One Hour with Hollow Knight: Feeling Lost from the Very First Steps

I started Hollow Knight with a habit I’ve carried for years. As soon as the game began, the first thing I did was remap the controls to match what I usually use in platformers like Mega Man. It’s almost automatic at this point. I thought I was preparing myself for a familiar kind of game, something that relies on timing and reflexes I already know.

It didn’t take long to realize Hollow Knight doesn’t work the way I expected.

The opening moments are quiet. There’s no long explanation, no clear tutorial telling me what to do next. I move forward, swing my nail at a few enemies, and they drop something. A number appears. I think it was four. I stare at it for a moment, trying to figure out what it represents. Is it money, points, or some kind of resource for later upgrades. The game doesn’t say. It doesn’t ask me to care either.

So I keep playing.

After a while, I enter an area with strange blue enemies that look almost like butterflies. When I hit them, I notice something odd. Two blue segments appear on my health bar. My first instinct is that I’ve been poisoned or hit by some kind of status effect. But my health isn’t going down. I stop moving for a second, watching the bar. Nothing happens.

I hit a few more enemies. The blue segments appear again, but there’s still no sign of damage over time. At that point, I don’t feel worried. Just confused. It feels like the game is showing me a mechanic, but refuses to explain what it actually means.

A bit later, I notice a white container linked to my abilities. After some trial and error, I realize I can use Focus to consume it and recover health. Even then, my understanding is vague. I don’t fully grasp why things work this way. I just know that they do.

As I continue, it becomes clear that Hollow Knight offers very little direct guidance. There are no arrows, no prompts telling me where to go next. I walk, jump, fight, and choose directions on my own, without any confirmation that I’m doing the right thing.

That’s when I really start to feel what the game is doing. It wants me to explore on my own. It never says this out loud, but the silence makes it obvious. If I want progress, I have to observe, experiment, and accept not knowing everything.

Eventually, I encounter an NPC related to the map. The game does have a map system, but it’s not what I’m used to. I learn that I can buy a map, and there’s a hint about purchasing a compass from the NPC’s wife. Even so, when I finally have the map, it doesn’t show my current position.

This is where the feeling of being lost really settles in.

I have a map in my hands, yet I still have to guess. I look at corridors and intersections, then glance back at the map, trying to figure out where I might be. I move through a few rooms, return, check the map again, and guess once more. There’s no small dot telling me “you are here.”

At that moment, I realize something important. Hollow Knight isn’t trying to be cruel. But it also isn’t trying to be comforting. It gives me tools, then steps back. If I want to understand them, the responsibility is mine.

I start to feel like this game is going to take time. Not because it’s mechanically overwhelming, but because it demands patience. It expects me to accept confusion as part of the experience.

During that first hour, I keep wondering if I’m doing something wrong. Maybe I’ve missed a key mechanic. Maybe I’m going the wrong way. The game never confirms or denies any of these thoughts. It simply lets me continue.

A few years ago, I probably would have closed the game and looked up a guide. This time, I don’t. Partly because I want to experience it on my own, and partly because I’m beginning to sense that this uncertainty is intentional.

In its first hour, Hollow Knight doesn’t welcome me in a familiar way. It doesn’t explain itself, reassure me, or hold my hand. Instead, it presents a world where understanding comes slowly, through personal discovery rather than instruction.

I can’t say whether I like the game or not after just one hour. What I do know is that Hollow Knight has made one thing very clear. This is an experience that asks for time. If I rush it, I probably won’t get very far.

That first hour passes slowly. But when I turn the game off, I’m sure of one thing. I want to come back. Not because I understand it, but because I don’t. And maybe that’s exactly what Hollow Knight wants.

After that first hour, I thought I understood the rhythm of Hollow Knight. A few hours later, the game quietly proved that I didn’t.

You can read about that moment here: The moment Hollow Knight forced me to slow down.