I still remember the day I first stumbled upon Marvel vs. Capcom 2 in a dimly lit arcade back in 2002. The vibrant colors, the chaotic six-button layout, and that unforgettable "TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE" soundtrack—it was love at first sight. Little did I know then that I'd be waiting nearly two decades for these classic fighters to make their proper return. When Marvel Vs. Capcom Origins dropped on September 25, 2012, I thought we were entering a new golden age of fighting game collections. But then... silence. Twelve long years of checking forums, watching grainy YouTube videos of Japanese arcade cabinets, and wondering if these masterpieces would ever see official release again.

The drought felt particularly painful because I'd been deeply involved in the fighting game community throughout this period. I've probably attended over fifty tournaments as both competitor and commentator, and the absence of these foundational titles was palpable. We'd joke about how finding a working Marvel vs. Capcom 2 cabinet had become like searching for holy relics. The community kept these games alive through unofficial means—emulators, private servers, modified consoles—but it wasn't the same. There's something magical about official support, about knowing the developers themselves still value their own history. When Marvel vs. Capcom Infinite released in 2017 and received such mixed reactions, I'll admit I felt a pang of disappointment. It wasn't just about the simplified mechanics or the visual style—it was the sense that the soul of what made these crossovers special had been diluted.

That's why opening Marvel Vs. Capcom Fighting Collection for the first time felt like reuniting with old friends I hadn't seen since high school. The package includes seven titles spanning from 1994 to 2000, which represents arguably the most creative period in versus fighting history. As someone who's spent probably over 5,000 hours across various fighting games, I can confidently say this collection handles the preservation work with remarkable care. The developers didn't just dump ROMs into an emulator—they've implemented proper online play with rollback netcode, which is absolutely crucial for competitive play. I've tested the connection quality between North America and Japan, and while there's obviously some delay, it's surprisingly playable compared to many modern fighting games.

What struck me most was how differently these games have aged. Marvel vs. Capcom 2 remains as brilliant as ever—the three-character teams, the assist calls, the insane custom combos. It's like riding a bicycle, except the bicycle can shoot plasma beams and summon giant robots. But some of the earlier titles, particularly the X-Men: Children of the Atom from 1994, feel almost archaeological. The movement is stiffer, the combos more limited, yet there's undeniable charm in seeing these characters in their earliest digital forms. I found myself spending hours in the museum mode, which includes original artwork, soundtracks, and promotional materials I haven't seen since reading gaming magazines in the 90s.

The collection isn't perfect—I noticed some input delay in the PlayStation 4 version that wasn't present in the Switch edition I tested later. And the lobby system feels somewhat barebones compared to what we've seen in games like Guilty Gear Strive. But these are minor quibbles when you consider what's been achieved here. We're talking about games that were literally disappearing from existence—arcade boards failing, documentation being lost, original source code potentially corrupted. This collection feels like digital archaeology done right.

Having played through every title in the collection multiple times now, I'm struck by how much my perspective has evolved. As a teenager, I loved these games for their flashy special moves and recognizable characters. Now, as someone who understands fighting game mechanics at a deeper level, I appreciate the design innovations each title brought to the genre. The shift from Marvel Super Heroes to Marvel vs. Capcom introduced assist characters and tag-team mechanics that would influence everything that followed. These games were laboratories where developers experimented with concepts that would become standard in later fighters.

The timing of this collection feels particularly significant. We're in an era where fighting games are experiencing a remarkable resurgence, with titles like Street Fighter 6 breaking sales records and EVO drawing hundreds of thousands of viewers. New players entering the scene can now experience the games that shaped modern fighting game design. I've already started introducing some of my newer training partners to Marvel vs. Capcom 2, and watching them discover the freedom of its team-building mechanics has been incredibly rewarding. They're experiencing the same wonder I felt twenty years ago, except now they can do it from their living rooms with friends across the country.

Looking back at those twelve years of waiting, I realize the preservation of gaming history matters more than we often acknowledge. These aren't just products—they're cultural artifacts, pieces of interactive history that represent specific moments in both gaming and popular culture. The care put into this collection suggests developers are finally recognizing this responsibility. While not every game here has aged equally well, having them all together in one place, properly maintained and accessible, feels like a gift to both longtime fans and new generations. The floodgates have indeed opened, and I couldn't be more excited to see what comes through next.