If it’s Wrestlemania season, that means it’s also time for a new WWE 2K game. Over the last few years, this series has been on its most impressive run to date, and WWE 2K26 is a solid enough next chapter in that story. I don’t regret the time I’ve spent running the ropes in this year’s ring, but with another milquetoast Showcase mode and the growing tendrils of monetization wrapping itself around the experience like an anaconda vise, it’s starting to feel like the golden age for 2K wrestling games might be coming to an end.
2K26 hasn’t learned many new moves since last year, mostly just tweaking existing base mechanics. The biggest slam to the system is an adjustment to stamina, adding a condition called “winded” to superstars who run out. While winded, your stamina wheel turns from yellow to purple, and you can no longer run or use reversals until it empties and goes back to normal. This adds more risk-reward to all of the offensive and defensive actions you do in the ring that cost stamina.
What we said about WWE 2K25
A couple of microtransaction-fueled missteps aside, WWE 2K25 is really the best wrestling game since… WWE 2K24, which was also pretty great. It looks fantastic, still feels good, and there’s a lot of it, including small but welcome updates like intergender matches or bigger updates like the new MyRise and Showcase modes. It’s an upscale wrestling buffet, if you will: It’s pretty scrumptious, there’s a wide selection of dishes on the table, and you could spend an awful lot of time in the squared circle if you’re not careful. Speaking of, I need to get back to it. I have some more Showcase things to unlock, Universe is calling my name, and… well, you get the idea. – Will Borger, March 13, 2025
Score: 8
Read the full WWE 2K25 review.
It also creates a solution to the 2K series issue of how powerful the reversal system is (you are basically unstoppable if you’ve become the Tribal Chief of pressing one button on time, every time) by making it cost stamina to do and penalizing you for running your stamina into the red. However, it doesn’t address the problem of how the reversal prompts are unintuitive and sometimes at unpredictable points during a move’s animation, making picking the system up feel impossible without hours of ring time and muscle memory development. It also creates a new issue that penalizes players for getting good at the janky system in the first place. To play around this, you might opt to go for pins or submissions you normally wouldn’t attempt in order to wait the debuff out. That is an interesting way to make matches mimic the real life pace of TV wrestling, but does feel like a violation of the aggressive spirit of a wrestling game. You win some, you lose some, I guess.
Other adjustments are nice to have but don’t change the flow or feel of matches significantly. Harkening back to the series’ pre-Visual Concepts days, collision physics have been changed slightly, so throws and bumps are less trapped in canned animation sequences and interact with objects around them. A body suplexed into the ropes will actually bounce off in a more appropriately reactive way instead of attempting to clip through them. Throw an opponent onto the ring stairs, and they’ll properly crunch around their hulking metal block. This doesn’t have any obvious mechanical advantages, you don’t do noticeably more damage to opponents if you drop them on a chair vs the mat. But it is entertaining and enhances the slapstick nature already inherent in any given match to sometimes Looney Tunes levels.
Some adjustments are nice, but don’t change the flow of matches significantly.
Another blast from the past are the additional match types added in 2K26: I Quit, Dumpster, Inferno, and Three Stages of Hell. That last one is essentially a gauntlet where you choose three different match stipulations and wrestle through them, two-out-of-three falls style. The Dumpster match is functionally no different than the Casket or Ambulance matches, where you have to weaken opponents enough to shove them in a box they don’t want to be in. The Inferno match returns from the Smackdown vs Raw series with a more straight forward play path: Doing moves increases the temperature gauge, and once it’s at max, you must expose the enemy to the flames to win. This was cool, but also isn’t that special once the new car smell has burned away.
I Quit is arguably the best of these new options, basically elaborating on the submission match, but instead of the normal mashing minigame, players that are being forced to say I Quit must pass a series of checks hitting the right spots on a gauge enough times to continue on. These spots get smaller as you take more damage, and opponents can add blockers to make the task that much harder, which they can earn the same way they earn finishers. This is a really clever idea, just complex enough to be engaging and tactical without being too much to deal with.
This year’s Showcase, themed around the highlights and lowlights of CM Punk’s two-pronged WWE career, was a disappointment. It suffers from most of the same problems that these modes always have, like the gaping holes in history that it has to ignore for corporate reasons, or the awkward ways it tries and fails to recreate major moments in real matches as gameplay moments. The former is a problem not just because of wrestler contract woes – Bryan Danielson won’t be on the playlist since he’s with a rival company these days – but also its wholesale refusal to engage at all with why CM Punk left WWE for over a decade. I’m sure it’s a legal minefield and also a bit of a bummer to discuss some of those details for all parties involved, but they make no real attempt to address it at all, and it feels a little insulting to the intelligence after a while. There’s also no mention of CM Punk’s most infamous/influential moment, when he went off script during the now legendary “Pipe Bomb” promo, which seems like the kind of oversight that’s punishable by going one on one with The Undertaker.
