Allow me to state up front that my experience with The Talos Principle II was not exactly standard, and it would be impossible for me to act as if that does not color this review somewhat. I streamed this game and, as a result of some stream memes, found myself playing a “free every single hexahedron” challenge run where I smuggled items and cheesed just about every puzzle in the game. At minimum, half of the puzzles in this game would still be completely new to me if I played it again. All of this is to say, however, that I do not think my enjoyment of TTP2 was a result of the intended experience of the developers, but rather my own efforts to “make my own fun” when the fun presented to me failed to remain compelling.

TTP1 did quite a lot with very little, taking a relatively small cast of puzzle elements and pushing them to their absolute limits; TTP2, on the other hand, opts to introduce a new puzzle element in every single level to provide its challenge. There’s not anything inherently wrong with this - having more toys to play with allows for a more diverse array of interactions and mental connections which need to be while finding a solution - but it’s not really the kind of challenge that I enjoy most, nor is it what I look for in TTP. Some of the puzzles that I did solve in the intended manner were satisfying, but every level being half-tutorial/half-actual puzzles tends to leave me wanting.

The epitome of this issue for me is the new Star Puzzles. In the first game, Star Puzzles existed as an overarching meta-puzzle within every level - an extra challenge designed to get your gears turning and, more often than not, teach you the limits of your tools and how to “break” the game using them. If you found a way to smuggle an item out of the puzzle area, your first reaction would be less “uh oh, broke it” and more “okay, so why do they want me to have this?” They actively enriched the experience by adding an extra layer of mental arithmetic to every single puzzle: getting the sigil is just the first step, your real challenge is finding the gaps in every level’s armor and how to exploit it. They are, I believe, what make TTP truly unique as a series.

Star Puzzles in TTP2 come in three specific flavors - Sphinx, Prometheus, and Pandora - and to be completely frank, almost every single one of them is a complete miss. Sphinx stars task you with reading a hint on the monument and following the directions given to you, most often in the form of pulling specific levers or pressing buttons in certain formations. While some of these were interesting to discover at first, I found that the solution being given to you so matter-of-factly kind of deflates any excitement inherent in the task. Prometheus stars are bad to the point of confusion, consisting entirely of finding an glowing orb and following it from point to point until it reaches the Monument. Going so far as to call them puzzles would be like calling 2+2 a riddle, and I suspect that they exist as a kind of justification for the absurdly large maps (which themselves are harmful to the experience for the sake of spectacle). Pandora stars are perhaps the closest to their original counterparts, often asking you to use tools from multiple puzzles in the area to guide a laser to the monument. I don’t have any particular gripes with them overall, though I will admit that their constrained nature - a result of smuggling no longer being a required mechanic - does dull their edge somewhat.

Why do I care so much about these optional puzzles, you ask? As previously stated, I believe that Star Puzzles are what make TTP unique, and I didn’t just mean in relation to gameplay. TTP1’s narrative was about many things, but one of its stated goals is teaching the player to disrespect their surroundings. Philosophical skepticism requires one to question everything, and having that extend to the puzzles by virtue of encouraging you to break them created a delightful link between gameplay and narrative that enriched both. Solving any puzzle in TTP1 was a process of asking yourself “what assumptions am I making?” and testing the validity of each one until you found the weak link in the chain.

In contrast, TTP2’s Star Puzzles don’t really accomplish much of anything in a narrative sense. At most, you could say that their common aspect revolves around analyzing your surroundings, and that asking you to pay closer attention to the world around you inspires a larger sense of connection TO that area. The problem, however, is that TTP2’s worlds are all shock and awe: needlessly massive for the sake of sheer spectacle, with Pandora stars being about the only puzzle to use the interesting architecture to influence gameplay. They’re pretty to behold, sure, but that mountain range made of statues becomes a lot less interesting when I need to painstakingly walk across every inch of it just to move from one puzzle to another.

The scale of these areas trickles downward upon the entire experience of the game, rusting the joints to the point of atrophy. TTP1 provided downtime through consistency and discovery - terminal at the start of the level, hidden terminals as a reward for exploring, talking with MLA at the end of the level - and TTP2 clearly attempts to mimic these elements to minimal success. Terminals still exist, but they’re far less enticing when the compass points you towards them - removing the fun of discovery - and every level has at least three of them with four documents a piece. There’s still conversations to be had, but they’re far less enticing when I’m talking with Pandora about whether I think bad things happening means we should give up rather than talking with MLA about whether frogs are people (and being actively told I’m a dumbass for doing so). Rather than acting a breather between puzzles, the immense downtime provided by TTP2 felt like being force-fed vegetables before getting to have one lick of soft-serve.

There’s far more narrative to engage with in TTP2, but the problem is that said narrative has no BITE. Everyone in TTP2 is far too reasonable for a society founded on disobedience. You’ll be asked what you think about a variety of issues, but the most pushback the game will ever give you is “I’m not sure I agree, but I suppose we all have different and unique perspectives!” The primary conflict in the game is about whether human society should expand despite potential danger or isolate in order to protect from harm, and, for risk of sounding ignorant, it simply fails to provide any mental stimulation whatsoever. “We COULD explore the universe and experience the breadth of life in store for us, but what if something BAD happens? Oh, heavens me, perhaps we shouldn’t do anything ever again so we can avoid that!” The game couches itself in an air of philosophical grandeur about the human condition and whether civilization itself is doomed to fail, but the presentation of these ideas comes across as downright juvenile to me. Rather than presenting bold new ideas that could only exist in a world where humanity has achieved the impossible, it feels like TTP2 wants to spoon feed me Gerber’s Philosophy Paste and pat me on the head for being such a smart young man when I say “perchance doing things is good sometimes.”

The Talos Principle II simply does not challenge me intellectually in any of the ways its predecessor did. I would be lying to you if I said I didn’t have a blast smuggling every single hexahedron out of their puzzle rooms, but I would also be lying if I told you that my experience is the kind which TTP2 seeks to provide. For better and for worse, TTP2 is accessible, with a sawtooth difficulty curve and toothless narrative to ensure that you’ll never be too stumped. If you found the first game too daunting, TTP2 is an excellent way to dip your toes into the water. As for me, I’ll cross my fingers and hope the DLC has the kind of stimulation I found in ELOHIM’s simulation.