Big Baddies Breakdown: Tenna (Deltarune)

In Big Baddies Breakdown, Wolfman Jew analyzes all sorts of boss fights across the games industry. The catch: one boss per game. Many of these are brilliant, some of them poor. Several show technical polish, while others tell stories through their fights. But all are worthy of discussion.

Spoilers for Chapter 3 of Deltarune; mild spoilers for Chapters 1, 2, and 4.

When Undertale first released in 2015, barreling through the gaming landscape like a runaway train, it had an impeccable pitch. What if you had a JRPG like EarthBound or Dragon Quest where the combat was built around not killing monsters? Attacking them is easy as a quicktime event, but to “spare” them, you’ll have to take each turn wearing them down with prompts. Perhaps you’ll goad one beast into acting calmer, or you’ll struggle to find the right answer while two are trying to get you. Designer Toby Fox stuck a text adventure into his RPG, just like how he turned the “enemy’s turn” part of the combat into a bullet hell SHMUP. This creates a system where you have to study and read enemies to get the ideal “Pacifist” ending, and where all three forms of combat—attacking, defending, and menuing—all require separate skills. Even better is that it allows entire story arcs to happen through the mechanics of battle.

Image: Source Gaming. A typically crazy enemy turn in Deltarune, which follows the basics of Undertale. Your little heart has to evade big white splotches while dialogue and entire character arcs happen.

If there is a flaw, and I don’t know if there is, it’s that after a while, it can start to feel a bit samey. That’s probably inevitable from the interface. You only control one character in Undertale, your nonviolent options (collectively called “ACTs” in the game’s parlance) are abstract choices from a command list, and the same enemies reappear frequently, so it can feel at times like retaking a test. Now, the bosses are uniformly great; they incorporate entirely new mechanics or gimmicks, and sparing them is complex. But the normal foes can blend together after a while, especially with the game’s harsh pixel graphics and repeated fights. This is also true of the notorious “Genocide” Run, which entails grinding to kill low level enemies until every area is a desolate no man’s land. It’s on point thematically. Killing is simple, tactile, and morally hollow, while sparing takes effort and study but gives you a better story. But it does lead to a slightly strange flavor, one that makes replays driven almost purely by the witty character writing.

Fox’s episodic sequel / spinoff / side story Deltarune, currently four chapters into an intended seven, toys with this central conceit at every turn. It does it with its mechanics, which have ballooned in number. With its cast, who are far more overtly involved in the plot. And, perhaps most of all, with its coterie of villains, who carry these changes with demented glee. The constant revolutions and expansions are what makes Deltarune a delight, a kaleidoscope of lunacy, color, and surprisingly entertaining references to dated pop culture memes. And no one represents this better than Mr. “Ant” Tenna: talking boob tube, host of TV Time, and the main antagonist of Chapter 3: Late Night.

Image: Source Gaming. Tenna gets introduced via an FMV sequence that ranks among the most surreal things I saw in 2025.

How could he not? He’s the manifestation of TV overload, a creature purpose-built for entertainment and perfect for a game obsessed with chasing new sensations. In the Dark World hidden underneath Deltarune’s quiet monster town, everyday objects anthropomorphize into living beings; they’re stained with their owners’ residual emotions. Where protagonist Kris’ family television is a mere CRT monitor in the real world, down in a land of green rooms and secret prizes it’s a game show host desperate to keep his audience distracted. That he’s given strange, almost prerendered sprite graphics—and some voice acting, perhaps the most surprising element of Deltarune’s formal launch back in June—only adds to this. He’s a dominating presence, more than any other character in the story thus far.