The 10+ year gap he’s had in his career is already a spectre that really haunts this mode, as it makes the pickings for memorable moments to relive slim. They try to address this with a little kayfabe, Punk engaging in a metanarrative between matches to use the “Slingshot Technology” that Showcase employs to meld matches and real footage as a sort of time machine. That allows him to both undo some losses in his own career, embody Bret Hart to prevent the Montreal Screwjob, and indulge himself in a bunch of “what if” dream matches. These make up half of the Showcase and definitely feel more like busy work than cool experiences, even though they are right in line with the toybox nature of wrestling games to begin with.
Showcase suffers from most of the same problems these modes always have.
This year’s MyRise follows The Archetype, a former top star returning from a long layoff to try to get their groove back. It’s an more streamlined story overall, with fewer big beats across its six chapters but some more consequential decisions to make in each, usually to change your alignment from heroic fan favorite to callous villain (and possibly back again). The plot of The Archetype’s journey has the kinds of twists and turns you might expect from a main character on any given stretch of episodes of the TV shows, filled with overcoming impossible odds, having victory snatched from you though dastardly betrayals, and so on. The writing and voice acting throughout is consistent for the series, which is to say largely mediocre but not offensively so.
Though it’s shorter than past MyRise’s, grinding largely meaningless matches to get from plot point to plot point still feels like wasted time. The process is more transparent than last year, now instead of just doing a bunch of matches until they say you can move on, you have a goal to earn 12 stars in however many matches it takes you to do so (you can earn up to five per match). These help build your attribute points to make your superstar stronger, but no good story-based attempt is made to make these matches feel like anything other than homework. Speaking of story, the adherence to the regular WWE storytelling formula is nice but I really missed the weird and silly stuff I often associated with this mode. Last year’s game featured resident wrestling jester R-Truth unlocking the secrets of traveling the multiverse. In games passed, your wrestler might have a whole side quest based around finding a cursed amulet that gave you wrestling demon powers.
These sorts of things seem relegated to The Island, the weird, Street Fighter World Tour-esque multiplayer hub world that lets players create their own wrestlers and participate in open world RPG-style quests while also competing with each other on leaderboards, which is at least a more coherent game mode out of the gate this time. It embraces and builds on the fantastical nature of last year’s version, leaning into mysterious powers of The Island of Relevancy, now being divided up by three different factions all fighting to gain its magical powers. This sort of pro wrestling RPG nonsense is something that I would be all over on paper, but the original Island’s poor writing and janky pacing put me off.
This year makes an attempt to address that. Having a better map to navigate and being fully voiced are steps in the right direction, but the stories being told are just as bad and boring. Your characters start with minimal cosmetic options and way more stats to manage than in any other mode, all because of the profit incentive inherent in this mode, which requires you to spend a lot of time grinding in-game experience to unlock options or level up while also enticing you to tap out and just buy yourself a shortcut with real money. You could ignore the cosmetics, sure, but if you want to get anywhere on the multiplayer leaderboards without spending hours grinding, I don’t see how it’s possible without opening your wallet. This dawned on me pretty early, and I haven’t been back since.
Battle Passes make their debut in 2K26, and they leave a lot to be desired. There is a lot to earn split between free and premium pass tracks. Many of the free rewards are arenas, superstars, championships, and cosmetics you would have usually bought from an in-game store with free currency in previous games (or would have just been available out of the gate), while the premium track features a lot of MyFaction related goodies and a handful of extra wrestlers, with this first season themed around the stars of AAA. These replace the wrestler DLC drops of old, and I can see them being a frustrating replacement – not simply because it means you’ll need to grind matches in order to unlock things you’d just buy previously, but also because unlocking new tiers seems to take a lot of work. I spent around 25 hours between random exhibition matches, finishing Showcase mode, one full playthrough of MyRise, and a couple of hours on The Island, and I’ve only made it to tier 14 of 40. At the end of the track are unlockables, like what would have been the late Bray Wyatt’s last costume and a really cool move that I would have loved to give to a custom wrestler, but I fear I simply don’t have the endurance for that grind, or the patience to accept that I even have to.
Some of the more niche modes like Universe and MyGm are still good, with small improvements that don’t shake things up too dramatically but are certainly nice to have. You can now draft rosters against a computer controlled GM in Universe mode, and can do so really whenever you want, adding a dynamic way to shake up your rosters if things are starting to get stale. MyGM expands seasons to 50 weeks (and adds more PLEs to compensate), more match types, etc. The key change I found really spiced all this up the most was that you could book intergender matches and feuds, as well as book wrestlers in matches and promos on the same card. That means nothing to people who don’t care about this, but GM heads know that it opens up a lot of new options for promoting matches and maximizing your potential for fan and money gains from week to week. Great little shining additions to modes that are hiding away in corners.
