I played LEGO Voyagers with my daughter, who is nine years old and already a mighty critic when it comes to games. Sitting down with her to try this felt like the right way to approach it. This isn’t a game designed for solo mastery or for grinding achievements. It’s a game that’s meant to be shared, that wants to create moments between people. Developed by Light Brick Studio, the team behind LEGO Builder’s Journey, and published by Annapurna Interactive, LEGO Voyagers continues that blend of LEGO’s creativity with a more artistic, narrative-driven approach to co-op gameplay.
This game is built as a two-player co-op adventure, and it shows in every puzzle. At launch, only one copy is needed since LEGO Voyagers includes a Friend’s Pass. You can also play local co-op. The Friend’s Pass makes it easy to bring someone along, which is great for families or friends who don’t both want to buy the game. For me, local co-op felt tighter, more immediate, and more in line with how the game is meant to be played: side by side, reacting together in the same room.
From the very beginning, I noticed how much the game trusts you. There are no tutorials in the traditional sense. You are two travelers in a strange LEGO world, and you figure things out by moving, experimenting, and failing together. It reminded me of It Takes Two or Split Fiction, but it doesn’t copy them. It feels distinctly LEGO on how it encourages tinkering and discovery. That sense of building something with your own hands translates into the way you solve puzzles.
The puzzles didn’t always land the same way. Some of them were clever and satisfying, the kind that made my daughter grin when she figured them out before I did. Others left us scratching our heads, circling the same mechanics until something finally clicked. There were moments when I wished the game would give us just a little nudge, but hints aren’t really a thing in LEGO games. That’s part of the charm, but it can also test your patience when you’re stuck for too long.
Some puzzles cross the line from challenging to confusing, and younger players will likely feel stuck without more guidance. The lack of any hint system can leave you spinning your wheels longer than feels fair. But even in those moments, there’s a spark of charm in watching someone else see the solution before you do. The difficulty becomes part of the memory.
What surprised me most was how much the co-op mechanics pulled us together. Certain puzzles demand real communication, not just two players doing their own thing. We had to time jumps, carry each other, and even fail together until we found a rhythm. There were a few times we ended up laughing on the couch because our timing was so off. And then there were moments when we hit perfect sync, and the game rewarded us with progress that felt earned. That feeling of connection is rare in games, and LEGO Voyagers nails it.
The story is harder to pin down. There are no voiceovers, no dialogue, nothing that tells you outright what is happening. Instead, it plays out through movement, through the spaces you explore, and through the way the characters lean on one another. It is a story open to interpretation. My daughter thought it was about friendship, about two travelers learning to trust each other. I found myself seeing it as a story of resilience, of two people trying to build a path through uncertainty. The beauty is that both of us are right. The game gives you space to fill in the blanks with your own meaning.
Music carries so much of the weight here. Without dialogue, the soundtrack becomes the voice. It swells in moments of discovery, softens during quiet stretches, and rises to meet the puzzles that challenge you most. More than once, I realized that the music was telling me how to feel before I had even processed the moment myself. It guided us without words, shaping the story in ways that text never could.
But it isn’t always perfect. There were times when we lingered in a stage for too long, stuck on a puzzle, and the music simply stopped. The silence broke the chill atmosphere and made the puzzle feel more like pressure than play. It was a reminder that music isn’t just decoration here, it’s part of what keeps the game’s rhythm alive.
What I loved most, though, was how music ties into player input. If you press the X button, your character sings, and it becomes this tiny ritual of anticipation. My daughter pressed it constantly, almost like she was waiting for something magical to happen. Every time a cutscene came, every time a cycle ended, there was this sense that something special was about to unfold. And often it did. The game has a way of slipping in surprises you don’t expect. Moments like that gave the whole journey a heartbeat.
On the technical side, I played LEGO Voyagers on PC with a 3080Ti, running mostly on medium settings. The game looked beautiful, the lighting soft and the LEGO bricks crisp and tactile, but I did notice some stuttering and frame drops in certain stages. It wasn’t constant, and it never broke the experience completely, but it was enough to remind me that the game might still need a bit of optimization before launch. The stutters were most noticeable in busier areas, and they stood out more because the rest of the experience felt so smooth and calming. When the frame rate dipped, it pulled me out of the flow, even if just for a moment.
What impressed me most about LEGO Voyagers is how much emotion it can pull from such simple tools. There are no cutscenes packed with exposition. There are no dialogue trees or big set pieces. Yet, sitting next to my daughter, I felt moved. I felt the weight of trying, failing, and eventually succeeding together. That emotional rhythm came not from the story the developers wrote, but from the story we lived while playing it.
By the time we finished our session, I realized LEGO Voyagers isn’t just about reaching the end. It’s about the small moments along the way. It’s the laughter when you both miss a jump. It’s the quiet satisfaction when the music swells and you know you solved something together. It’s the way my daughter leaned forward in concentration, then sat back smiling when we finally cleared a section that had us stumped.
LEGO Voyagers doesn’t need dialogue to tell its story. The story comes from you, the player, and from the person sitting beside you. It’s a rare kind of game that can feel different every time, because it depends so much on who you share it with.
LEGO Voyagers
LEGO Voyagers is a heartfelt co-op adventure that thrives on the stories you create with the person beside you. It can frustrate you with vague puzzles, but the emotion it inspires makes it unforgettable.
The Good
- Beautiful LEGO aesthetic
- Emotional, music-driven storytelling without dialogue
- Co-op mechanics that demand real teamwork and connection
- Friend’s Pass makes it easy to share the game
- Memorable small moments that feel personal
The Bad
- Some puzzles become too confusing without hints
- Music can drop out during long puzzles, breaking immersion
- Occasional stuttering and frame drops
