What is for sure is that over its six-hour span we're engrossed in Still Wakes The Deep far more often than not. [Issue#399, p.100]

By turns astonishing and insufferable, there is as much here to make your eyes roll as widen. Even the moments when Hellblade II delivers nigh-unparalleled visual spectacle (see 'Giant steps') are soured by the fact that our involvement in these set-pieces so often feels incidental. For long stretches, it's akin to watching someone else play, only occasionally - and always unwillingly - handing back the controller. We can't help but return to that old chestnut about the interactive experience being a conversation between designer and player; there is an irony that in this, of all games, we're scarcely able to get a word in edgeways. [Issue#399, p.104]

If Indika won't be everyone's tempo, it proves you can work small miracles when you dare to shed familiar habits. [Issue#398, p.122]

At once expanded yet stripped back (or focused, if you're feeling generous), Luminous might not quite be Endless Ocean as we knew it, but it retains enough of the series' distinctive signature that it's worth taking the plunge. [Issue#398, p.120]

There are points of interest here, but they're scattered too far and wide to make this a worthwhile excursion. [Issue#398, p.118]

What follows is positively giddying, in the manner of a well-tuned ghost train or haunted house, provoking chuckles and squirms at the same time. [Issue#398, p.116]

While it can be trying, Tales of Kenzera remains a piece of classy engineering, supported by evocative landscapes, meaty audio effects and a score that combines traditional Bantu sounds with modern electronica. [Issue#398, p.114]

These smart updates to the classic RPG formula mean the wilfully archaic design choices that remain in place stand out all the more. [Issue#398, p.110]

The fascination of those lingering unknowns is part of why Basso's remarkable indie debut takes up residence in your brain when you're not playing it. But on a more fundamental level, it is simply a beautifully constructed, wonderfully characterful adventure, one that marks the blossoming of a major talent. [Issue#398, p.98]

For all its cinematic aspirations and borrowings, though, it's clear the Swedish studio's heart firmly belongs to videogames. [Issue#398, p.104]

There are flashes of brilliance in Stellar Blade, still, most often sparked by the titular weapon. But it's too broad and with that a little underdone. If only Eve's initial clarity of purpose had been more contagious. [Issue#398, p.106]

As an empowering journey, Showtime proves THIS princess doesn't need a plumber to rescue her; you sense its intended audience will crush a grape as Peach follows suit. [Issue#397, p.122]

This disappointing reboot is best left, well, alone. [Issue#397, p.118]

Sure, occasionally it beats you up just because it can. [Issue#397, p.116]

It's like watching penguins in an Attenborough documentary turning from ungainly waddlers into torpedoes. [Issue#397, p.114]

Those seeking strategic depth may find Bulwark wanting, but if you're happy to kitbash without consequence then Sala's atmospheric world is worth a return visit. [Issue#397, p.112]

As narrative adventures go, this is like the wonky piece of pottery we find after packing up Tess's things: handsomely rendered but misshapen and disappointingly empty. [Issue#397, p.110]

Sharper humour would have helped make these folk more endearing to us, too. [Issue#397, p.108]

Children of the Sun wears that rawness like a badge of honour, its rough edges not sanded down but rather made so jagged as to draw blood. [Issue#397, p.106]

Direct comparisons don't do Ronin any favours. Its grappling is reminiscent of Sekiro, but the procedure never feels as urgent or dynamic as it does in From's game. Its combat follows rhythms previously explored in the Nioh series and also Wo Long, but it rarely feels any more refined, nor more satisfying... But it is consistently charming. [Issue#397, p.102]

The game's greatest triumph is in delivering a truly singular vision. This is not the work of a team in thrall to trend or fashion, its designers given the opportunity to build from their own imagining instead. At a time when many rival studios are guided by the whims of focus testing and audience pandering, it has resulted in a game with one elusive quality. Dragon's Dogma 2 is, more than anything else, unforgettable. [Issue#397, p.98]

It might seem unfair to complain of maddening repetition, given the subject matter, but it turns out not every trope of game benefits from being trapped in a loop. [Issue#396, p.123]

Inkulinati might be deeply silly, but it's equally smart - a game set in the margins that deserves to be properly illuminated. [Issue#396, p.121]

Diverting and wonderfully weird as it may be, but Side Order doesn't supplant Octo Expansion as the series' singleplayer peak. [Issue#396, p.119]

From its questionable (albeit largely ignorable) microtransactions to its inconsistent lore, Foamstars feels about as sturdy and enduring as the substance that powers it. [Issue#396, p.118]

In depicting a bold move that goes dreadfully awry, that opening cinematic proves unfortunately prescient. [Issue#396, p.114]

Maybe, after all, Ubisoft has managed to simulate the existence of the average pirate. Perhaps that's what the fourth 'A' stands for. [Issue#396, p.112]

The mission finale is climactic; a frantic last stand awaiting your dropship, enemies pulled in droves towards the beacon, palpable relief if you and your buddies dive through the boarding hatch before your saviour jets from the landing pad. [Issue#396, p.110]