Game Review: 'Blue Prince'- A Masterclass in Puzzle Design and Mystery

This is one of the best games I've ever played, and it's my Game of the Year so far.

That’s not an exaggeration. It’s not hyperbole. And it’s not just a reaction to a good first impression. After spending hours inside the ever-shifting halls of Blue Prince, I can confidently say this game is something special. It’s not just unique—it’s built differently. A puzzle game that doesn’t want to be solved, a mystery that doesn’t hand you clues, and a space that demands your full attention. It lures you in with a simple hook and then locks the door behind you. What follows is one of the most intellectually satisfying experiences I’ve had in years.

On paper, Blue Prince sounds almost quaint. You’re placed in a mysterious mansion with a seemingly simple goal: reach room 46. The catch? The house only has 45 rooms. That contradiction is the first of many. You start each day with a few precious minutes, drafting new rooms onto the mansion’s grid one at a time. Each room you place eats up your time. Some offer rewards, some offer dead ends, and others feel like riddles all on their own. The act of building the mansion becomes a strategic puzzle, and you’re always working against the clock.

But if you think this is a cozy, procedural roguelike where you can brute force your way to victory, you’re wrong. Blue Prince has more in common with games like The Outer Wilds or Fez than it does with your average tile-based indie. It’s not about progress. It’s about knowledge. The more you play, the more you begin to sense the deeper mechanics lurking under the surface. The mansion isn't random. It's hiding something—something bigger, stranger, and much more deliberate than it first appears.

What makes Blue Prince shine is its refusal to explain itself. There’s no tutorial. No hand-holding. No blinking arrows telling you where to go. You’re left alone to figure it out, and that trust is powerful. Every breakthrough you make feels earned. You begin to notice patterns, symbols, layouts. Rooms start behaving in ways that don’t match your expectations. The game is constantly challenging your assumptions and forcing you to revise your strategies. And when things finally start to click, it’s not just satisfying—it’s exhilarating.

The mansion itself feels alive. Not in a horror-game-jumpscare kind of way, but in that unsettling, off-kilter way that reminds you you’re being watched. It reacts to your decisions. It evolves. It feels like it’s hiding secrets around every corner. And even after hours of play, there are rooms I’ve only seen once, mechanics I barely understand, and entire systems I suspect I’ve only scratched the surface of.

What Blue Prince understands—and what so many puzzle games forget—is that mystery is a powerful motivator. The game doesn’t insult your intelligence. It expects you to dig deep, to take notes, to experiment. And more importantly, it expects you to fail. But it never punishes you for failure in a way that feels cruel. Instead, it reframes failure as progress. Every reset is a chance to try something new, to test a theory, to chase a strange new possibility. It’s not a roguelike in the traditional sense. It’s more like a conspiracy you’re slowly unraveling.

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve sat back from my screen, eyebrows raised, realizing that something I assumed about the game was completely wrong. That kind of reorientation—where the game shifts beneath your feet and forces you to re-contextualize everything you thought you knew—is rare. It’s the kind of moment you chase as a player. And Blue Prince delivers it over and over again.

This isn’t a game for everyone. If you want instant gratification, if you need clear objectives and linear progress, you’re going to bounce off it hard. But if you like puzzles that bite back, if you enjoy feeling lost in the best way, Blue Prince is going to hit like a revelation. It’s a game that dares you to pay attention. And when you do, it rewards you with one of the most layered, intriguing, and brilliantly designed experiences in recent memory.

We talk about Game of the Year as if it’s only reserved for the biggest productions—the ones with massive budgets and marketing campaigns. But Blue Prince proves that ambition isn’t measured in scope. It’s measured in design, in boldness, in the willingness to take risks most games wouldn’t even dream of. This is a GOTY contender, plain and simple. An indie that deserves not just recognition, but a place in the conversation. Don’t miss this one.

Now available on Steam, Xbox Series X | S and Playstation 5