Tenna’s whole vibe lays the groundwork for Chapter 3. In each episode, Kris and their sidekicks, monster delinquent Susie and obsequious dark prince Ralsei, have to slink into the Dark World to plug up a magic fountain. These levels turn aspects of Kris’ humdrum small town into worlds that are colorful, bombastic, exciting. There’s a seductive element to places like Card Kingdom and Cyber World, because they seem to give the monster townsfolk what they want. Nerdy teen Noelle can’t open up to her crush Susie normally, but down there the two can go on a romantic date. Susie herself is an ostracized bully at school, but as one of the Dark World’s chosen heroes she’s powerful, unstoppable, and always respected. School supplies and computers turn into fawning friends, the stakes initially seem quaint, and Kris even gets to dress like a cool sci-fi warrior. Chapter 3 starts by explaining that the Dark World is born from people’s hopes, dreams, and neuroses (Ralsei explicitly claims that he and his kin only exist for the sake of the “Lightners” up top), so it makes sense that it’s giving them what’s just out of reach. But it’s also patently voyeuristic, potentially apocalyptic, and may be dragging as much from people’s cruelest impulses as their most pedestrian. Hence sealing the fountains, which are the spawning point of every new world. There’s assuredly more to the dynamic, but by this point, what matters is that Kris is running through a purpose-built facsimile of their and their friends’ desires.

Image: Source Gaming. The first half of the chapter is all about the boss trying to placate you with mini-games, adventures, and asides. It really captures the “FOMO” element that the television industry has always chased.

Bringing wishes to life, instant gratification, pure fun with a maybe toxic underside… well, it’s not unlike the appeal of television, and art as a whole. It makes sense that in the mixed-up world of Deltarune, a character—a villain, especially—would turn that subtext into text. And that’s the role Tenna occupies most naturally, because while every fountain is guarded by an eccentric lunatic, he isn’t interested in wielding its power for evil. His reason for stopping the heroes, how he intends to stop them, and how he views them are all the same: he’s a TV, and TVs want to be watched. Therefore, he recontextualizes the dialogue and JRPG battles, the actions you were already doing, as a series of programs that keep the chosen heroes in an endless loop. Chapter 3 is about Kris wrestling with this very specific form of imprisonment, just as they wrestle with authority, villainy, and even your control as the player.

Of course, you’ll still have to fight in this RPG, and it’s where Deltarune shines brightest. The main way it distinguishes itself from Fox’s last game is that the text adventure command list has expanded into a rolodex of unique mechanics. Back in Undertale’s sprawling Underworld you might press a button to hug a volcano offscreen, but Kris can tame a Deltarune beast by going through a button-mashing quicktime event, answering a query, solving a puzzle, or jumping into an impromptu arcade shooter. Each ACT is a clever, WarioWare-style microgame, making repeat fights entertaining. And while the basics of the enemy attacks have been retained, the bullet hell segments have been improved as well. Some ACTs require a new resource, TP, and the easiest way to accrue it is by just grazing every attack. This neatly marries the two kinds of gameplay and incentivizes reckless behavior. While Chapter 3 doesn’t have the largest selection of foes—you mostly fight Daisuke Jigen lookalike jazzmen, trippy photography installations, and hateful watercoolers—its fights show the benefits of these changes really well.

Image: Source Gaming. The most striking mini-game in the chapter is this ridiculous and out of nowhere rhythm section. It’s true to game culture and TV culture, but Susie and Ralsei’s behavior are also character beats.

When you aren’t fighting or exploring TV World, literally the name, you’re going through mini-games. The six main ones are a pop quiz, a retro top-down puzzle adventure, a rock band rhythm game, an Old West shooting gallery, a goofy cooking show where you dodge fire, and a fully optional Godzilla pastiche that I missed until doing research for this article. These are pretty overt gaming references, but they’re also TV references; they’re game shows and classic movies and, although not a “show,” per se, the communal experience of playing games. It’s an expansion of what the fights are already doing in ways that are also specific to this story. You’re on Tenna’s turf, and that means starring in shows. Also important to the story is the way the party responds to these adventures. Susie pulls pranks and wants the fun to keep going, Ralsei censors tame song lyrics and tries to move the adventure along, and the ever-inscrutable Kris goes with the flow… or not, depending on a few choices on your part.

All of these features are really fun. They’re clever, tactile, and make every encounter feel special. But they are also symbolic of the story of Chapter 3, which is about fun and camaraderie being as much an impediment as a value. Removing them right at the end wouldn’t make sense, especially since players had already gotten started on mastering them. So instead of throwing them out, the Tenna fight reuses them to ludicrous results.

