Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 is a dark fantasy RPG blending turn-based tactics with real-time action in a Belle Époque-inspired world. Read our review to see what it did well, what it didn't do well, and if it's worth buying.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Review Overview

What is Clair Obscur: Expedition 33?

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 is a turn-based JRPG with real-time action elements, set in a dreamlike post-apocalyptic version of Belle Époque France. Sixty-seven years after a surreal event known as The Fracture, humanity clings to survival in a world where a mysterious Paintress erases an entire age group every year. You play as members of Expedition 33, a group tasked with venturing into the unknown and uncovering the truth behind the Paintress and the decaying world around them.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 features:
　⚫︎　A Blend of Turn-Based Combat and Real-Time Action
　⚫︎　Mysterious World Inspired by Belle Époque France
　⚫︎　Deeply Customizable Party System
　⚫︎　A Gripping Narrative

For more gameplay details, read everything we know about Clair Obscur: Expedition 33's gameplay and story.

Digital Storefront
Steam	Epic	Playstation	Xbox
$49.99

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Pros & Cons

Pros	Cons
Reinvented Turn-Based Combat Strong Character Dynamics Rich and Mysterious World	Enemy Encounters Can Feel Overly Dense Main Story Is On the Shorter End With Only 30 Hours

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Overall Score - 96/100

Clair Obscur didn’t just meet my expectations—it crushed them, threw them into the wind, and painted something entirely unexpected. It’s a genre-bending JRPG that feels both deeply familiar and daringly fresh, an emotional and visual triumph that stuck with me long after the credits. Despite a few minor nitpicks, it’s a near-masterpiece that deserves to be talked about for years to come.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Story - 9/10

The setup is immediately haunting: a countdown to death, a world shaped by memory and grief, and a mysterious Paintress pulling the strings. The story moves with purpose, slowly revealing layers of its mythology without ever overwhelming. While it’s hard to discuss major twists without veering into spoiler territory, the emotional beats land well and the intrigue keeps things moving. That said, the one-point deduction comes from the ending itself—without spoiling, it might not be what everyone expects. Some may find it disappointing or open to plot-hole speculation, especially when looking at the post-game implications. The story is also prone to withholding information from the players, which can make following the story rather exhausting due to the imbalance between immediate and eventual gratification. But even with that caveat, the experience is absolutely worth it.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Gameplay - 9/10

Turn-based combat? More like turn-based combat evolved. Real-time dodging, parries, QTEs, and precise skill timing keep every encounter dynamic and rewarding. Layered systems like Pictos and Luminas offer meaningful build variety without overwhelming. On the other hand, the core loop can get a bit dense, and there are a lot of enemy encounters, sometimes enough to make you want to sprint past them. It could even lead to a feeling of repetitiveness. And if you really want to be nitpicky, the character menu lacks the creativity, polish and fluidity of the rest of the game. It’s not badly designed, just not as smooth as the rest of the experience.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Visuals - 10/10

This game is art. Its visual identity—decaying Belle Époque grandeur laced with surreal fantasy—is one of the most memorable I’ve seen in years. The environmental storytelling is so rich that I often stopped mid-run just to take it all in. Character designs are striking, creature animations are elegant, and there wasn’t a single frame drop on Xbox during my time with it. Every inch of this game feels crafted with love and intention.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Audio - 10/10

I would live inside this soundtrack if I could. The orchestral score is dynamic and sweeping, with unique themes tailored to each enemy and area. Whether you’re wandering the overworld or locked in an intense boss fight, the music elevates every moment. Voice acting? Spot-on. Each character feels distinct and emotionally grounded thanks to a phenomenal cast. And the ambient sound design deepens the immersion even more.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Value for Money - 10/10

At $49.99, this game is an absolute steal. While the main campaign clocks in around 30 hours, there’s zero filler here—it’s a tight, focused journey with weight. The optional bosses, collectibles, branching builds, and narrative depth make it easy to want to play again, especially if you’re aiming for different character loadouts, want to complete every achievement, or just want to soak in the world one more time. For the price point, it delivers premium storytelling and gameplay without compromise.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Review: A Stroke of Genius

I’ve played some great games this year. And it’s only April. We’re not even halfway through 2025, and I already feel like I’ve been spoiled with riches—lavish RPGs, awaited sequels, big-budget fantasy worlds that scream prestige. I’ve reviewed some of the most hyped titles of the year—Avowed, Kingdom Come Deliverance 2, and yeah, they’re all impressive in their own right. But nothing, and I mean nothing, has had me in a chokehold like Clair Obscur: Expedition 33. This game has its painted claws in me so deep, I had to pry myself away from a second playthrough just to write this review. And believe me, I wrote it fast—so I could jump right back in.

