The Witcher 3 is my favourite game of all time. From the luscious, Parisian dreamscapes of Toussaint to the harsh and treacherous precipices that loom large over Skellige's untamed wilds, it presents a masterclass in worldbuilding that has yet to be paralleled.
But these environments have staying power, too. They're not just pretty to look at - they are emphatically alive, cohabited by everything from leviathan chorts to malicious miscreants hellbent on becoming the most feared and revered highwaymen in The Continent. And so it's not just the gloss applied over Novigradian boozers or Velenian glades that makes them worth realizing on next-gen hardware - it's the fact that every single element contained within them is equally worthy of its own individual glow-up.
Consider Skellige: It takes a while before Geralt is able to make his way toward the tempestuous crags domineered by clans that battle and booze with one another in equal measure, but holy shit is it worth the wait.
Admittedly, more seasoned witchers are likely capable of fast-tracking their way to the land of berserkers and stuffed unicorns in a relatively short amount of time, but I'd wager that's largely because as soon as you've experienced the Skelligan Isles once, their sirens will sing you to shore or shipwreck in perpetuity.
Anyway, the part I'm talking about is the arcadian grove encompassing Gedyneith, a sacred oak tree sanctified by the island's druids. It's roughly southeast of Kaer Trolde, where you originally land after arranging passage to Skellige, and is mostly surrounded by untamed wilderness and dilapidated industrial mills. As a result, it is the epicenter of primeval forestland, a beacon of sublimity in the midst of nature gone berserk.
Gedyneith is a magnificently imposing spectacle. When you eventually close the gap between you and its hulking figure, you'll notice that the druids endemic to this area have carved small, humble dwellings into its exterior. Gedyneith is not just an exalted natural phenomenon - it's a home.
In the current edition of The Witcher 3, Gedyneith is irrefutably remarkable. If you asked me yesterday if I could imagine how wonderful it could look on next-gen hardware, I'd have said no. But now I don't have to imagine it - I can visit Gedyneith on PS5 and bask in its ray-traced glory. I recognize that some people might think wanting to revisit a virtual tree for the millionth time is a bit strange, and if they're to replay the new edition of The Witcher 3 at all it will be for faster loading times or upgraded character models. But personally, I'm in it for Gedyneith. That and armour reflections. And Geralt's nipples in the bath.
But it's not just Gedyneith. It's important to note that this oak tree, sacred as it is, is just one example of The Witcher 3's sublimity. To build on that, it's worth mentioning that sublime, at least in the Romantic sense, is not necessarily a positively-charged word - calling something sublime can mean it's extravagant, but it can also imply that it is repugnant or blood-curdling. And for every awe-inspiring Gedyneith in The Witcher 3, there are ten times as many sublimely perturbing environments designed to make you poo your pants.
The earliest instance of this is probably Crookback Bog, where you go to find the Bloody Baron's missing wife. Its aesthetic is uncannily hodgepodge - the trails leading there are lined with sweets and deceptively bright flowers, conjuring the illusion that this is a sort of safe haven protected from the encroaching marshland.
In reality, Crookback Bog is the most dangerous area in all of Velen. Leshens may roam the deserted grounds of derelict estates elsewhere, while fiends take up residence in an inconspicuous cavern in close proximity to meandering merchants - but even beasts such as these fear the Ladies of the Wood, and the odious orphanage they vicariously preside over.
Towards the end of the Bloody Baron's questline, his daughter, Tamara, arrives at Crookback Bog with a small army of witch hunters. They're here to find her mother, Anna Strenger, who has been indoctrinated by the Ladies of the Wood. Despite your necessary intervention as the Baron's hired muscle, it all goes Pete Tong fairly sharpish, and the ensuing showdown is incredible.
The Ladies of the Wood send a fiend in to wipe out Geralt, Tamara, the Baron, and all of the soldiers that arrived with them. For those unacquainted with fiend fights, these abominable colossi have the ability to plunge their immediate surroundings into complete darkness, at which point you have to rely on sound to survive. It's a difficult, dramatic, and distinctly demanding experience.
Although Crookback Bog is remarkable for its visual fidelity and environmental design, this clash stands out to me as one encounter of many that will be decidedly superior on PS5. According to a recent report filed by Sony, the PS5 DualSense controller is capable of eliciting haptic feedback based on in-game audio, meaning that skirmishes such as this - where light is drastically eclipsed to stack the odds against you - will feel significantly more involved. A next-gen upgrade isn't just tied to an aesthetic improvement - it inherently implies a full sensory upheaval.
Most importantly of all though, I'm just excited to be able to dive back into my favourite world and see it in a different light. I know this might sound a bit prickish, but as French novelist Marcel Proust once wrote, "The real voyage of discovery consists, not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes." [Editor's note: it is a bit prickish.]
When The Witcher 3 launches on PS5, I'm going to play through the entire game all over again. And not just from start to finish - I'm going to exhaust every sidequest, collect every Gwent card, and, eventually, after having accomplished everything from Redanian treason to... well, Toussaintian treason, I'm going to turn off all the HUD and scour The Witcher 3's vast and varied expanses with my trusty horsey pal, Roach.
I might even have to play through it again before the PS5 edition launches, just so I can really notice the differences between the two.