Blue Prince Review: Is This Rewarding Architectural Puzzler Worth the Obsession?

If you’ve spent any time in the puzzle-gaming community over the last year, you’ve probably heard people talking about “the notebook.” Not a digital log or an in-game menu, but an actual, physical stack of paper filled with scribbled safe codes, floor plans, and family trees. That’s the legacy of Blue Prince. Ever since it landed in early 2025, it has been less of a game and more of a collective obsession for a certain type of player—the kind who doesn’t mind feeling like a genius at 2:00 AM and a complete idiot by 2:15 AM.

It’s the kind of momentum that makes you wonder what else is hiding in the shadows of the release calendar. Speaking of surprises, the industry just got a massive jolt with the Sons of Sparta shadow drop, a Metroidvania that trades the quiet drafting of blueprints for high-octane combat. It’s a wild pivot from the methodical pace of Mt. Holly, but for those of us addicted to exploration, it’s another rabbit hole worth falling down.

When I first stepped into the shoes of Simon P. Jones, I thought I knew what I was getting into. A teenage boy inherits a sprawling mansion from his eccentric great-uncle, Herbert S. Sinclair, but there’s a catch: find the 46th room, or lose it all. It sounds like the setup for a cozy point-and-click adventure, doesn’t it? But within twenty minutes, I realized that Mt. Holly is less of a house and more of a living, breathing machine designed to test your sanity.

Key Takeaways

• Blue Prince is a genre-defying “metroidbrainia” that blends a 45-room architectural drafting mechanic with a high-stakes roguelike loop, challenging you to navigate the shifting Mt. Holly Estate to find a hidden 46th room.
• You’ll find yourself constantly balancing a tight “step” budget and randomized room choices while maintaining a physical notebook to track a narrative that evolves from a simple inheritance mystery into a complex tale of political rebellion and family trauma.
• It is a rewarding yet occasionally grueling masterpiece that demands total mental immersion, though its late-game puzzles can get so cryptic they’ll push even the most dedicated players toward a sense of genuine obsessive “madness.”

The Architect’s Dilemma: How the House Works

The core hook of Blue Prince is something I haven’t really seen elsewhere. You start every day at the entrance hall of a 9×5 grid. Every time you approach a door, the game gives you a choice of three rooms to “draft.” It’s like a deck-builder, but you’re building a floor plan. Do you pick the Bedroom because it gives you two extra “steps” (your primary resource)? Or do you pick the Greenhouse because it’s full of “green” items like shovels and dirt piles that might hide gold or keys?

This is where the strategy gets messy in the best possible way. You only have a set number of steps—initially 50—to explore the entire manor. Every door you pass through consumes one step. If you run out, Simon collapses from exhaustion, and you wake up back in your tent outside. The house resets. Every room you carefully placed is gone, replaced by a blank slate.

It’s a roguelike, sure, but the “runs” aren’t about combat. They’re about efficiency. I remember one run where I was desperately trying to reach the north end of the manor to check a lead on the “Antechamber.” I had five steps left. And I drafted a “Foyer” because I knew it would automatically unlock all adjacent hallway doors. I felt like a total genius right up until the moment I realized I’d boxed myself into a corner with three “Dead End” rooms I’d drafted earlier just to grab their resources. That’s the beauty and the frustration of the drafting system. You aren’t just exploring a maze; you’re the one building the maze that eventually traps you.

Knowledge as the Only True Currency

There’s a term people have been using for Blue Prince: “metroidbrainia.” If you’ve played Outer Wilds or Return of the Obra Dinn, you know the vibe. You don’t get a double-jump or a power-up that unlocks a new area. Instead, you find a note in a trash can in the “Utility Closet” that mentions a date—say, March 14th. You realize that date is a potential code for a safe you saw three runs ago in the “Study.”