If you haven’t heard of Clair Obscur, don’t worry—I’m about to pull you into it. This is a turn-based JRPG set in a decaying yet breathtaking vision of Belle Époque France. Only.. it’s not really France anymore. Sixty-seven years ago, the world fractured—literally and figuratively—after a cataclysmic event simply known as the Fracture. Entire cities vanished, nations crumbled, and what’s left of humanity now clings to survival in fading strongholds like Lumière, one of the last known cities still standing. Life, as it once was, is over. And death? Death has a schedule now.

Every year, without fail, the Paintress awakens. She paints a number on a tower, and everyone of that age dies. Silently. Swiftly. Without explanation or exception. It’s a kind of haunting poetry—the kind of idea that burrows deep into your brain and stays there, pulsing. Nobody knows why she does it. Nobody knows who she is. And for sixty-seven years, expeditions have been launched to reach her and none have returned.

We follow Gustave, Maelle, Lune, Sciel (and eventually Monoco), the 33rd expedition, the desperate ones, the hopeful ones, the ones still stubborn enough to believe in change. We are Expedition 33. That premise alone was enough to get me curious—but the execution? God. It’s like someone looked at every complaint people have about turn-based JRPGs and just said, "What if we made it hit like an action game and made it gorgeous enough to hang in a gallery?"

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 takes the bones of a classic turn-based RPG and infuses it with adrenaline—real-time dodging, parries, counters, QTEs, and a visual style that looks like a watercolor fever dream. You don’t just sit back and select commands here. You react. You engage. You fight. The result? The most immersive and satisfying combat I’ve experienced in a turn-based game in years. Maybe ever.

But we’re just getting started. Over the next few sections, I’m going to walk you through what makes this game sing—its mechanics, its emotional storytelling, its painterly visuals, and its soundtrack that still echoes in my head even when the console is off. We’ll talk party dynamics, exploration, weird little creatures with too much personality, and even weirder nightmares that break up the journey with moments of eerie calm. I’ll point out where it stumbles too—because yes, there are a couple scuffed edges under all the polish. But most importantly, I’ll help you figure out whether Clair Obscur is worth your time, your money, and your heart.

Spoiler: it is. But let’s not rush. Let’s start with the part that turned me, someone who usually side-eyes turn-based systems, into a believer.

The Combat That Converted Me

Look. I’ll be honest with you. I’m not a turn-based combat person. I like my fights messy, chaotic, in the moment. Real-time combat has always made me feel like I’m in control, like I’m the one driving the action instead of watching it unfold through menu screens. So, when I first learned about Clair Obscur and saw the classic JRPG interface it was to be, I braced myself for a polite, beautiful slog.

But then... something shifted. Because Clair Obscur doesn’t just give you commands—it gives you responsibility. Your reflexes matter. Your timing matters. The game asks you not just to plan, but to act. And it’s this fusion, this perfect storm of turn-based strategy and real-time responsiveness, that makes the whole system sing.

Each turn, you choose your actions like any traditional JRPG: attack, skill, item. But the moment your enemy retaliates? That’s when it’s your turn to fight back. Mid-attack, you’re prompted to parry incoming blows, dodge deadly attacks, jump over shockwaves, even line up QTEs to perfectly land your skills. And these aren’t just flashy little add-ons. These mechanics make or break encounters. You miss a parry? That hit hurts. You land a perfect dodge? You just avoided a status effect and maybe set yourself up for a counterattack. You nail a QTE on a high-tier skill? You might’ve just turned the whole battle around.

I found myself gripping my controller like I was playing an action game, but I was still technically in a JRPG. It’s surreal. It’s exhilarating. It’s the first time I’ve ever shouted "OH MY GOD" after defeating a boss enemy in a turn-based game. And the game rewards you for engaging. Countering, in particular, deals an absolutely disgusting amount of damage. I’m talking boss-melting levels. Even if you’re under-leveled or your build’s a bit scuffed, a well-timed parry can level the playing field. It’s not just flashy—it’s a lifeline.

