THE GREATEST LEAP IN HISTORY
Out of all the games across the series I’ve played, Assassin’s Creed II represents one of the most dramatic leaps in quality between entries. Nearly everything I criticized in my review of Ubisoft’s original historical open-world experiment has been addressed here, along with some other flaws I hadn’t even bothered to articulate.
The first game showed promise, but it felt hollow, repetitive, and undercooked. This sequel, by contrast, is dense with content, varied in its structure, and noticeably more polished. Some mechanical rough edges remain, but the mission design is clever enough to hide them for the most part. While adding layers of narrative detail and environmental details, the game improves the sense of freedom and verticality that defined its predecessor: climbing walls to gain a vantage point from which to plan your next move.
The opening revisits the closing moments of the first game in the near future. Desmond Miles is still trapped inside Abstergo, the sleek corporate façade for modern-day Templar operations. His sole ally, Lucy, helps him escape, fighting alongside him and driving him to a hidden Assassin safehouse equipped with their own upgraded machine: the Animus 2.0. An in-universe explanation for all the improvements Ubisoft has made.
Through it, Desmond relives the memories of a new ancestor: Ezio Auditore da Firenze, born in mid-15th-century Florence. As a protagonist, Ezio is a massive improvement over the insufferably arrogant Altair. He begins as a brash, hot-headed youth, but over the course of the game matures into something far more compelling. His arc is cinematic, emotional, and finally subtitled. It allows room for personality, humor, and growth, while introducing historical figures like Leonardo da Vinci and the Medici family as parts of the narrative.
Ezio’s journey leads him across multiple Italian cities, chasing an ever-expanding conspiracy that takes him through politics, religion, and family vendettas. The game escalates steadily until it culminates in a final, utterly unhinged what-the-hell-just-happened moment that still stands as one of the boldest narrative twists in the series. It’s brave, and quite frankly brilliant.
Mechanically, Ezio controls much like Altair, but feels far more compliant. Whether due to improved framerate, refined animation, or subtle input tweaks, Ezio rarely misbehaves. The climbing system remains the star, functioning almost as a puzzle mechanic in its own right. Combat still revolves around counters and timing, but when it feels clumsy, it’s usually because you’re meant to flee—into haystacks, rooftop gardens, or bustling crowds.
New tools increase your options: a concealed firearm for emergencies, poison blades that turn targets into berzerking distractions, and smoke bombs that turns stealth into a cakewalk. These additions don’t reinvent combat, but reinvigorate it.
The game spans years and five major cities, necessitating a home base: Monteriggioni. Upgrading its villa generates income, introduces new shops, and ties economic progression to exploration. It’s a smart placeholder leveling system that encourages you to engage with the world beyond the critical path.
One of the best additions is the Assassin Tombs—hidden platforming gauntlets tucked into city architecture. They feel like a 3D Prince of Persia homage, combining precision movement, environmental awareness, and escalating tension. Their construction is meticulous, often including shortcuts to alleviate the punishment for failure. Completing them yields the game’s most coveted reward, especially if you have an armor fetish.
My primary complaint lies with the game’s late-stage pacing. Sequences 12 and 13—The Battle of Forlì and The Bonfire of the Vanities—were originally DLC and are now integrated into later editions. They interrupt the narrative momentum just as it feels like Ezio’s story is reaching its natural conclusion.
The Bonfire of the Vanities is particularly egregious: nine poorly motivated assassinations with no emotional stakes, awkward stealth requirements, poor AI behavior, and restart-heavy design. Assassin’s Creed II simply isn’t built for strict stealth missions, and these sequences expose every limitation of the engine. If you have a way of skipping them, I’d recommend doing so without hesitation.
Thankfully, they don’t overshadow the whole experience. Assassin’s Creed II feels like the moment the modern open-world action template finally snapped into place. Character progression is minimal, but gear upgrades compensate well enough.
It uses real history not as window dressing, but as the backbone for personal fiction. Its lore entries, written by Desmond’s sardonic ally Shaun, add texture and context to the world you climb across. Even fictional characters are treated with historical weight, their stories abruptly ending with three blood-red dots once Ezio’s blade finds them.
This is the series at its most confident, human, and ambitious, and one of Ubisoft’s early triumphs.
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