You don’t drop into Marathon expecting mercy. You drop in expecting silence—broken only by the scrape of boots on alien metal and the echo of your own breath inside a suit that feels one size too tight. Every run is a gamble. Every corridor feels like a question you aren’t ready to answer.

In Marathon, you’re not the hero. You’re a runner—hungry, ambitious, expendable. Extraction isn’t guaranteed. Survival is never promised. What you carry out is what you earn.

First taste? Yeah, it bites back

A quick disclaimer: Marathon is my first extraction shooter. I’ve spent plenty of time with first- and third-person hero shooters, so I’m not new to the “shooter with abilities” formula—but this is a different beast entirely.

My first few runs were brutal. Extraction shooters introduce a level of tension I wasn’t prepared for. Losing everything on death raises the stakes in a way few other genres do. Fighting UESC bots alone is already challenging—their AI is surprisingly aggressive and reactive—but once you factor in other players who will shoot you on sight, the experience quickly becomes overwhelming.

First run, first lesson: Nothing is yours

My first deployment was on Perimeter with two random teammates. We spawned near the Hauler, a massive land vehicle on the west side of the map. Not knowing what we were getting into, we went inside—only to find it packed with UESC bots.

Our team’s Destroyer, the tank of the group, went down first, though not without taking a few enemies with him. As the Triage—Marathon’s support/healer role—it fell on me to revive him. I managed to clear the remaining bots, but burned through all my ammo and consumables in the process.

My reboot ability, which allows for ranged revives, wasn’t ready yet, so I attempted a manual revive. That’s when a UESC ghost appeared out of nowhere and dropped me in two shots from behind.

With both of us down—reduced to loot bags—it was up to our Assassin, who had been lurking nearby. He popped a smoke screen, revived me first, and dropped a couple of patch kits. I immediately used my reboot ability on the Destroyer, grabbed a kit, and deployed my healing drone. Somehow, we stabilized.

We cleared the Hauler, looted better gear, and decided to extract early. But on the way to exfil, another team ambushed us. The fight wasn’t even close—we were wiped instantly.

Then came that dreaded screen: elimination, along with a breakdown of everything we’d just lost.

That moment defined Marathon for me.

The game doesn’t need to cheat—you’ll die anyway

The UESC bots are no joke. Some strafe and dodge gunfire, others rush you down with melee attacks, and some will snipe you from rooftops with lethal precision. There are grenadiers that bombard you relentlessly, shielded elites that soak damage, and ghosts that move quickly and unpredictably.

Each map also features a Warden boss—something you absolutely shouldn’t underestimate. I learned that the hard way.

Beyond bots, there are additional threats like Ticks, turrets, and drones. Environmental hazards are just as dangerous: toxin plants, explosive claymores, heat cascades, and frost rooms can all end a run if you’re careless.

Loud, neon, and unapologetically weird

As a fan of cyberpunk and utilitarian sci-fi, I love Marathon’s visual style. It won’t appeal to everyone, but it’s undeniably distinct.

Where many shooters lean into muted palettes and desolate landscapes, Marathon goes in the opposite direction—bold, high-contrast visuals with rich neon tones. It’s a risky choice, but it pays off. The aesthetic not only stands out but also reinforces the game’s tone and identity.

If you’re not listening, you’re already dead

The audio design is one of Marathon’s strongest elements. The soundtrack is filled with high-energy tracks that heighten tension, and subtle shifts in music often signal danger before you even see it.

Sound cues are everything here. Sprinting produces loud, unmistakable footsteps. Even walking can give you away if you’re not careful. Crouch-walking is quieter, but not silent—nearby players can still hear you.

Everything makes noise. Opening containers, interacting with objects, even doors—especially doors. The larger they are, the louder they sound. I’ve never paid this much attention to audio in a shooter before, and Marathon trains you to listen or die.

The guns? Yeah, they carry this game

Gunplay is easily the highlight of the experience.

At launch, Marathon features 28 weapons across eight categories, covering everything from close-quarters combat to long-range engagements. Standouts include the M77 Assault Rifle, V75 Scar, Bully SMG, V22 Volt Thrower, Demolition LMG, WSTR Combat Shotgun, Longshot sniper, Ares RG Railgun, and the V11 Punch pistol.

Weapons can be heavily customized with mods and attachments that don’t just tweak stats—they fundamentally change how guns behave. Putting a stack overflow mod chip on a WSTR Combat Shotgun suddenly gives you four bullets instead of two. Unique gold mods like the Overcharge Lens for the V22 Volt Thrower turn the SMG into Halo’s Needler.

The result is a system that rewards experimentation and mastery. PvP encounters feel incredibly satisfying once you get the hang of it—landing headshots, timing abilities, and outplaying opponents creates moments that keep you coming back.

Great style, messy menus

Visually, the UI aligns well with the game’s aesthetic. The UX, however, needs improvement.

Inventory management can be frustrating. Many items look nearly identical, and mods often differ only slightly in appearance. You’re forced to hover over items and read tooltips to distinguish them—something that feels at odds with the game’s fast-paced, high-risk nature.

In a game where every second matters, clarity is crucial. I’ve lost runs simply because I was stuck comparing item tooltips mid-loot.

Additionally, some font choices feel inconsistent and occasionally jarring, which further impacts readability.

It punishes you—and that’s the point

Marathon is not a game that welcomes you—it tests you. It punishes hesitation, rewards awareness, and demands that you learn quickly or lose everything.

As a first-time extraction shooter player, the experience was overwhelming at first, even frustrating. But beneath that harsh learning curve is something deeply compelling. The tension of every run, the satisfaction of a successful extraction, and the adrenaline of unpredictable encounters create a loop that’s hard to walk away from.

Its strengths are clear: tight, satisfying gunplay, exceptional audio design, and a bold visual identity that sets it apart from its peers. At the same time, it isn’t without flaws. The UI/UX friction, particularly around inventory management, can actively work against the player in critical moments.

But maybe that friction is part of what defines Marathon. It’s not just about surviving the map—it’s about managing risk, making fast decisions, and accepting that sometimes, you’ll lose it all anyway.

And yet, you queue up again.

Not because it’s forgiving—but because it isn’t.