In a world where your greatest adversaries fire pistols, rifles, and other firearms, Tizo wields a simple bow and arrow, or “arco,” as the Iyo culture calls it. It is a deadly, capable weapon, but arrows are hopelessly outclassed by bullets, especially in a fight with multiple guns in play. Yet in the face of merciless killers and overwhelming odds, the only way forward is to fight back with whatever tools are at your disposal. Arco’s thrilling, compelling story enthralled me with its seamless blend of gameplay and narrative. The dialogue is sharply written and the combat is carefully tuned, but these disparate elements combine to tell a story that makes Arco memorable.
Arco is a pixelated RPG that follows a series of Indigenous travelers seeking revenge on a colonizing force that laid waste to their lives. Through each of the game’s acts, you play as one of these adventurers and get a glimpse into a different tribe in Arco’s countryside; Tizo is a grizzled old man, Itzae is a spirited brawler, and Afur and Chio are merchant siblings. Including so many perspectives of the same essential conflict injects plentiful nuance into the story, and I was always eager to see how new characters would affect the plot.
Fresh protagonists come with unique abilities in combat encounters, one of Arco’s strongest elements. When conflict is triggered in the overworld, Arco zooms into an isometric battlefield, where the player engages in combat against wildlife, bandits, or colonizers. The action is turn-based with a twist: While time is frozen, you can see what your opponents plan to do next, but once you decide what your next action is, every person’s turn unfolds at the same time. A bow is a great tool for foes several feet away, but a knife moves faster, so it’s not wise to ready an arrow if you’re within melee range. On the other hand, it’s usually a good idea to use a quick attack like a slap to interrupt an enemy who pulls out a firearm, which is particularly hard to avoid. And if there are multiple guns in play, your turn is best spent dashing or teleporting around until the enemy is forced to reload. It’s a tactical style that forces the player to carefully consider each action, making every victory feel satisfying and earned.
There’s another twist on Arco’s turn-based combat: ghosts. Depending on your decisions in the story, your protagonist can be haunted by guilt, and that guilt manifests as dangerous specters in battle. Even while the rest of the world isn’t moving, the ghosts are, and they’ll hurt you if they get close enough. This simultaneously puts a time limit on your actions and keeps you away from certain areas. So much for that melee attack you had planned – you either need to take some damage or run in the opposite direction for three turns until the ghost dissipates. This mechanic can be frustrating, but it’s avoidable depending on your decisions in the story or if you use consumables to make the guilty condition disappear, which I often did in later chapters. That said, guilt can also unlock new, darker story content, serving as both a narrative consequence and a difficulty level I hope to revisit in later playthroughs.
These intersections between story and gameplay are where Arco shines the brightest. Healing items are relatively plentiful, but not infinite, so deciding whether to take sidequests or unnecessary risks is always consequential, as you don’t want your health to get too low. If you’re kind and trusting to passersby, you might be taken advantage of, but if you’re too quick on the draw, you can cause unnecessary bloodshed and become guilty again. I was invested in Arco’s story to begin with, but the mechanical incentive to think about my actions kept me truly immersed.
This Mesoamerican epic is told in a minimalist pixelated art style, a visual direction that has stuck with me for weeks after playing. In the overworld, characters are depicted as just a few pixels large in a full screen of desert, woods, or other environments. It creates a palpable sense of grandeur and respect for the vast, natural world the characters inhabit, a recurring theme in the narrative. The music evokes the same sensation. Sparse acoustic guitar notes score your exploration of the first area while combat cranks the tempo up with electric guitar chords. But my favorite moment of the entire game is when the soundtrack cuts out, replaced by a quiet singer and her guitar, representing the sincere, emotional undertone of an otherwise violent moment in the narrative.
Arco tells a story about consequence, sacrifice, colonialism, revenge, and grief. From small, funny exchanges between siblings to the dramatic, overarching plot connecting the main characters, the phenomenal writing is only elevated by how the player can affect it. The ending I got was a fitting conclusion you’d expect to see in any classic Western film, and I’m eager to return to see how dark it gets if I make different choices.
This 2025 review reflects our thoughts on the game’s current state at publishing. As such, post-launch updates were factored into the final score.
