The Carnival Draws to a Close: Reflections on Wuthering Waves 2.7 and the End of the Rinascita Saga

Our journey is not yet over.

Many players like to call Wuthering Waves a “cutting-edge game.” As someone who first boarded this journey in version 1.0, I think that phrase reflects how deeply we’ve come to value its quality—especially ever since 2.0 ushered in the “Rinascita” saga. With each update, Wuthering Waves has moved into new emotional territory: the fateful meeting with Carlotta, witnessing Cartethyia’s budding strength amid adversity, sharing journeys with Luno… each story arc has swept me away, unwilling to return to reality.

Now, in version 2.7, Wuthering Waves brings the Rinascita stage to its final act. If someone asked me now, “What kind of game is Wuthering Waves?” I would say: it is a game that continues to give me surprises. I love those surprises it brings.

Version updates always carry the risk of redundancy or stagnation. But Wuthering Waves has rarely repeated itself; each new version offers a distinct surprise, like an unending carnival linking players’ expectations to the game’s unfolding. As one participant, I delight in every new offering and yet yearn for the next.

What We “Expect” from the Story

Personally, I gravitate toward games where narrative and visual performance are front and center, so I always keep a close eye on how Wuthering Waves handles its storytelling. Unquestionably, the game’s ongoing efforts to innovate in narrative performance—by blending cinematic sequences, gameplay interaction, and refined writing—have steadily deepened the immersive experience. In version 2.7, it is no exception.

As the name "Dawn Breaks on Dark Tides" suggests, 2.7 marks the concluding chapter for the Rinascita saga. At this climax, the version expands the scale of storytelling—enhancing scene transitions and increasing the number of primary characters participating in the plot, unveiling the grandest narrative yet since version 2.0.

Often, game development is constrained by tight production schedules. Even if the story world is broad, the practical in-game experience can only present so much. Yet the team behind Wuthering Waves refuses to use that as an excuse. This time, they strive to deliver both spectacle and emotional resonance. The Leviathan of the “Threnodian” repeatedly foiled in past plots, now launches its most formidable assault; the Dark Tide and Remnant Force sweep across Rinascita’s territories, making Septimont and Ragunna critical battlegrounds.

As anomalies erupt across regions and the Rover intervenes, players must traverse disaster zones. Version 2.7 introduces more varied movement and transition mechanics to make scene changes richer, and smooth out narrative pacing. In one moment, the player must dash through a shrinking exit before it seals shut, all while music surges and meteors crash—these theatrical elements, I believe, dramatically heighten immersion.

Even a mere change of scenery interweaves world traversal, dialogue, and battle performance in seamless narrative flow—an elegant, measured dance of tension and release. And that is but one microcosm among many in 2.7.

This reflects a design philosophy constant since 2.0:
— The “Soaring” function in 2.0 revolutionized visuals, giving players freedom to embrace spectacular sightlines.
— The gravity-inversion mechanic in 2.2 invited players to experience maps like Avinoleum from inverted perspectives.
— In version 2.6, the “Hand-in-Hand” system provided a deeply emotional connection when Luno’s warm hand reached out—it pierced the screen and touched my heart.

In 2.7, the scene transitions evolve again. Not only do they blend exploration, cutscenes, and battle, but even 2D and 3D performances merge. It becomes a “narrative magic trick.” This is fully realized in the chapter exploring the “Journeying Paradise” after entering the Dark Tide: light and shadow shift instantaneously; eerie whispers entwine with fabricated beauty; massive architecture alternates between sacred radiance and ominous wandering. It feels like walking the line between waking and dreaming—a sensory labyrinth that left me reeling.

Moreover, the first-person “parkour combat” perspective in Galbrena’s segments also struck me as refreshingly novel. Though this point of view was used earlier (for instance, in 2.0 tracking Phrolova and in 2.5 memory sequences) it was mostly limited to occasional scenes to enhance immersion. Now it becomes a core gameplay mode—Galbrena leaps, pursues Remnants, navigates a world of light and dark, and indulges in the brutal grace of gunplay. The visceral thrill of a powerful kick followed by gunfire feels irreducibly—joyous.

