I still remember that first beach landing in Baldur's Gate 3—the gritty sand under my virtual boots, the wreckage of the nautiloid smoldering behind me, and that strange mix of exhilaration and nagging familiarity washing over me. As a longtime fan who'd poured hundreds of hours into Divinity: Original Sin 2, the déjà vu hit me like a tidal wave. Here I was again, shipwrecked on a strange shore, about to dive into Act 1 of another Larian masterpiece. Yet beneath the awe of the stunning visuals and intricate mechanics, a whisper of disappointment lingered: Not this structure again. It felt like reuniting with an old friend who insists on retelling the same story with fancier special effects. 😮‍💨

Larian's devotion to the three-act (sometimes four-act) framework isn't just a quirk—it's a legacy stretching from 2014's Divinity: Original Sin to their latest triumph. Divinity: Original Sin 2 even flirted with four acts, though Acts 3 and 4—The Nameless Isle and Arx—felt like unfinished sketches hastily stapled together. And now, history echoes loudly in Baldur's Gate 3. Swen Vincke recently tweeted about "cracking" the first act of their next game, while Lead Designer Anna Guxens openly admitted to "tonal" issues in Act 3. That admission barely scratches the surface. Act 3’s rushed finale, patched endings, and shallow character arcs felt like a punch to the gut after the meticulous brilliance of earlier chapters. 💔

Act 3’s struggles aren’t isolated. I recall Arx in Divinity: Original Sin 2—a finale so underwhelming that Larian rebuilt it for the Definitive Edition, adding quests, areas, and narrative depth. It’s become their cursed tradition: a spectacular setup followed by a fumbled finish. When I reached Baldur's Gate 3’s climax, that same hollow sensation returned. The city, meant to feel like a triumphant homecoming, instead whispered of deadlines and cut corners. It’s frustrating—like watching a world-class sprinter stumble meters from the finish line.

Before Baldur's Gate 3 even launched, I secretly hoped Larian would defy expectations. Instead, the parallels screamed louder than a dragon’s roar. Original Sin 2? Shipwrecked on a beach. Baldur's Gate 3? Nautiloid-wrecked on a beach. Both Act 1 maps shared that lush, exploratory vibe before diverging slightly in the middle—only to converge again in a sprawling city for the finale. For newcomers, it’s a revelation. For veterans like me? It was storytelling déjà vu. I caught myself muttering, "Guys, can’t we try something different?" After three games with identical bones, that creative conservatism stings. 🗺️

Compare this to Baldur's Gate 2, a game I replayed nostalgically just last year. Though not open-world by 2025 standards, its Sword Coast felt massive—a tapestry of cities, villages, and dungeons spanning diverse biomes. Traveling via overworld map gave it an epic, nonlinear freedom. Baldur's Gate 3? For all its jaw-dropping detail, it funnels you rigidly through two biomes (plus brief detours) before the city. The design is masterful, but it lacks that grand, untethered adventure. I miss feeling truly unleashed.

Larian’s level designers craft worlds teeming with secrets—every nook hides a story, every cranny a challenge. Why shackle that genius to the same old rhythm? Imagine borrowing Dragon Age: Inquisition’s biome diversity—its deserts, forests, and snowfields—but infused with Larian’s obsessive detail. Inquisition’s maps felt empty, yes, but the concept? Revolutionary for its time. Blend that scope with Larian’s density, and you’d have fireworks. 🎇

• Why this matters: Larian isn’t just repeating history; they’re risking creative stagnation.

• The irony: Baldur’s Gate 3 is a masterpiece—our 2023 Game of the Year! But FromSoftware proved with Elden Ring that shaking up formulas breeds new legends.

• My plea: Let Act 1 be a forest, Act 2 a desert, Act 3 a sky-city—anything but beach-to-city again.

So here we are in 2025, with Larian teasing their next project—likely Divinity: Original Sin 3. I’m thrilled, yet apprehensive. Swen Vincke’s confidence in "cracking" Act 1 sounds like more familiar territory. But after three acts of structural déjà vu across a decade, I crave boldness. What if their next game abandoned acts entirely? What if it embraced Baldur’s Gate 2’s sprawling freedom or Inquisition’s biome-hopping—but with Larian’s signature soul? Their talent is undeniable, but true greatness demands evolution. As I reminisce about that first sandy stumble in Baldur’s Gate 3, I don’t just want another beach landing. I want a leap into the unknown. 🌌