Keeper speaks clearest through its tremendous images, while billing itself as a “story told without words”. But the latter isn’t quite right. At various points, button prompts flash up on screen: for example, press X to “peck”. In spelling out exactly what the player should be doing, the world’s ambiguity is diminished.

For the most part, Battlefield 6 is a brilliant return to form, a thrilling, almost operatic shooter experience, which manages to combine deafening combat with tactical subtlety. How it will fit into the modern landscape of hero shooters and battle royale blast-em-ups is anyone’s guess – it deserves a shot, that’s for sure.

This spiky, funny, and bracingly original game consumed a few laughter- and tear-filled evenings, and left memories that will stay with me a good deal longer.

This might be a straightforward tale at heart, but it has absorbed me more than any other historical action game. Even hours and hours in, I still feel a flicker of excitement whenever Atsu purposefully draws her sword at the beginning of a battle. I will be sad to see the end of it.

FC 26 remains a strong package, despite its deliberate choice to abandon authenticity in the online space. There are still numerous gamers out there who crave realism, even in competitive matches. Yet while this represents a step backwards for real football, it’s unquestionably a stride forwards in the field of fan service. This is not the sim Pro Evo purists have longed for – but as an esports collaborative between the developer and its community, Fifa’s third follow-up achieves the majority of its aims.

One of the joys of Hades II is getting caught up in the internecine discord among the dysfunctional extended family. But it’s ultimately about resolving conflict. Sure, not everyone has read the memo: Scylla, front woman of a pop-punk trio of Sirens, cheerfully sings about clawing out your eyes and drowning you in the dank depths of Oceanus. But even the likes of power-suited Chaos and grumpy Nemesis (so affronted by you effectively doing her job that she’ll sporadically show up to challenge you to a contest, before barricading a potential exit) can be won over with a gift of nectar – or ambrosia. The game’s ending, too, makes it abundantly clear that any fight against forces of oppression requires us all to play a part, no matter how small; that whether you go low or high, resistance requires strength that can only come from solidarity.

Borderlands 4 is a big game – the main storyline takes 20 to 30 hours to complete, and there’s plenty to do afterwards. It is not entirely frictionless: sometimes you need to traverse huge distances in its missions, and the directional indicator that helps you along the way is annoyingly erratic. And it has been buggy at launch: playing on PC, it has occasionally crashed on me, even after a huge patch, and early players have reported problems with stuttering and other performance issues. But Borderlands needed to grow up a bit, and that’s exactly what it has done, without losing its essential charm. Its top-quality shooter action might be comfortably familiar, but it’s also an awful lot less annoying than it used to be.

The most frustrating thing is that there is the kernel of something great here. Despite the time-travel conceit, Cronos: The New Dawn isn’t remotely original – you’ll swear you’ve skulked the darkened corridors of these very hospitals, factories and apartment blocks before – but it looks stunning in places, plays well once you’ve upgraded your weapons, and there are spooksome moments and satisfying puzzles peppered throughout. When everything clicks, it is the engrossing, icky body-horror creepshow you want it to be. But then it will throw you into another exhausting death room full of bullet-sponge ghouls, and you’ll soon be filled with irritation instead of dread.

Snake Eater is a melodramatic delight, offering a brilliant introduction to – or excuse to revisit – one of gaming’s most gloriously idiosyncratic masterpieces.

Discounty is a valuable addition to the sorority of cozy, slice of life with a dream-job games. It goes a little against the grain, while still managing to hold your focus. While there is not a lot of romance in running away from your life to work in a supermarket, there is certainly a lot of good clean work to do, which still manages to feel like play.

Despite some efforts in meta-progression, it’s difficult to look past Drag x Drive’s most significant hurdle – that it’s uncomfortable to play for extended periods. The mouse controls are ingenious in theory, and when applied in small bouts, it feels like a novel prototype. But, in the context of such overtly active gameplay, the concept starts to fall apart. What remains is a surprisingly inaccessible sports game that lacks modal variety and a long-term hook. If you were hoping for a spiritual successor to the Nintendo Switch’s Rock ’Em Sock ’Em brawler Arms, you will be disappointed.

It’s hard to make the case that its knife fights and shootouts are anything more than functional, and its missions feel slightly too straightforward to befit a franchise once known for its sublime changes of pace. But even with those caveats in mind, it’s still absolutely worth playing for the richness of its setting, and the infectious enthusiasm it has for its grim subject matter.

I played using the touchscreen on my Steam Deck, which I found deeply pleasing and responsive compared to using the buttons, which were a little tricky. Decorating my tiny bookshop was great: discovering I could acquire a shop dog was a real joy. The local characters are quite a serious bunch and hold some old dramas and pathos – there is a sense of a lush, lived-in community unravelling secrets and context as the seasons pass by. It is the first new game I’ve found myself truly relaxing into in quite some time: the gameplay is rhythmic and mellow, and, dare I say it, genuinely cosy. Tiny Bookshop provides players with a job that doesn’t feel like a job but a lovely escape into words and stories.