The game doesn’t track this for you. There is no “Objective” marker pointing to the safe. There isn’t even a “Case Board” in the menu. If you didn’t write it down, you’ve lost it. This creates a fascinating relationship between the player and the game. I started using a dedicated graph-paper notebook. By the time I actually found Room 46, my desk looked like a total mess—basically a conspiracy theorist’s basement.

One of the most memorable puzzles involved the “Parlor.” It’s a classic logic problem with three boxes. One always lies, one always tells the truth, and one… well, the third one is a wildcard. Solving it isn’t hard once, but because of the roguelike nature, you might encounter that room dozens of times. Some critics have complained that repeating these minor puzzles feels like “filler,” but I found it added to the atmosphere. You’re Simon, a kid trapped in his uncle’s obsessive world. Doing the same logic puzzles over and over feels like part of the indoctrination.

The Family Tree and the Red Herring

While the gameplay is built on mechanics and math, the soul of Blue Prince is its narrative. It’s remarkably deep for a game where you never actually talk to another living soul. The story is told through environmental storytelling—the “show, don’t tell” rule taken to its extreme.

Herbert Sinclair, the uncle, isn’t just an “eccentric.” As you dig through the staff announcements and the red letters scattered around, you realize the Sinclair family was deeply intertwined with the “Fenn Aires” government—a militaristic regime that used the manor for things much darker than puzzle-solving.

Then there’s Mary Epsen, Simon’s mother. Finding her trail is when the game really shifts from a mystery to something political. Her puzzles are often tied to children’s books she wrote, which turn out to be coded manuals for rebel activity. There’s a specific “Blue Prince” vs. “Blueprints” pun that runs through the whole game. Without spoiling the ending, becoming the “Blue Prince” isn’t just about inheriting a title; it’s about a fundamental shift in loyalty.

I found the “Mary” storyline much more compelling than the hunt for Room 46. There’s a certain melancholy to exploring these beautifully cel-shaded rooms and finding remnants of a woman who was clearly trying to save her son from a world of propaganda. The game does this incredible thing where it uses “red” items as a symbol for the government and “blue” items for the rebellion. You start the game obsessed with the red—the “proper” way to do things—and slowly, your inventory fills with blue.

Dealing with the RNG and the Late-Game “Wall”

Let’s be honest: Blue Prince isn’t perfect. By the time you’ve put in 40 or 50 hours, the randomness of the drafts can start to feel like a personal insult from the game. There were days where I really needed a “Workshop” room to craft a specific tool, but the drafting pool just kept giving me “Bathrooms” and “Coat Closets.”

The community has been divided on this. Some players love the tension—the feeling that you have to make do with what you’re given. Others find it tedious. Personally, I think the frustration is intentional. The developer, Dogubomb, seems to want you to feel the weight of the house.

However, the “Aries Key” puzzle and the final stretches involving Baroness Auravei (the great-grandmother) are undeniably obtuse. We’re talking about “moon logic” levels of difficulty. Some of these clues require you to cross-reference dates from the 1800s with the number of buttons on a specific portrait. It’s the kind of thing that drives people to datamine the code just to get a straight answer.

By the time I reached the “rough draft” area—a late-game zone where the house looks unfinished and glitchy—I felt genuinely exhausted. The game pushes you to the brink of “becoming slightly unwell,” as one reviewer put it. It’s a simulation of obsession. You aren’t just playing a character who is obsessed; you become that character.

Technical State in Early 2026

If you’re just picking this up now, you’re actually in a better position than the launch day players. Back in April 2025, there were some nasty bugs where you could clip through the world or have your save file hang during the transition between days. Most of those have been patched out.

The console versions (Xbox and PS5) run smoothly now, and the addition of the “Mac” version last September opened it up to a whole new crowd of “coffee shop” puzzlers. One thing to note is that the game is on Game Pass and PS Plus, which is probably the best way to play it. It’s a high-commitment game, but a low-barrier entry.