What I love most, though, is that it doesn’t punish you for learning. I’m terrible at parrying. Like, shameful at it. But the game encourages experimentation. You can dodge instead, study enemy patterns, get better over time. The system feels fair. Responsive. Generous without being easy. And your party? They’re not just there to fill out a damage triangle. Each one feels distinct—not just in stats, but in rhythm. Their skills have different timings, different QTEs, different flows. It’s like each character is a mini-combat language you have to learn, and once you’re fluent? You start stringing together turns like music.

Lune’s healing? Absolute clutch. Especially when paired with her multi-hit AoE attacks. Sciel’s damage output? Terrifying—especially when you tweak her Harvest skills for either selfish DPS or team-focused support. And Maelle… hoo boy. I won’t spoil too much, but let’s just say her skill animations alone had me doing double takes.

There’s also the whole layer of buildcrafting. You’re not stuck with rigid classes—anyone can be your damage dealer, your support, your healer, your "I’m gonna press this button and delete a miniboss" person. It’s flexible, and that freedom makes experimentation feel exciting instead of overwhelming.

The result is this: Clair Obscur gives you a party-based combat system that’s rich, tactile, and constantly evolving. Every fight feels like a little performance—one part ballet, one part brawl. And it’s just so damn satisfying. Whether you're breezing through mobs or white-knuckling your way through a boss with 3 HP left and your healer down, the game keeps you engaged at every step. I walked in a skeptic. I walked out a convert.

Build Variety and Progression

Every member of Expedition 33 has their own unique skills, personality, and thematic style, yes—but they’re not bound to rigid classes. You want Lune to focus more on damage than healing? Go for it. You want to turn Sciel into a support powerhouse with buffs and sustain? You can. Each character’s default leanings give you a starting point, but from there, it’s open season. There are no wrong builds—just bold ones.

Leveling up? It’s fast. Rewarding. Mercifully non-grindy. Each level gives a tangible boost to your stats and skill options, and you’re never stuck slogging through filler just to feel stronger. The game respects your time while still delivering that delicious dopamine hit of progress. And then come the Pictos and Luminas.

Pictos are equippable items that boost a character’s core stats—think attack, defense, health. But they’re more than just stat sticks. Each Picto carries a Lumina, a passive ability that actually matters. These aren’t your generic "+1% crit chance" throwaways. They can be game-changers. Extra healing, bonus effects on skills, status resistances, and even mechanical tweaks that change how a character plays. I ended up heavily relying on Pictos that increased HP, because when you’re face-tanking a stone beast that can one-shot you? Yeah. Every extra point counts.

The Lumina system is where the buildcrafting really starts to sing. Since characters can equip different Pictos (with a cap, of course), you can mix and match passives in a way that makes each party member feel yours. My version of one character might be very different from yours. Maybe yours stacks crits and goes full glass cannon. Maybe mine leans tanky and disruptive. Both are valid. Both are viable. The game gives you space to make those choices. And it’s all wrapped up in a loop that’s dangerously addictive.

You're forced to move from one region of the continent to another, slowly pushing forward on your quest to find the Paintress. Each new map is filled with enemies—a lot of enemies—but I never really minded. At first, I was actively excited to engage, to test my builds and try new skills. Eventually, I started weaving through them just to push the story forward, but even then, the combat stayed rewarding enough to make each battle feel worth it.

And in between battles? You’re finding secret paths, unlocking optional bosses, solving puzzles, and camping—oh my god, the camping. I’ll get into that more later, but it’s a crucial part of the progression loop. Not just narratively, but mechanically. Camp is where you regroup, re-spec, and connect with your party. It’s your breath between battles. Your warm fire in the cold world.

It all just clicks. The combat is satisfying. The characters are flexible. The builds are fun. And the whole thing moves fast enough that you’re always itching to try just one more fight, just one more skill point. Before I knew it, I wasn’t just building a team. I was crafting a family of beautifully broken builds and battle-tested weirdos.

The Loop and Exploration

If the combat and party-building are the meat of Clair Obscur, then the exploration is the wine—rich, textured, and just intoxicating enough to make you lose track of time. The core gameplay loop in Clair Obscur is deceptively simple: move from point A to point B across sprawling regions of the continent, fight your way through increasingly vicious creatures, and follow the trail of clues that leads to the mysterious Paintress. But the moment-to-moment experience? It’s a layered, textured blend of momentum, surprise, and atmosphere.