Mocked by the clock and the whizzing sounds in your ears, Time Flies gets under your skin not only because it’s a clever puzzle game, but because it manages to break down its profound ideas into easily digestible nuggets of gameplay. By blending its thinky thesis with such playful mechanics, Time Flies supplies a lighthearted canvas for players to engage with existentialism for an hour or two. As you seek a sense of meaning for the fly by ticking off their ambitions, there’s plenty of room left for you to muse about your own.

Not all cosy games need to evoke hard emotions. However, it does feel like a disservice to the emotionally complex source material not to explore the richness of the world at large – especially when dry humour, tragedy and finely drawn social structures are what make Tolkien’s writing so powerful. Without any challenging quandaries to pull at your heartstrings, the promising atmosphere in Tales of the Shire is overwhelmed by endless fetch quests. Diehard Tolkienites and Stardew Valley lifers may be better off looking elsewhere for their cosy thrills.

I’m not sure Bananza has the same legs as Mario Odyssey. Where that game blossomed in a rich, post-credit endgame, DK lives more in the moment: moving ever forward, chewing through new ideas and never stopping to pulverise the roses. Come the game’s epic climax, he has smashed through concrete, rubber, watermelon, ostrich eggs, entire Donkey Kong Country homages, glitter balls – even the NPCs he’s trying to protect. If the weight of Switch 2 does lie on his shoulders, that’s just one more tool to bash a hole in the universe. His appetite for destruction is infectious.

Like the real sport, it’s about perseverance and repetition: when the combos started to flow again for me after a few hours, it felt so freeing. I still don’t think there’s a better skating game out there than old-school Tony Hawk’s, even after all this time – and there’s certainly no better time capsule of this pivotal moment in the history of the sport.

Of the many things Death Stranding 2 is trying to say, the message that comes to the fore is: you are never truly alone. Global disasters, big tech, even death itself – these things might abstract the way we connect to one another, but they can’t sever the connection altogether. Not bad for a game about delivering boxes.

MindsEye is an oddity. For all its failings, I rarely disliked playing it, and yet it’s also difficult to sincerely recommend. Its ideas, its moment-to-moment action and narrative are so thinly conceived that it barely exists. And yet: I’m kind of happy that it does.

It really is an impressively welcoming game, this, generous and detailed and unfailingly fun, different but with the same spirit. It feels like the culmination of something, a synthesis of different philosophies of fun that still nonetheless comes together. The Switch 2 itself does feel like a swish upgrade rather than an all-new console, so it’s a relief that its headline game shows that Nintendo still has a talent for reinvention.

With a real-life rule-change next year due to change the cars radically, Formula One currently feels like it’s at a generational peak, and F1 25 is so brilliantly crafted and full of elements that generate an irresistible mix of nailed-on realism and fantasy that it, too, feels like the culmination of a generation of officially licensed Formula One games. F1 25? Peak F1.

FromSoftware’s experiment in upending its established gameplay formula is admirable, and taking down gargantuan foes alongside friends really adds to the joy you feel at finally besting what at first felt like an insurmountable task. It’s just a shame that the game’s skewed pacing and overreliance on Elden Ring’s pool of assets so greatly mars the experience.

It’s all so frustrating. Deliver at All Costs offers up a beautiful destructible playground, then barely utilises it, instead focusing on a bizarre, half-baked story that somehow ends in a courtroom drama. It feels like being invited to a glittering champagne reception, then getting collared by a conspiracy theorist who insists on describing the plot of his hokey sci-fi novel for the next eight hours. What a criminal waste.

This is fascinating, formally daring stuff that, in its two-hour playtime, asks more questions about the nature of memory, simulation and identity than a dozen 100-hour epics.

This prequel takes a blunt force trauma approach to problem-solving and demon-killing, with a slower pace but more spectacular weaponry.

Drop Duchy is an extremely clever experiment in game design by combination, and with each new feature you wonder how on earth the team managed to balance all the spinning plates. There’s a reason why the rogue-like and deck-builder genres are so wildly popular: they’re compulsive, challenging and systemically fascinating, and each one adds its own little foibles to the collective rulebook. In the case of Drop Duchy, the foibles are worth the price of entry alone.

This attempt to cosy-fi an immersive sim game is full of ‘zany’ gags as you rescue cats from a spaceship, but it gets a bit too saccharine.

I wanted to love this game. On paper it is outrageous. Strange Scaffold, the developer, is known for the weird – notably Clickholding, which is sinister, experimental and truly queries what a game is in its execution (there is a lot of clicking, and being watched in the action of clicking). Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3 certainly is creepy, and set in a mansion, and does have dinosaurs and some really satisfying puzzles. It also has some great ideas and isn’t quite a failed experiment. While it doesn’t bend reality in the way that it seems to want to, it aims high, and if the player can manage the places where the aesthetic falls short, they’ll have a great time. They might even meet a nice, blond dinosaur they can take home with them.