As a seasoned Tarnished who has braved the Lands Between and scaled the Jagged Peak, I find myself in 2026 reflecting on the seismic shift in how we, the players, experience FromSoftware's creations. The studio, once a revered but niche developer, now operates on a global stage where every potential project is dissected by millions. The question on everyone's lips is: what comes after the colossal success of Elden Ring? While the allure of another vast open world is undeniable, the whispers of a return to a more focused, linear Soulslike experience—akin to the hallowed corridors of Bloodborne or the interconnected despair of Lordran—grow louder. Yet, the true legacy of Elden Ring and its Shadow of the Erdtree expansion isn't just its scale; it's a masterclass in narrative pacing and boss anticipation, a lesson that could transform the very DNA of a future linear adventure.

FromSoftware has always been a studio of contrasts, but Elden Ring taught them how to conduct an orchestra of expectation. In a linear game, the world is a carefully tuned instrument, not a sprawling symphony. Systems like the vast crafting of the Lands Between would feel as out of place as a merchant's cart in a cathedral aisle—cumbersome and restrictive. The illustrative overworld map, a lifeline in the open fields, would be rendered obsolete. However, what can and must make the transition is the studio's newfound genius for the long con of boss introduction. This isn't about random encounters behind fog walls; it's about crafting a journey where the destination is foretold in whispers, landscapes, and dread.

Nowhere was this more evident than with Bayle the Dread. His introduction was not an event; it was an atmosphere.

Long before I ever gripped my weapon on the slopes of the Jagged Peak, Bayle's name was a rumor that clung to the air like sulfurous fog. NPCs spoke of him with a reverence reserved for natural disasters. The mountain itself, a pale, jagged fang piercing the sky of the Land of Shadow, served as a constant, ominous landmark—a promise of a trial to come. The trek to his arena was a pilgrimage through a dragon's graveyard, each scaled corpse a silent testament to the power waiting above. By the time I reached the craterous summit, the anticipation had been woven into the very fabric of my journey. It was a feeling akin to a deep-sea diver slowly descending towards a leviathan's lair, where every meter of pressure builds not just around you, but within you.

This orchestrated hype served multiple purposes:

• Narrative Weight: It transformed Bayle from a mere enemy into a legendary force of nature, a living part of the world's lore.

• Emotional Investment: The journey itself became meaningful. It wasn't just about reaching a boss door; it was about undertaking a quest to confront a known terror.

• Cinematic Payoff: Bringing the NPC Igon along for the fight felt like the climax of a shared saga, his vengeful shouts against the "foul, bulky dragon" turning the battle into a mythic tableau.

Of course, this approach is a double-edged sword, sharpened by player expectation. For some, Bayle's actual combat mechanics might not have lived up to the mythic stature he was afforded. A buildup that grand, if not met with a commensurate challenge or spectacle, can leave a player feeling like they've been led on a solemn march only to find a gilded cage empty. The hype must be earned, or the journey feels like a beautifully wrapped box containing a single, dull stone.

Yet, FromSoftware has not forgotten its roots in sudden, visceral horror. For every Bayle, there is a Messmer the Impaler. His reveal was a masterstroke of subversion. Tucked behind an unassuming door in a forgotten corner of the Shadow Keep—a door I expected to lead to a storage room or a dead end—was the expansion's poster villain. The shock was electric, a jump-scare on a narrative level. It was a reminder that the studio's ability to ambush the player with awe remains a potent, thrilling tool.

So, what does this mean for a potential linear Soulslike in 2026? It means the studio has a new palette to paint with. The community will always generate its own lore and hype, but FromSoftware can now direct that energy.

Imagine a Gothic city, not unlike Yharnam, where the streets whisper of a beast cloaked in church bells, its location hinted at by the progressive silencing of chimes across districts. Or a cursed kingdom where the path to the final king is paved with the petrified forms of those who failed to usurp him, each statue a checkpoint in a history of failure. The linear format allows this anticipation to be layered with the precision of a watchmaker, each tick of the clock bringing you closer to a confrontation you've been mentally preparing for since the title screen.

The boss run-back, often a point of frustration, could be reimagined. Instead of a gauntlet of enemies, it could be a solemn, empty path back to a foe whose name you now know, the silence more punishing than any arrow trap. In this context, a boss like Bloodborne's Orphan of Kos wouldn't just be a shocking, tragic figure found on a lonely shore; the entire Fishing Hamlet's sorrow and the lore of the Healing Church's atrocities could be threaded directly into the player's path, making the encounter feel like an inevitable, dreadful reckoning with history.

In essence, the lesson from Elden Ring is not about transplanting mechanics, but about orchestrating feeling. A future linear Soulslike wouldn't be a step back; it would be a refinement, a distillation of atmosphere where every corridor, every item description, and every distant echo is a note in a symphony that crescendos at the boss gate. FromSoftware has learned how to make the hunt as memorable as the kill, transforming the space between battles from mere traversal into a narrative tightrope, stretched taut with anticipation. The studio's next act, whether in an open field or a narrow catacomb, will be composed by masters who now understand that sometimes, the most powerful weapon in a game isn't a sword or a spell—it's a well-placed whisper, echoing long before the fight begins.