Every new area feels distinct—not just in aesthetics, but in intent. Some zones are tight and tense, with enemies hiding in blind corners and twisting paths that feel designed to disorient you. Others stretch wide and open, bathed in haunting beauty and near-silence, making you feel small in the best way. The continent doesn’t just look different from place to place—it feels different. The developers clearly wanted every step of the journey to echo the mystery at the heart of the game and it works.

Beyond the chaos of battle, there’s a surprising amount of quiet. Hidden treasures tucked into side paths. Simple puzzles that act like meditative breaks between bloodshed. They exist to make the world feel alive, like it’s worth seeing rather than just rushing through. I loved those moments. I’d stop sprinting just to stare at the horizon, or follow a faint shimmer of light to a reward tucked behind some forgotten ruin.

But the real heart of the loop? The camps. After each major map, you’ll set up camp with the crew. Functionally, yes, they’re checkpoints. You can upgrade your weapons and talk to your party. But emotionally? They’re these rare windows into vulnerability. There’s always some banter, some moment of humanity to ground the fantastical chaos you’ve just survived. The camp also becomes a kind of hub, slowly populated by the odd creatures you help along the way. They don’t just vanish into your journal—they live there now. They offer upgrades, side stories, or just gentle reminders that kindness still exists in this world.

And Maelle’s nightmares… yeah. Those moments hit hard. They aren’t just there for drama—they deepen the emotional stakes of the expedition. These aren’t superheroes. They’re people, and they’re cracking. And that makes their resilience all the more powerful.

All of this—combat, exploration, discovery, rest—it creates a rhythm. You push forward, fight like hell, breathe for a second, and then do it all again. But somehow, it never drags. The pacing is beautifully tuned, and every beat of the loop is crafted to keep you moving, thinking, wondering. The overworld ties it all together. It's a map, yes, but it’s also a connective tissue of light and ruin, of purpose and dread. It reminds you of the scale of your mission. That you’re carving a path through a broken world, step by aching step. So yeah, it’s a loop. But it’s not just a grind. It’s a journey. And by the end of it, you feel like you’ve actually been somewhere.

Mystery of The Continent

There’s something intoxicating about a game that knows how to withhold. Not in a frustrating way—but in a "lean in closer, I’ve got a secret" kind of way. Clair Obscur does this with a quiet confidence, feeding you morsels of information, letting you stew in questions, and only ever answering when it really matters. And honestly? That tension, that carefully drawn-out sense of not-knowing, is a huge part of what makes this story sing.

The world ended 67 years ago. That much we know. Something called The Fracture happened—an event so catastrophic it wiped away everything we understood as life. In the aftermath, a surreal new logic took hold: the Paintress, a figure equal parts myth and inevitability, awakens once a year and changes the number of the countdown. And every person of that age? They just… die. No chaos. No warning. Just silence. Erasure. As if someone lifted a brush and painted them out of existence.

It’s chilling in concept, but even more chilling in how normal it’s become for the survivors. Death, in this world, is less a fear and more a schedule. It’s routine. Cold. Expected. And that normalization—that is what makes it hurt.

Enter Expedition 33. You play as a member of this latest team tasked with journeying into the fractured continent in search of answers—about the Paintress, about the nature of the world, about what lies beyond the dwindling borders of known civilization. But unlike previous expeditions, Expedition 33 has numbers. Momentum. A real shot at pushing further than the team before them.

Or so it seems.

Because the moment you dock on the continent, the game throws its first curveball: an ambush. And not by some snarling beast or mindless monster—no, you’re attacked by a white-haired man, alone, human-looking… and very much alive in a place where that shouldn’t be possible. It’s not just a twist—it’s a reality fracture, a reminder that everything you thought you knew? Yeah. Throw that out the window. And the story only gets better from there.

