commoner with a history of doing that which was necessary to survive, nursed him to health. As the player progresses through the game, they will learn to conceal themselves within the grass. They will obtain a grappling hook with which to climb upon the cliff faces and rock across Tsushima. The player will rely on the breeze to guide them forth, or upon the birds and foxes of the forests to lead them to points of interest. Jin will find rest in a naturally occurring hot spring, or reflect upon his life through the landscape-inspired haiku he shall compose.

That Jin becomes so in tune with his natural surroundings is certainly inspired by the Shinto beliefs in Japan. However, Sucker Punch had also made sure that nature itself was never still. The rustling leaves, bending and swaying blades of grass, flickering lights of fireflies, and scampering of deer are a constant contrast to the immobile structures of the Japanese and samurai.

This was no doubt in part due to the visual influence of Akira Kurosawa on the game. Sucker Punch managed to take it further than mere imitation and apply it directly to the game’s core themes. From a distance, those Japanese homes and fortresses seem stalwart and strong. Upon closer inspection, they are all ruined or destroyed in some fashion. The doors are torn open or apart, food and belongings have been scattered and ransacked, and blood will stain the mats of the floor. In the latter third of the game the player will come across burned homes and villages. The grass and trees will regrow in time, but those homes are gone.

It is an intentionally chosen juxtaposition. Choosing the traditional methods of the samurai causes Jin to nearly die twice. It is only through adaptation that he – and by extension all of Tsushima – stands a chance at survival. His Uncle Lord Shimura, on the other hand, refuses to change or evolve. He reflects upon his past accomplishment of bringing order to the island of Tsushima, relying on past glory and honor to carry him to success. He is unwilling and incapable of understanding the unorthodox methods of his opponent, and holds no respect for what he perceives as dishonorable warfare.

Jin, on the other hand, is able to comprehend and predict Khotun Khan by similarly adapting and changing. He may loathe the Khan and he may disrespect the man, but he develops respect for his power and capabilities.

Limiting the player’s freedom in the narrative has the curious case of ensuring the mechanics are aligned with the game’s thematic intent. Though the player may not wish to utilize many or any of the Ghost’s abilities, they are still free to do just that. Any restriction is imposed upon themselves rather than a hierarchical order of demands by the samurai’s – or the developer’s – sense of morality.

It is for this and many other reasons that I find Ghost of Tsushima to be one of the better games released this year. It may be imperfect, and it may even be greater than the sum of its parts, but it is one of those titles that I look back with fondness due to the freedom granted by its mechanics while providing a meaningful narrative.