Surfing a lost ocean on a flying blade: a two‑hour mood, a lifetime vibe.
If you’ve ever stared at a half‑pipe and thought, “What if this was a desert, those dunes were waves, and my board was a sword?” congratulations—Giant Squid built you a whole game. Sword of the Sea is a flowing, chill, deceptively tight adventure where momentum is your compass, the environment is your skatepark, and elegance is the point. It’s short, yes. It’s also one of the most assured “feel” games of the year, a meditation on motion that constantly rewards you for reading the terrain and trusting your speed.
Before we carve in: the basics. Sword of the Sea is made and published by Giant Squid (ABZÛ, The Pathless), led by creative director Matt Nava with a beautiful score from Austin Wintory. It released August 19, 2025 on PS5 and PC (Steam & Epic), with day‑one access on PlayStation Plus Game Catalog. The sticker price is $29.99. Single‑player only. All killer, no filler.
The pitch in a single line
You are the Wraith, a luminous figure who surfs a “Hoversword” across dunes and newly reborn waters, reviving a dead sea by stringing together lines, launches, and tricks. When the flow clicks, it’s euphoric—like landing a perfect combo in a skating game that forgot to bring the stress.
Movement is the message
Sword of the Sea understands that speed is only interesting when you earn it. The Hoversword handles like a hybrid of snowboard, skateboard, and surfboard: pump the dips, hug the curves, hit the transition at the right angle, and you’re airborne—spinning, flipping, then knifing back into the face of a dune like a silk dart. That movement loop is the whole thesis: go fast to go higher to go further to open something new, then do it again with more flourish.
What makes it sing is the game’s forgiveness. You can over‑rotate a backflip and still stick the landing if your read of the slope is good. You can scuff a wall‑ride and recover into a clean line because the next wave of sand is already tempting you forward. The game keeps nudging you toward flow state without shaming you for imperfection. When you finally stitch a region into one long run, you don’t just feel skilled—you feel in tune.
Along the way, you gather trinkets to unlock new tricks (double jump, kickflip, etc.) and take on optional timed challenges. It’s a light layer—no fiddly combo math—yet it adds welcome spice to your traversal diet and subtly widens the skill ceiling for repeat runs.
Level design: skateparks masquerading as ruins
Each chapter presents a self‑contained “bowl” of ancient architecture and natural ramps: sunken plazas, broken aqueducts, ridgelines shaped like quarter‑pipes. The geography is legible at a glance—a blessing in a game about reading lines—but also pocketed with detours for collectibles and small puzzles. Typically, you’ll crest a tower or flood a basin, and the space will literally transform: grass bursts from sand, water pours in, and the same terrain you just traversed becomes a new playground. It’s a neat trick the game repeats without getting old because the palette of surfaces and elevations rarely feels the same twice.
Vibes, art direction, and that music
Giant Squid trades in painterly minimalism: bold silhouettes, crisp color gradients, and visual metaphors you can get without a single line of dialogue. As you repopulate each region, the world fills with shoals, jellyfish, dolphins, orcas—not as mounts to exploit (though you can draft with them for mobility), but as companions that make your lines feel alive. Austin Wintory’s score swells and recedes like a tide, saving its biggest lifts for the moments you absolutely stick the landing and the camera pulls back, letting the horizon gulp you whole. The effect is transportive—equal parts ABZÛ serenity and Journey awe.
Combat? Kinda. Tension? Definitely.
There are sequences where you’ll dodge and outmaneuver colossal sea‑things—the “darkness under the waves.” These set pieces are about maintaining speed under pressure, threading needles while the world bucks around you. They’re not the tactical centerpiece (thankfully)—they’re punctuation, little spikes of adrenaline that keep the meditation from getting too drowsy.
Length, replayability, and the “new run” hook
Sword of the Sea is a short game. Most players will roll credits in roughly 2–3 hours on a first run—think an evening with a cup of tea and good headphones. But the game is built to be replayed. Finish once and you unlock features geared toward speed and mastery—a run timer/speedometer and optional challenges designed to tempt you back for a faster, cleaner line. There’s also new‑game‑plus‑style stuff teased by the studio that shifts how you approach the world. If you’re the sort who enjoys shaving seconds off a clean downhill or perfecting a route, there’s real mileage here.
Platforms, performance notes, and controls
- Platforms & price: PS5 and PC (Steam, Epic) at $29.99, with PS Plus Extra/Premium access at launch on PS5.
- DualSense: On PS5, vibration is required and trigger effects are supported; on PC, there’s full DualSense support if you disable Steam Input. It’s one of those games where the rumble and triggers genuinely add texture to sand vs. water.