The mystery unfolds at a pace I can only describe as deliberate. Never slow, never rushed. There’s a confidence in the writing that lets moments breathen. The game doesn’t throw lore dumps at you. It invites you to observe, to piece things together, to notice the way the world mourns itself in architecture, in weather, in memory. And the worldbuilding? Chef’s kiss. It’s French Belle Époque reimagined through a shattered lens—ornate, beautiful, but always slightly off-kilter. Every corner of the map whispers stories you’re not quite sure you’re meant to hear. Who built this? Why is this still standing? Who remembers this? The creatures you face aren’t just evil for the sake of it. Some of them hesitate. Some flee. Some feel like they’re just… surviving. That ambiguity keeps things from ever feeling black-and-white. Even your party doesn’t have all the answers and that’s kind of the point.

The emotional stakes rise gradually, as the Expeditioners begin to realize they may not just be up against monsters or mysterious figures—but something older. Something systemic. Something sacred and terrifying. And still, through all the dread and uncertainty, there’s heart. There’s hope. There’s connection. The game never loses sight of the people at its center—flawed, brave, broken, and resilient. It’s hard to say more without spoiling things, and trust me, this is one story you’ll want to uncover on your own. But what I will say is this:

Clair Obscur doesn’t just tell a story—it paints one. Broad, bold strokes of world-shattering mystery, and delicate little flourishes of humanity and grief. By the end, you won’t just want to know what happens next. You’ll want to understand.

Characters And Their Dynamics

Look, it’s one thing to have cool characters. It’s another thing entirely to care about them. And in Clair Obscur, I cared. I really did. Not because they were overly tragic or dripping with angst (though there is a fair amount of that), but because they felt real—like people you could sit around a fire with, or maybe avoid because the vibes were weird that night, or maybe lean on when the world started to feel too heavy again.

This is where the game completely surprised me. I expected the aesthetics to hit. I expected the combat to be clever. But the emotional glue? The bonds between these characters? That caught me off guard in the best way.

You get to know your party not through forced exposition or awkward info dumps, but through the little things. Campfire chats, for instance, are such a gem. Every time your group settles down after a major boss fight or exploration section, there’s a chance to breathe—to just sit, listen, and talk. And these aren’t one-note exchanges either. These are layered, emotionally charged, sometimes funny, sometimes heartbreaking conversations that reveal how each person is coping (or not coping) with the weight of the expedition. You feel the cracks form. You feel the tension simmer. You feel the care they have for each other, even when they disagree.

The banter was also good, not every line is a zinger, but the rhythm and chemistry feel organic. These aren’t just party members, they’re people whose relationships go way back. They tease, they disagree, they protect each other. That honesty in their interactions makes the stakes feel personal. You’re not just trying to uncover the secrets of the Paintress anymore—you’re trying to keep these people alive, together.

And huge props to the voice acting team, because the performances sell everything. No one sounds phoned-in. You can hear the exhaustion, the hope, the flickers of fear—every line feels like it’s lived-in. There’s a sincerity to the delivery that elevates even the smaller, quieter scenes. I can’t tell you how many times I caught myself just sitting through full camp dialogues without skipping a line—not because I had to, but because I wanted to hear them speak. I wanted to sit with them.

There’s something beautiful about watching characters open up, not because the story demands it, but because the situation allows it. When you're standing on the edge of the unknown, surrounded by death and myth, sometimes all you can do is lean on the people next to you. And in Clair Obscur, those people are worth it.

Belle Epoque Atmosphere

And finally, the thing that Clair Obscur nails so thoroughly it makes other games feel like they forgot to show up to class, it’s the vibe. Pure, undeniable, gorgeously overwhelming vibe. Let’s start with the obvious: this game is a stunner. Like, "stop what you’re doing and just stare at the screen for a moment" kind of beautiful. Every frame feels curated, every shadow feels intentional, every beam of light filtering through crumbling Belle Époque architecture feels like it’s whispering a story. It's a decaying dream, wrapped in myth and melancholy, with swirls of surrealism baked right into the environment. There’s a painterly touch to the world that doesn’t just look good—it feels like part of the lore, which makes sense, considering how deeply intertwined paint and creation are to the game’s core.

You’re not just walking through abandoned ruins, you’re walking through memories. Through places that once thrived and have now been warped by the passage of time and the will of the Paintress. And the world never lets you forget that. From tiny environmental details like collapsed sculptures or wilted gardens, to massive, sky-spanning monuments across the horizon, Clair Obscur tells its story not only through dialogue, but through visual echoes.

