Chaos kills you in the most absurd way possible
In the long tradition of survival horror, Capcom's Resident Evil Requiem arrives as a rare thing: a franchise entry that seems to have genuinely listened to its own history. Previewed ahead of its February 2026 launch, the ninth installment weaves together two distinct philosophies of fear — the kinetic, darkly comic action of Leon S. Kennedy and the quiet, resource-starved dread of newcomer Grace Ashcroft — within a sanatorium that serves as both setting and symbol of the series' enduring obsession with humanity's capacity for self-destruction. What emerges from three hours of play is the suggestion that Capcom has not merely revisited its past, but found a way to let its contradictions coexist.
- A chainsaw dropped by a headshot zombie is immediately grabbed by another, setting the tone for a preview that is as gleefully absurd as it is genuinely terrifying.
- The dual-protagonist structure creates real tension: Leon's bombastic action sequences give way without warning to Grace's near-defenseless survival crawl through the same building, reframing every room as a new kind of threat.
- Intelligent zombie AI — creatures that hunt for light switches, retain fragments of their former identities, and mutate when downed — forces players to abandon routine and think tactically at every turn.
- A single glaring design gap, the inability to close doors behind the player, hints that the preview build is not yet finished, leaving a tactical layer frustratingly out of reach.
- Capcom's suggestion that the sanatorium represents only a fraction of the full game positions Requiem as something far larger than its preview implies, raising expectations considerably ahead of its February 27th release.
Three hours into Resident Evil Requiem's preview build, it becomes clear that Capcom has constructed something genuinely ambitious. Leon S. Kennedy opens the experience inside a sanatorium conducting unspeakable experiments, armed with a massive weapon called the Requiem and a hatchet. What follows is darkly comic and viscerally brutal in equal measure — a chainsaw dropped by a headshot zombie is picked up by another, leading to a chain of gory accidents that doubles as the most inventive sandbox gameplay moment in recent memory. Leon's corny one-liners, long a tonal liability for the series, somehow land with real charm here.
The game's defining innovation is its dual-protagonist structure. Leon's sections echo the combat-forward design of Resident Evil 4, while Grace Ashcroft — a new character handed the Requiem with a single bullet before the two are separated — inhabits the opposite end of the spectrum entirely. Her portions of the sanatorium unfold as methodical survival horror: keycards lock two main wings, a zombie chef mutters about his former work, a maid still wanders the halls attempting to clean, and certain zombies actively seek out light switches, sensitive to illumination in ways that suggest something larger at work biologically. Grace begins nearly defenseless, making stealth and a crafting system built around collected zombie blood essential to progress.
The sanatorium's design layers classic Resident Evil puzzle logic — nonsensical in the best possible way — over set pieces of genuine dread. Downed zombies can mutate into blister-headed threats reminiscent of the original remake's crimson heads, demanding careful resource decisions about when to spend expensive revival-preventing injections. The most terrifying encounter belongs to a grotesque, screaming creature that smashes through door frames in pursuit of Grace, arriving with the shock value that once defined Resident Evil Village.
One meaningful flaw surfaces: players cannot close doors behind them, a puzzling omission given how freely zombies roam. A dedicated dodge button also feels like an obvious absence. Yet these gaps barely diminish what the preview accomplishes. Capcom has indicated the sanatorium is only one portion of a substantially larger game, and Resident Evil Requiem launches February 27th, 2026, already carrying the weight of genuine expectation.
Three hours into Resident Evil Requiem, it becomes clear that Capcom has built something special. The game doesn't arrive until late February, but the preview build already suggests this ninth entry in the franchise will stand among the best the series has produced in decades.
The demo opens with Leon S. Kennedy investigating a sanatorium that is, as one might expect from a Resident Evil facility, conducting unspeakable experiments on human subjects. Leon arrives armed with a massive cannon called the Requiem and a hatchet, stepping into a tight corridor where nurses and doctors have begun their transformation into the undead. What unfolds is both darkly comic and brutally visceral. A chainsaw-wielding zombie drops its weapon as Leon lands a clean headshot, but the blade continues spinning on the floor. Other zombies, lacking any sense of self-preservation, grab the still-running chainsaw. One lurches toward Leon while another accidentally impales itself on the blade. The sequence ends with Leon skewered by the weapon protruding from a zombie's abdomen—a gory death that somehow manages to be the best example of sandbox gameplay the preview team has encountered in years. Leon himself delivers the kind of corny one-liners that Resident Evil has always struggled to balance in the modern era, but here they land with genuine charm.