- PC requirements (high level): Minimum spec lands around an i5‑9400/Ryzen 5 2600 with 12 GB RAM and a GTX 1070/RX 5600; recommended jumps to i5‑12600K/Ryzen 7 5700X with 16 GB RAM and something roughly in RTX 2080 Ti territory. Storage footprint is about 15 GB.
- Single‑player only: No co‑op or online components; this is a purely solo, headphones kind of experience.
The one place it wobbles
Occasionally, the collectibles/timed side tasks can interrupt the trance. When you’re in that golden state, nothing kills momentum like detouring for another token hidden two bowls back. The game’s at its absolute best when you commit to the line in front of you and let the world transform around your path. Thankfully, the critical route rarely forces the busywork—it’s there if you want it, out of your way if you don’t. (And if you do want it, the trick unlocks are worth the detour.)
Who’s this for?
- You love movement—Skate and snow games, the downhill runs in Riders Republic, the long slides in Titanfall 2, the dunes of Journey.
- You want “cozy, but kinetic.” A game that’s calming without being sleepy, that lets your hands do pretty things while your brain unclenches.
- You finish games in a sitting. If a tight, complete, beautiful evening sounds like the right size, you’re the target market.
- You replay to master. If you get hooked on the line, New Game+ and speed tools give this surprising legs.
Tips to keep your flow silky
- Pump the troughs. Treat every dip like a half‑pipe. Dipping low before a lip gives you lift without burning your double jump.
- Angle is everything. Hit walls and ramps with a “just off perpendicular” approach to carry momentum into a clean wall‑ride or high arc.
- Save the trick flourish for airtime. You don’t need to spin to go far—but a well‑timed grab or flip won’t kill speed if you land on the downslope.
- Use wildlife as rhythm makers. Drafting with schools or hitching across turtles/dolphins isn’t just cute—it’s a micro‑booster that resets your line.
- Take a lap after you flood a zone. When water returns, the bowl becomes a new park. Do a victory lap to spot fresh routes you couldn’t access before.
- On PC with DualSense: In Steam, disable Steam Input to get native haptics and triggers. It’s worth it.
Accessibility & friction
There’s no combat difficulty curve to worry about, and the traversal model is forgiving enough that you rarely “fail,” you just fail to dazzle—which is a polite way of saying the game’s generous by design. Reading the terrain is the skill gate. If you struggle to parse depth or curvature from third‑person cameras, a brief adjustment period is natural; thankfully the game’s visual language is clean, and the camera is composed to show you where the next “line” wants to be.
Value check
At $29.99 for an exquisitely produced, replay‑friendly 2–3 hour experience, Sword of the Sea lands in that boutique sweet spot: premium indie price for premium indie craft. If you’re a PS Plus Extra/Premium subscriber, it’s a no‑brainer download on PS5; if you’re on PC, the ask feels fair considering the production value, especially if you vibe with replaying for time and style.
The Verdict
Sword of the Sea isn’t trying to be big. It’s trying to be precise. And in the lane it chooses—kinetic poetry, sand‑surfing zen, a wordless loop of restore‑and‑ride—it’s superb. The trick system is simple by design, the side content occasionally steps on the toes of flow, and the whole adventure flashes by like a perfect sunset. But when the camera pulls back and your blade skims a newborn sea while Wintory’s score breathes in your chest, it’s unmistakable: this is one of 2025’s most confident, memorable “feel” games.
TL;DR
- Play it if: you want a gorgeous one‑sitting journey with Journey vibes, skating DNA, and legit replay hooks.
- Skip if: you need depthy systems, long runtimes, or score‑attack trick complexity.
- Buy on: PS5 (especially with PS Plus) or PC; DualSense strongly recommended wherever you play.
At‑a‑glance facts (for your “Should I play this?” box)
- Developer/Publisher: Giant Squid
- Director / Composer: Matt Nava / Austin Wintory
- Platforms: PS5; PC via Steam and Epic
- Release date: August 19, 2025
- Price: $29.99
- Average playtime: ~2–3 hours, with replay systems for faster runs
- Mode: Single‑player
- Nice bonus: Day‑one on PS Plus Game Catalog (PS5); native DualSense support on PC (disable Steam Input)
Pros
- Silky, forgiving traversal that still rewards mastery
- Stunning art direction and a transporting score
- Zones that transform under your feet, revealing fresh lines
- Welcoming replay structure for speed‑heads
Cons
- Side objectives can interrupt the trance
- Short runtime may feel too brisk if you don’t replay
- Trick depth is intentionally light
Review score (if you twist my arm): 9/10
A small, immaculate slice of surfing‑through‑ruins nirvana.