One “feature” that hasn’t changed is the lack of a built-in hint system. This was a bold choice in 2025 and remains bold today. Dogubomb clearly wanted to foster a community of collaboration. If you get stuck, you have to go to the forums or talk to friends. In an era where most games have a “press X for a hint” button, this feels like a breath of fresh air, even if it does make you want to throw your controller sometimes.

Is It Worth Your Time?

Blue Prince is a game that respects your intelligence, perhaps a bit too much at times. It doesn’t care if you have a job, or kids, or a life outside Mt. Holly. It wants you to stay up late thinking about why the “Billiard Room” has a dartboard with a missing 14.

If you like the “Eureka!” moment of a well-designed puzzle, there is nothing better on the market right now. Every time I thought I’d seen everything, the game would throw a new mechanic at me—like the “Power Hammer” that lets you break through walls, completely changing how you think about the 9×5 grid.

But if you’re looking for a relaxing, linear story, stay away. This is a game of friction. It’s a game of failing forty times before you find one small scrap of paper that makes the last ten hours of work make sense. It’s beautiful, it’s eerie, and it’s occasionally a bit of a nightmare.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget the feeling of finally stepping into Room 46. It wasn’t just a “victory” screen. It felt like a release. Like I could finally close my notebook, put away my pens, and go back to being a normal person who doesn’t dream in 9×5 grids.

Frequently Asked Questions (PAA)

Who is Simon P. Jones?

Simon is the fourteen-year-old protagonist of the game. He is the grandnephew of Herbert S. Sinclair and the son of Mary Epsen. Throughout the game, you discover that Simon’s upbringing was heavily influenced by the propaganda of a militaristic government, and his journey through the manor is as much about his personal political awakening as it is about finding an inheritance.

How many rooms are actually in Blue Prince?

While the manor is structurally described as having 45 rooms on a 9×5 grid, the goal is to find the elusive 46th room. But don’t expect to see the same things every time; there are actually over 60 different types of rooms that can pop up in your drafting pool, each with unique layouts, resources, and puzzles. Some rooms, like the “Antechamber,” only appear under very specific conditions late in a run.

Can you beat Blue Prince without taking notes? Honestly?

Not a chance. Unless you have a photographic memory, the game is designed to be impossible without external record-keeping. You need to track safe codes, room synergies (like how the “Morning Room” buffs your gems for the next day), and narrative clues that span multiple “days” of exploration.

Does Blue Prince have multiple endings?

Yes. While finding Room 46 is the “primary” objective and will trigger the credits for many, there are deeper narrative layers. Following the “Mary Epsen” rebel trail or the “Baroness Auravei” historical trail leads to different conclusions that provide much more context regarding the world outside Mt. Holly and the true nature of the shifting house.

What are the most important resources to manage?

“Steps” are your most vital resource, as they limit how much you can explore in a single day. However, “Gems” are a close second because they allow you to draft “Rare” rooms that often contain the most important puzzles or shortcuts. “Gold” is useful for buying items at the Bookstore or Shop, and “Keys” are essential for unlocking the many doors and chests that block your progress.

How does the roguelike “reset” work?

At the end of every day—either by choice or by running out of steps—the entire manor is cleared. All rooms you placed are gone, and all consumables (gold, keys, gems, items) are lost. The only thing you actually keep is what’s in your head—and your notebook. There are also a few permanent upgrades you can unlock that give you a better starting position for future runs.

Wrapping Up

What about you? Have you managed to crack the code of the Sinclair inheritance yet, or are you still stuck trying to figure out why the “Sun Room” always seems to appear when you have zero steps left? I’d love to hear about your most frustrating (or triumphant) runs in the comments. And if you’ve got a photo of your “conspiracy notebook,” definitely share it—we’re all in this madness together!

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Sources:

• www.ign.com/articles/blue-prince-review
• www.roomescapeartist.com/2025/06/19/blue-prince-review/
• www.gamingtrend.com/reviews/blue-prince-review-puzzle-perfection/
• www.gamegrin.com/reviews/blue-prince-review/