THE ART OF NEVER GETTING IT RIGHT
At this point, it doesn't really matter what Ubisoft does with Assassin's Creed. They've lost it. The magic is gone, the mystique has faded, and the factory just keeps churning games out on autopilot. When they announced Assassin's Creed: Mirage as a return to the series' roots after years of bloated open-world RPGs, it sounded like music to my ears.
But after playing Mirage, the situation somehow feels even more hopeless.
Mirage is polished, competent, and more focused than its predecessors, yet it still feels like a mass-produced product rather than a crafted experience. Basim is the blandest protagonist the series has had since Connor made Assassin's Creed III such a chore to sit through. His generic story is the kind you forget while you're still playing it. Why exactly are we hunting down the Hidden Ones? Honestly, who cares? I just follow the objective marker and quietly hope the credits roll sooner rather than later.
So it is with a heavy heart that I say Ubisoft made the right call. They even made a perfectly functional game. And somehow, they still got it wrong.
We're walking the same well-worn path all over again. The setting may be new, as always—this time taking us to ninth-century Iraq, primarily Baghdad—but it feels like we've been running, climbing and fighting through this exact same brown-filtered desert city before. By the time the credits rolled, I hadn't learned anything new, nor had I improved at playing Assassin's Creed. Everything unfolded on pure muscle memory.
This time, the story revolves around dismantling a secretive masked cult. As Basim, your mission is to identify and assassinate its handful of key members before they can tighten their grip on the empire. The map covers Baghdad, a small nearby settlement, and the mostly empty desert surrounding them—a welcome reduction in scale, with far fewer map markers begging for your attention.
As a result, the game is considerably shorter. An experienced player can comfortably finish the main story in under twenty hours.
Unfortunately, it's still built around the same narrative structure as recent entries. The main missions are completable in any order, totally isolating them from one another. Side characters drift in and out before you ever have a chance to care about them. Nearly all of them are just as forgettable as Basim himself, and their painfully ordinary character designs do little to give them any personality. Most of the story is little more than mission briefings and straightforward exposition.
The lone exception is Roshan, the leader of the Hidden Ones, who takes Basim under her wing. She's voiced by the incomparable Shohreh Aghdashloo, whose gravelly voice may well be the most distinctive in Hollywood. The complicated relationship between her and Basim could have served as the emotional backbone of the story, but it's mostly squandered in favor of broad, murky filler.
Mechanically, there's honestly not much else to say.
It's Assassin's Creed as you've already played it, with only minor tweaks to combat. Success largely comes down to your ability to parry and counterattack, rewarding you with a quick, stylish execution. Miss the timing, however, and you're left slowly chipping away at oversized health bars while more enemies join the fight and make your life miserable.
The game clearly wants you to embrace stealth instead, which is a welcome return to the series' original identity. Thankfully, assassinations are instant kills once again, regardless of enemy type, and the mission design is a clear improvement over the half-hearted assassination contracts from the RPG trilogy.
This time, you're actually encouraged to hide in tall grass, observe patrol routes, plan your approach and search for the perfect opening. New gadgets can be unlocked and upgraded through the Hidden Ones' quartermaster, including throwing knives, smoke bombs and poison darts. Basim's eagle, Enkidu, assists by scouting enemy positions from above.
On paper, Mirage offers an impressive toolbox for stealth-focused players.
Better still, everything feels smooth and intuitive to control. Parkour is responsive, and I was surprised by how rarely I found myself blaming the game when something went wrong.
Ubisoft has also added a handful of smaller systems that make the world feel more alive, including a pickpocketing minigame and a notoriety system where civilians report your crimes to the authorities. You can even pet the street cats. Bribing musicians or local troublemakers to create distractions is another nice touch—a subtle nod to Ezio's little tricks back in Assassin's Creed II.
It's a beautiful game, too. The character models may occasionally look unsettling, but the environments radiate an almost tangible desert heat that makes the heavy assassin robes seem unbearably uncomfortable to wear. The sound design is equally immersive, from footsteps crunching through sand to grass rustling in the wind and Basim gasping for breath as his stamina runs dry during a desperate escape.
All of this is appreciated.
The problem is that a certain baseline level of quality has never really been this series' issue. Mirage doesn't use that craftsmanship to create anything memorable—it simply reminds me how much better Assassin's Creed II and Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag were.
Those weren't just polished games. They were fresh, inventive, outrageously fun, and backed by genuinely compelling stories.
Mirage is none of those things.
If Ubisoft isn't willing to retire this franchise altogether, then perhaps it should at least let it hibernate for a decade. Once the fond memories have had time to settle, bring it back with a true reboot—one that embraces how games have evolved and dares to rethink combat, stealth and assassination from the ground up.
Mirage is undeniably competent. Ironically, that's almost what makes it so disappointing. A few spectacular glitches might at least have given the experience some personality. NPCs walking backwards. Heads spinning around. Character models sprinting through Baghdad in a T-pose. At least then I'd have something memorable to take away from it.
As it stands, Mirage already has one foot planted firmly in oblivion.
Like the end of the Ezio trilogy, Mirage also concludes with a major plot twist that caught me off guard. Unlike those earlier games, however, this twist is little more than an empty attempt at shock value.
For the entire game, I've been tracking down and assassinating villains. The twist—without spoiling anything—suddenly pivots toward an almost irrelevant subplot I'd barely spared a thought for throughout the entire campaign. My only reaction was: "Oh. Is that it?"
A fitting ending for a thoroughly forgettable game.
If you simply can't get enough of old-school Assassin's Creed, then by all means, play Mirage. It's a decent game and undeniably a step in the right direction. In a few years' time, I wouldn't be surprised if people started calling it "underrated."
Unfortunately, plenty of less flattering labels fit just as well:
"Fan service", "Repetitive", "Soulless".
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