Performance-wise? Flawless on Xbox. No hitches, no weird stutters, no immersion-breaking pop-ins. Just buttery-smooth traversal through a world that feels too fragile to exist and too vivid to look away from. And then… oh my, the audio.

The soundtrack? A revelation. Every region has its own sonic identity, its own moodboard in music form. There’s an ever-present sense of accompaniment, like the soundtrack is journeying alongside you—not just filling space, but reacting emotionally to what’s happening. Gentle strings swell when the party’s bonding. Ominous pulses crawl in during tense exploration. And boss fights? Whew. The music soars. You can practically feel the stakes climbing note by note.

Even regular enemy encounters get their own unique tracks, which is a wild level of care. There’s no generic "battle theme" fatigue here. Every fight feels important, sounds important. It amplifies the sense of immersion because you’re never hearing something on loop that disconnects you from the world—you’re hearing a bespoke soundtrack to your journey. The sound design is also truly impeccable. The creatures don't just roar—they wail, they whisper, they sing. Every little sonic detail reinforces that this is a place half-lost to time, half-held together by willpower and myth.

What all this adds up to is a game that doesn't just tell a story—it embodies it. Clair Obscur wraps you in its atmosphere and doesn’t let go. It paints with color and sound and silence and decay. And by the end, even when the credits roll, some part of you is still standing there… in the ruins, in the light, in the hush before the next chapter.

Is Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Worth It?

The Expedition Of A Lifetime

In a year filled with highly anticipated releases, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 stands as a towering achievement in both storytelling and gameplay. Its blend of innovative combat mechanics, breathtaking visuals, and emotionally charged narrative hooks you from the first step and doesn’t let go until the final credits roll. Whether you’re a seasoned JRPG fan or someone who’s never quite clicked with the genre, this game finds a way to draw you in, offering both depth and accessibility in ways that feel just right. The journey through Belle Époque France, where the mysterious Fracture looms over everything, is a masterpiece of design, from the careful construction of its world to the ever-present intrigue of the characters and creatures you encounter. Each element, from the engaging combat system to the beautifully atmospheric soundtrack, is expertly crafted and rewards your attention.

The story, too, is a journey of its own. It doesn’t rush to answer all its questions, it invites you to explore, to discover, and to piece together its mysteries. You’ll feel the weight of the Paintress's countdown in every moment, and the slow unraveling of the truth will keep you hooked. If you love games that don't just entertain but also immerse you in a deeply emotional and thought-provoking world, then Clair Obscur is an easy recommendation.

As for the game’s value? It’s worth every penny. For a game that offers 30 hours of rich narrative, varied gameplay, and a world you’ll want to revisit, the price of $49.99 feels like a steal. Even with some minor quibbles about the interface or occasional repetition in the exploration loop, the sheer quality of the experience outweighs any small drawbacks. So, if you’re looking for a game that combines thoughtful worldbuilding, satisfying gameplay mechanics, and a story that stays with you long after you’ve finished it, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 is more than worth it. This isn’t just a game—it’s an expedition, one you’ll want to embark on again and again.

Digital Storefront
Steam	Epic	Playstation	Xbox
$49.99

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 FAQ

What Are The System Requirements for Clair Obscur: Expedition 33?

How Can You Get All Tokens At The Harbor in Clair Obscur: Expedition 33?

Spoilers Ahead

You start with one token and can get the other by defeating Maelle who’s down by the docks. The last one you can get by answering all Antione’s questions correctly. The answers are:

　⚫︎　67 Years Ago
　⚫︎　Expedition Zero
　⚫︎　Abilities you internalise by using Pictos in battle after enough times

Game8 Reviews

You may also like...

	Metaphor: ReFantazio Review
	Persona 3 Reload: Episode Aigis Review
	Persona 3 Reload Review
	Xenoblade Chronicles X: Definitive Edition Review
	Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 News

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Product Information

Title	CLAIR OBSCUR: EXPEDITION 33
Release Date	April 24, 2025
Developer	Sandfall Interactive
Publisher	Kepler Interactive
Supported Platforms	PC, PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S
Genre	RPG, Adventure, Action
Number of Players	1
ESRB Rating	M
Official Website	Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 Website

Allisandra Reyes

I find joy in the adrenaline rush of horror games, but my thrill-seeking doesn't stop there. Beyond the digital realm, I like to take on the role of designated GM in TTRPGs.