Also notable is how 2.7 elevates narrative in 2D illustration. By weaving in interactive elements, cutscenes are no longer passive to watch—they invite the player into storytelling. Just as Imperator once guided Rinascita’s people through the screen to build civilizations, here the narrative pulls you in. It’s akin to opening a three-dimensional storybook and witnessing those towering wonders—new and wondrous.

Where Emotion Resounds

Beyond evolving narrative forms, 2.7 deeply moved me in how it strengthens emotional bonds between characters. The Leviathan’s invasion and players’ struggles bring more principal characters into the plot than ever before. When Septimont and the Rover defend, their lines fall; at the brink of collapse, the familiar blue teleportation array pulses. Raguna’s allies emerge from the gate. In that moment, the weight of loyalty and friendship crystallizes—an impact far greater than words.

Over time, the trust and emotional ties built since version 2.0 become the force that breaks through adversity.
— The Black Shores mobilizes forces, supplying intelligence and reinforcements.
— The Montelli family (led by Carlotta) shelter civilians and fight the Remnant using “sonic bones.”
— The Fisalia family (through Cantarella) offers spiritual resistance and methods to shield against mental corruption.
— The Free Bard Ciaccona Toccata and the Fool’s Troupe, among others, lend support to the warfront.

When I see the Fool’s Troupe jesting even as they assist, I feel the warmth of meeting old friends. In that moment, whether devout Septimont residents or fearless Septimont skeptics, all stand united in crisis. That crossing of race, friendship, and time—that resonance—is perhaps why I love Wuthering Waves’ storytelling.

The final showdown is the most extravagant, emotional performance yet: dialogue and synchronized actions converge to explode every player’s heart. Words falter before such spectacle; this climax truly deserves to be experienced firsthand.

Weaving together so many characters, scenes, and plotlines without jarring dissonance is no small feat for the writing team—especially after years of raised expectations since version 2.0. I admit I wondered whether Wuthering Waves might stumble near its conclusion. But in 2.7, they delivered far beyond my fears.

All my doubts proved needless.

What We “Hope” for in the Future

For any long-term update game, a single “grand finale” is easy—but players’ expectations never stay so simple. After familiarity with update rhythms, long quests and daily tasks can dull enthusiasm.

Wuthering Waves in 2.7 is not just a momentary high point. Since 2.0, the title has never ceased innovating in content and gameplay:
Raguna’s festival cityscape brings a style starkly different from Jinzhou; music echoes richly; new experiences await at every turn.

Whether it’s soaring through cliffs and shores, savoring the freedom of flight, crossing paths with stirring or melancholic stories—we’ve witnessed the spectacle of 2.0’s combat, the touching narrative of 2.2’s saint, the weave of reality and fiction in 2.4, the dream-like journey of 2.5, and the rewriting of prophecy in 2.6. Anchored by memory, the moonlight dissolved in the Dark Tide returns. All these moments compose our irreplaceable Wuthering Waves memories.

Even with stumbles, Wuthering Waves has never ceased striving. Better narrative, richer world ecology, more convenient optimizations and lighter progression—completing feedback surveys for every version has become a habit for me. Honestly, I rarely bother with such feedback, but Wuthering Waves convinced me those suggestions truly matter.

Looking back on the journey we’ve shared, maybe it’s not perfect—but “surprise” remains the greatest reason I keep coming back. Surprise: Carlotta’s second combo; Cartethyia’s dual-form kit; Augusta and Luno in lunar alignment; the fiery footprints Galbrena raises in transformation—across every dimension of character design, Wuthering Waves has innovated with sincerity.

Because I have witnessed such dedication, I look forward to future Wuthering Waves updates: more compelling narrative, more intriguing event gameplay like Glory Hill and Sea-Erode Simulation, more breathtaking world ecology, and yet more surprises to astonish me.

I increasingly believe that after so many wonderful experiences, Wuthering Waves will still astonish me in the near future. After all, as many say, “the most fun version of Wuthering Waves is always the next one.”