His arrangement is as simple as a telethon. Kris, Susie, and Ralsei have to get a thousand superfluous points to win, specifically through the ACTs available to them. Each option has a different cost and reward, from a bounty of points to Kris’ near-worthless announcement that they “LoveTV.” However, the cheapest and most effective option is for all three to agree to a mini-game. Literally, it costs sizably more TP for Kris to do one on their own than to do it with one party member, and that’s way more expensive than when it’s all three. This is a pretty blunt way to make sure the team does the missions together (even though it doesn’t seem to have an actual mechanical difference; the mini-games function largely identically), but it at least leaves some wiggle room for, say, Kris and Susie to team up while Ralsei heals in the background. Kris’ sidekicks also have context-sensitive ACTs of their own; they’re essentially bets that can score you way more points based on how you do in the bullet hell sections.

Image: Source Gaming. The basic Deltarune UI and the basic stage for this fight. To keep the performance element going, it’s one of the only times where you get a real background and not a black void.

These mini-games are from the main chapter; the main one that doesn’t appear is the Zelda-inspired RPG (which would’ve been too slow for the fight’s vibe), and the only new one is a dopey “bouncing ball” bit (which doesn’t have the depth to support more appearances and gives the fight something new). They’re also filled with a few alterations, remixes, and second versions to keep you on your toes; the western shooting gallery, for instance, has a reversed form where the gang are the desperados evading shots. That makes the choices just a bit more perilous, since Kris and co. do take damage from mistimed prompts and incorrect answers. Quite a bit of it, really.

Broken rhythm is a common refrain in both Deltarune and Undertale. Ideally, you’re deftly dodging attacks and choosing the right options perfectly every time. In reality, most players will not act with such grace and repeatedly suffer enemy fire. This is made even more precarious in Pacifist runs, as EXP is only dropped by slain enemies. Eventually, you’ll have to stop writing off damage and put off everything to heal. This is fairly unimportant when you’re scouring the Dark World, but it flares up during boss fights, especially Tenna’s. His attacks hit hard and come in challenging patterns, and remember, you’ve still got to keep building that point total. Taking too long to shore yourself up means more turns dodging Tenna’s standup-themed attacks. The safest way to play fights is to power through as fast as possible, because every turn you’re in is a threat.

Image: Source Gaming. This inversion of the shoot-em-up minigame is somewhat easier, but every hit you take will hurt everyone on the team.

Deltarune makes this more amenable in a few ways. Ralsei can use healing magic that only costs TP, all three members can use healing items and build TP by defending, and downed party members slowly regenerate health. In this battle in particular, everyone also has their own low risk ACT for getting points, and you even get a point every time you dodge an enemy hit. Perhaps most important of all is the fact that you can simply FIGHT the boss with normal attacks. It doesn’t change the story. However, it also feels kinda empty and disconnected. Beating on Tenna means you’re ultimately refusing to meet him on his level, which is the chapter’s main narrative throughline. Arguably, it’s the game’s as a whole. And on a less philosophical level, the prompts are simply more tactile than the combat now.

That aspect feels especially poignant when you consider what happens to Tenna after the fight ends. He gets killed—loudly, violently—by a new villain who’s been skulking in the back of the game. The Knight was referenced in Chapters 1 and 2, but it took into Deltarune’s official 2025 release for them to show up in full. They’re scary and inscrutable, and alongside other plot points in Chapter 3, they highlight how much (and how well) the game trafficks in drama for a project whose two chapters were largely light and zany. Tenna’s death frontloads a lot of horror, drama, and threat that had always been there but was largely kept on the sidelines. It brings you into the darker, sadder Chapter 4 in a really clear way.

Image: Source Gaming. It’s not surprising in retrospect, but Tenna’s murder shocked me when I saw it first.

Despite all this, I don’t think Tenna’s the best boss of Deltarune, at least in its incomplete current state. Queen might be better, Jackenstein is definitely better, and bonus bosses like Spamton NEO are crazier. And yet, I think he’s the best encapsulation of what the game is doing. He’s a summation of Chapter 3 to a degree that surpasses his fellow chapter bosses. The mechanics of his fight draw from his chapter while also adding in new conceits. He walks the line between comedy and tragedy more strongly than any other boss in the game. His death even ties into the way the episodic storytelling works, as you can decide what becomes of his remains after the fact. More than anything, though, he’s the perfect example of what Deltarune is as a game. Its energy, its craziness, its constant motion; no one else embodies it so well.

Thanks for PhantomZ2 for edits.