The game's central innovation is its dual-protagonist structure. Leon's sections lean heavily into action, echoing the combat-focused design of Resident Evil 4. Grace Ashcroft, a new character introduced in an earlier preview, inhabits the opposite end of the spectrum. Her portions of the game return to the slower, more methodical survival horror of Resident Evil 2 and 7. After Leon hands Grace the Requiem with a single bullet remaining and the two are separated by closing gates, players shift into her perspective. The sanatorium's lobby becomes a puzzle box requiring careful exploration. Two main wings are locked behind keycards. A kitchen harbors a zombie chef who retains fragments of his former life, muttering to himself about his work. A former maid wanders the halls, still attempting to clean. Some zombies actively hunt for light switches, sensitive to illumination in ways that suggest a larger biological mechanism at work.
Grace begins almost defenseless, making stealth and resource management essential. The game introduces a crafting system built around collected zombie blood, with unique samples unlocked in a lab to create new ammunition and healing items. A stealth-kill device allows her to approach larger threats from behind, including the chef, who can absorb a direct hit from the Requiem but falls to a single backstab. His death yields a pendant conferring useful buffs. The most terrifying encounter comes from a grotesque, obese creature that smashes through door frames while chasing Grace, screaming profanities the entire time. It arrives with the kind of shock value that defined Resident Evil Village.
The sanatorium's design includes typically nonsensical Resident Evil puzzles—a phrase the preview team means as genuine praise—alongside set pieces that force players into triggering catastrophic events. A tense garage sequence and an operating table encounter where organs must be reattached create moments of dread and inevitability. Downed zombies present a particular threat, capable of mutating into blister heads similar to the crimson heads from the original game's remake. Kneecapping them and targeting their heads becomes the most reliable approach, though expensive injections can prevent revival entirely.
Leon's second section, brief at roughly twenty minutes, pits him against Dr. Gideon in conversation before a mini-boss encounter with one of the blubber monsters in a fenced arena. The final gauntlet is a room filled with blister heads, where a large blood-covered axe sits on the floor—presumably abandoned by a doctor attempting to defend the facility. Hatchet swings and shotgun blasts create controlled chaos.
The preview team encountered only one meaningful flaw: doors cannot be closed behind the player, a puzzling omission given that zombies wander freely and the ability to cut off line of sight would add genuine tactical depth. A dedicated dodge button also seems like an obvious addition, particularly given that the Resident Evil 4 remake included one. Yet these minor oversights barely register against what the demo accomplishes. The sanatorium appears to be only one section of a much larger game, with Capcom hinting that substantial content exists elsewhere. Resident Evil Requiem launches February 27th, 2026, and based on what's been shown, it's positioned to be one of the generation's defining entries.
Citas Notables
The sequence ended with Leon's gory death, but it was the best bit of sandbox gameplay we've seen in an action game for many years— GameCentral preview team
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
What made the opening sequence with the chainsaw zombie feel different from typical Resident Evil combat?
It wasn't designed as a puzzle with a correct answer. Leon had a gun and a hatchet, the space was cramped, and zombies were everywhere. The chainsaw dropped, stayed spinning, and other zombies just grabbed it without thinking. That's when the sandbox opened up—you're reacting to what's actually happening, not executing a predetermined solution.
So the game is rewarding improvisation over preparation?
Exactly. You can't plan for a zombie to accidentally impale itself on a weapon another zombie is holding. You're managing chaos in real time, and sometimes that chaos kills you in the most absurd way possible.
How does Grace's experience differ from Leon's?
She's essentially playing a different game. Leon has firepower and mobility. Grace starts with almost nothing, so she's creeping through corridors, listening for footsteps, deciding whether to stealth-kill the chef or avoid him entirely. The tension comes from scarcity, not firepower.
The blood crafting system—does it feel like busywork or integral to survival?
It matters because ammunition is genuinely scarce. You're collecting blood samples not because the game tells you to, but because you need healing items and special ammo to survive what's coming. It's resource management with teeth.
What about the zombies that retain memories of their old lives?
That's the unsettling part. The chef muttering about his work, the maid cleaning toilets—they're not just obstacles. They're people trapped in their own bodies, still performing their routines. It makes killing them feel heavier than usual.
Do you think the game will sustain this quality across the full experience?
The sanatorium is apparently just the beginning. If Capcom can maintain this balance between Leon's action and Grace's survival horror across multiple locations, this could genuinely be special.