I've been roaming the streets of Night City since 2020, and in 2026, I still can't shake the feeling that Cyberpunk 2077: Phantom Liberty's opening is a masterclass in how not to introduce a new district. Don't get me wrong—I love this game. After hundreds of hours, multiple playthroughs, and every patch from 1.0 to whatever we're on now (2.3? 2.5?), I'm a believer. But when I fired up Phantom Liberty again last week to see how it holds up in 2026, I was reminded of the same frustration I had back in 2023. The expansion is desperate to show you what it has become. A little too desperate. 🎮
The first two hours are a curated, on-rails experience that feels like CD Projekt Red is terrified you might wander off and find something weird. And weird is exactly what Cyberpunk does best. Remember the sentient vending machine? The crucifixion braindance? The talking gun? That's the punk in cyberpunk. Phantom Liberty's opening, however, is all spectacle and no soul.
You start by meeting Songbird, get a new skill tree (Relic points, anyone?), and then sneak into a dark warehouse. And you stay in that warehouse for way too long. There's some clunky first-person platforming—because nothing says "cyberpunk" like jumping puzzles in a dark room—then light combat, and finally you emerge into Dogtown. The market area is genuinely great: grungy, full of personality, channeling Blade Runner better than the base game ever did. I even bought a purple fur coat, just like Mariette in 2049. But just as I'm ready to explore...
Nope. Back on the leash. You're funneled down a linear road to a big combat arena, then a smaller one, then a stealth section that inevitably goes wrong if you didn't spec into hacking, then another combat arena. Vehicle combat gets introduced with zero tutorial and zero point—you can just outrun enemies and lose them automatically. More combat. A boss fight. Then you're still crawling through corridors while the game refuses to let you breathe. 😤
It's exhausting. And it's a shame because once you're finally free, Phantom Liberty shines. The eccentric side stories, the new gigs, the visual storytelling—it's all there. But the main missions are so risk-averse that they smother the expansion's personality for the first two hours.
I've put together a quick breakdown of the opening's pacing problems:
| Section | Duration | Issue |
|---|---|---|
| Warehouse infiltration | ~30 min | Too long, boring platforming |
| Dogtown market | ~10 min | Great, but fleeting |
| Linear combat gauntlet | ~45 min | Repetitive, no agency |
| Vehicle combat | ~5 min | Pointless, no tutorial |
| Boss fight + corridors | ~30 min | Overstays welcome |
In 2026, with all the updates, the game runs smoother, looks prettier, and the skill trees are more balanced. But the fundamental design of Phantom Liberty's opening hasn't changed. It's still a hand-holding, risk-averse tutorial that treats players like they can't handle a little chaos. 🤔
Compare that to the base game's intro. Yes, the Jackie montage was rushed, but at least it had heart. And once you got past the heist, the world opened up and let you find your own stories. Phantom Liberty eventually does that too, but it takes two hours to get there. Two hours of explosions, linear corridors, and empty spectacle.
I get it. CDPR wanted to win back fans. They wanted to show off Dogtown, the new weapons, the Relic skill tree. But by frontloading the expansion with so much scripted action, they forgot what made Cyberpunk 2077 special: the quiet, weird, human moments. The game is at its best when you're sitting in a diner with a fixer, or helping a joytoy find her friend, or just walking through the rain listening to the synthwave.
So here's my advice for 2026: push through the opening. It's worth it. Once you're let off the leash, Dogtown is a fantastic playground. But it's disappointing that CDPR still feels the need to hold our hands so tightly. Cyberpunk 2077 was a bad game at launch, and it recovered to become a good one. Phantom Liberty was the chance to push beyond good, to be great. But with an opening this risk-averse, I fear it falls short of greatness. 💥
Maybe in 2027, with the next-gen update (or whatever comes next), they'll finally learn. Until then, I'll be here, wandering Dogtown, looking for the next weird story. And avoiding dark warehouses.
One last thing: the expansion's opening isn't all bad. The voice acting is superb, the new district is visually stunning, and the Relic skill tree adds some genuinely fun build variety. But those highs come after you've endured the hand-holding. In a year where we're drowning in open-world games that respect our time, Phantom Liberty's opening feels like a relic of a bygone era. A polished, well-acted, beautifully rendered relic—but a relic nonetheless. 🏙️
So, if you're jumping into Phantom Liberty for the first time in 2026, just know: the first two hours are a slog. But Dogtown is worth it. Just don't expect the game to trust you until it's good and ready.