In spite of a very long history, nobody's ever really gotten tired of pretending to be a ninja. From the distant past of Capcom's sidescrolling Strider and The Ninja Warriors' widescreen robo-ninja violence through the still-missed sneakiness of PlayStation classic Tenchu to the lyrical excesses of Metal Gear Rising, no one's immune to the allure of playing as some sort of kick-flipping, bird-avoiding, mech-slicing hero.
Ninjas are cool. This is a fact, as unshakeable as the sun rising in the east and Donatello being the best turtle.
And it looks like 2025 is going to be a bumper year for long-training secretive shuriken-throwers like myself. We're getting a compressed blast of the past, present, and future of ninja theory all at once, a flurry of games that have their own idea of what the perfect ninja fantasy looks like, ranging from kinetic arcade action to somber experiences that expect me to execute a series of deadly moves with ruthless efficiency.
Ninja Gaiden 2 Black is a linear roller coaster of a remake where one epic battle seamlessly blends into the next, the action briefly stopping only to make sure I take a moment to appreciate the way Ryu's clothing flaps in the wind as he stands atop a roof in the moonlight.
The thrill here is in the way NG2 throws hordes of enemies at me, inviting me to run headlong into the fray and then confidently slash and slice every one into tiny blood-soaked pieces. The aim is to become so good at it I'm virtually unstoppable, to see every opponent not as an obstacle, but as one more thing to flex on.
Ninja Gaiden 4 has already shown it's trying to recapture that glory, every promotional screenshot showing off another impressive pose in atmospheric scenes lit exclusively by either lightning or cyberpunk-style neon. The numbered Ninja Gaidens clearly have a very well-defined idea of what "ninja" means to them, and they're sticking with it.
Ninja Gaiden: Ragebound has enough distance from its 3D counterparts to be a little more experimental. It's still quick to emphasise how challenging it's going to be, but it looks like the areas surrounding the new hero, Kenji, will be as dangerous as anything he finds within them. Every screenshot that isn't littered with masked enemies seems to have been coated with an intimidating layer of bloodstained spikes, and the available clips seem to treat standing still as an unforgivable sin.
Surviving a relentless onslaught of dangers looks like the focus here, a cool ninja someone capable of bouncing from wall to enemy to ledge without pausing for breath. PC Gamer's Robin Valentine says it isn't as brutal as it looks, but an hour playing it convinced him Ragebound is "a quick and clever take on retro side-scrollers that's demanding without feeling punishing."
Released on Steam in late February after years of inaccessibility, Ninja Five-O's colourful pixel art and charmingly outlandish scenarios are a million miles away from Gaiden's moody rain-slicked leathers and raytraced reflections. Here, ninja is found almost exclusively in its acrobatics. The only thing Konami's reissue of its old and now painfully expensive GBA game (a brand new OLED Steam Deck and a digital copy of the game is literally cheaper than a second hand boxed copy) is serious about is precision platforming, asking me to carefully work my way up to tiny ledges, crawl through narrow gaps, and track down colour-coded keys so I can unlock their matching doors, several trap-filled rooms away.
There are still plenty of enemies for me to fight (including a fantastic boss who's dressed like they've got a bank heist at 6pm and a starring role in a kabuki theatre production at 7), but safely getting around the game's extremely hazardous, almost puzzle-like environments, searching for hostages to rescue anywhere from caves to airports as I use my ninja chain to swing off ceilings without setting myself on fire (again) or zapped by lasers, is where Five-O's idea of "ninja" lies.
Somehow there's more! Another modern throwback like Ragebound, Sega's Shinobi: Art of Vengeance mixes up the sidescroller concept again. Here a ninja must be the almost supernatural star of a more flashy kind of fantasy, combining huge sword swings and speedy sci-fi surfboarding with screen-wide magical attacks and a saturated, almost brushstroke-like styling. Judging by the trailers, I'm going to move fast across impossible gaps and only be on polite nodding terms with gravity. It's the first new Shinobi game in nearly a decade and a half.
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Tactical Takedown's demo may look colourful and cheerful, but its turn-based rules makes me feel like I'm a master of the shadowy arts; carefully considering every position-dependent action, every leap and kick I execute all part of some grand strategic plan where action economy matters at least as much as the amount of damage I'm doing. I'm sure Splinter would be proud.
And then, of course, there's Assassin's Creed Shadows, the biggest budget ninja game of the year. The world itself might be shallow, but the way Shadows separates its two playstyles into individual ninja and samurai characters serves to make each distinct. Naoe can't last long in a sword fight, but I can hide her in the tiniest sliver of shadows, bound across rooftops and leap from castle walls to drop onto unsuspecting guards below before they ever have a chance to draw their katanas.
These games look like they couldn't be more different, but when viewed together they show how the genre is as stealthy as the characters within it. Their chameleonic nature is surely the reason why ninja games have not just survived, but are still flourishing—nobody, not even other ninja games, can guess what they'll do next. It's not about equipment or skills or whether enough stages are tastefully covered in a delicate carpet of cherry blossom. It's about capturing a particular feeling, and that feeling is "I am the coolest and most capable person to ever walk the earth." If a game can make me feel like I have an answer for everything it throws my way, no matter how strong or overwhelming it may seem, then it's a ninja game.
If it doesn't, then no amount of hacking at demonic beings or whirling jumps can make it one.
A true ninja game blends into every environment, as at home in thoughtful grid-based strategy as it is in free-flowing action, remoulding itself to suit every hot trend, exciting idea, budget size, and graphical style. All of this year's available and upcoming shinobi spectaculars understand this, which is why they can all sneak up on the same general idea from such a wide range of unexpected angles and still feel like they've captured the spirit of the genre, like… like a ninja, I suppose.
