Power Stone

Power Stone grabbed me before the first punch was thrown, and that is not something every fighting game can do. Most fighters want to show me muscles, fireballs, tournament brackets and some guy in a sleeveless shirt yelling about destiny. Capcom went another direction. They raided the late 1800s, stole the good stuff from pulp adventure books, tossed in flying carpets, lost cities, Red Baron energy, mummies, samurai armor, giant totems and a wish-granting stone, then built a fighting game around everybody trying to beat the tar out of each other for it.

That is my kind of stupid.

Power Stone takes place in that weird and wonderful stretch of history where the world felt like it was being cracked open. Flight was coming. Electricity was spreading. Archaeology was digging up old tombs and scaring people half to death with curses. Writers were dreaming up submarines, moon trips, robots, time machines and monsters that had no business existing. Capcom clearly dipped into that same bucket. This game feels like a stack of adventure novels exploded inside an arcade cabinet.

The setup is simple. There is a legendary Power Stone, and whoever gets it can have any wish granted. Naturally, every lunatic on earth wants the thing, so they start fighting over it. That part is not deep, but it works because the cast sells it. Falcon is the aviator hero, all Rocketeer shine and flying ace confidence once he transforms. Rouge brings the Arabian Nights angle with fire, genie style power and a flying carpet entrance. Wangtang is the Monkey King filtered through Dragon Ball Z energy, complete with that wild super-powered transformation that screams anime before it punches you in the head.

Galuda is huge, and when I say huge, I mean he looks like he could throw the entire stage at you if the game would let him. His Power Stone form turns him into a walking totem, which I cannot look at without thinking wooden Optimus Prime. Ryoma is the samurai, because apparently fighting games are not legally allowed to exist without at least one Japanese swordsman. He is also one of the smartest fighters in the cast because he brings an actual weapon to a fight where everyone else is scrambling for chairs and bombs like idiots.

Then there is Jack, who is basically Jack the Ripper if Jack the Ripper fell into a mummy movie and came out moving like a ninja. Ayame looks harmless until she starts bouncing around the arena and throwing a shuriken the size of a wagon wheel. Gunrock is a massive bruiser who can smash you into a corner and make you regret ever touching the controller. None of these characters are subtle. Good. Subtle would ruin this.

The fighting itself is chaos in the best way. Power Stone is not a clean, polite, footsies-and-frame-counts fighter. It is a 3D brawl where weapons are lying everywhere and every round feels like someone kicked over a toy box. Tables, barrels, guns, swords, bombs, whatever you can grab becomes part of the fight. You are not just watching your opponent, you are watching the whole stage because the next stupid object to ruin your life is probably sitting two feet away.

The Power Stone mechanic is what keeps the whole mess from being just random noise. Grab three stones and your character transforms into a ridiculous super version of themselves. The pace changes instantly. Suddenly the guy who was running away from you starts glowing, flying, firing arrows, throwing giant shuriken or ripping through the arena like a machine. These moments are completely over the top, and they should be. If you are going to build a game around magic wish rocks, do not get shy when somebody finally collects them.

The controls take time. They feel frantic at first, and I did spend a few early fights feeling like the game had grabbed me by the shirt and dragged me around the room. Once it clicks, that same looseness becomes part of the appeal. Power Stone is fast, messy and physical. It is not trying to be Street Fighter III. It is trying to make you yell when somebody nails you with a chair, steals your stone and turns into a flying death machine.

The extra modes and mini-games help too. This is one of those Dreamcast games that understands the home version needs more than an arcade ladder. The basic fighting is strong enough on its own, but the extras give you a reason to keep poking around after the initial rush wears off.

Power Stone is not perfect because perfect would be too clean for what this is. It is hectic. It is loud. It is a little hard to control until your brain catches up. But the style, the transformations, the cast and the sheer joy of smashing somebody with whatever junk is sitting nearby make it one of the most entertaining fighters Capcom has put out in years. If this is what fighting games look like when Capcom gets bored of the usual rules, then somebody needs to bore them more often.