Final Fantasy Rebirth is imperfect, incautious, uneven, and gloriously, fearlessly unfocused. Final Fantasy Rebirth is unmissable.

The real meat of a roguelike is, to be fair, not the climactic challenge but the preparation for it: the massing of gear and experience, and the primeval pleasure of Numbers Going Up. As much as Hyper Light Breaker is unfinished and more than slightly broken, its biggest issue is how that meaty part just isn’t all that enjoyable. The combat is awkward, the progression is doddering, and the world isn’t interesting enough to motivate indefinitely repeating visits to it. That makes for an awfully long to-do list, early access or no. [Early Access Review]

So let's not overcomplicate it. Minishoot' Adventures is an outwardly straightforward game, but its straightforwardness is deceptive. As I was playing, a stupid question formed: given its conceptual obviousness and simple pleasures, why aren't there more games as good as this? It's a stupid question because it has an obvious answer: because it's incredibly difficult to make a good game and because what seems straightforward in retrospect almost never is in creation. Maybe Minishoot' Adventures isn't a "great" game, but it sure is a great time, and that's plenty.

A largely uninteresting original story and an otherwise bloated word count aside, Dynasty Warriors Origins is a joyous balancing act of tension and spectacle that's completely reignited my interest in the series.

Right now, you have to put down around £25 to play the early access, but come the full release, the whole thing will be free. Between then and now, they plan to add three further acts and six further characters, as well as presumably start contorting the endgame into the various experimental shapes of its predecessor. As it stands, the additional monetisation is simple and unobtrusive: a shop to purchase various cosmetics and stash tabs to help you better organise your amassed items. [Early Access Review]

Caves Of Qud is as deep as any Bethesda open world RPG (technically 2 billion floors deep) and funnelled through a rich prism of randomness possible thanks to the limited scope of its visuals. It is complex and compelling enough that many glowing Steam reviews are left only after hundreds of hours of playtime. By contrast, I have barely made a dent. Yes, you will have to embrace and decipher the lore-riddled lingo. And you will have to stoically acknowledge infinite death as a means of learning the arcane rules of survival. But persevere and you will discover a realm hundreds of times more vibrant than the dark inky green of its screens. [RPS Bestest Bests]

Thing is, Marvel Rivals can still be an incredibly accessible hero shooter, one that does allow people who don't care as much as me about Competitive Stuff to just hammer buttons and play as muscular people who frequent the screens of the Odeon as much as Kojima spends his time 3D scanning beautiful people. There isn't anything wrong in that! In fact, I think this is great. People can just hop in and have fun in a free game that doesn't even seem particularly predatory in its microtransactions...The extra thing is, Marvel Rivals is also a PVP hero shooter that lacks the restraint of Overwatch and turns matches into slightly formless blenders as a result. The fact I can't remember any of the map names is a testament to this, where normally I'd have those sightlines and chokepoints memorised. It won't be a surprise to you that I won't be sticking with the game. and if you're someone after The Next Competitive Timesink, I don't think you will either.

More so than other games, my experience with Mystery Dungeon does feel like a case of the reviewer’s curse; the dreaded roguelike embargo. Played one run at a time as a cosy evening ritual, and the luster is going to stay on a lot longer. Still, that sense of fickleness - of having little agency how your runs turn out in the face of random drops - does feel like it’s baked in. Perhaps that’s the sticking point for me, having to deal with untameable chaos lurking underneath such inviting presentation. Perhaps I should let go and allow the winds of fate to carry me. It’s just not easy when they keep knocking me right back to the bottom of a mountain, and making me trust them again if I want to get back up.

But these issues are just uncommon enough that Microsoft Flight Simulator 2024 manages to weather them over and over again, and it’s never too long before the simulation begs your forgiveness with a relentless series of the most astonishing postcard views you’ve ever pointed your eyes at. Whether you’re breaking cloud cover over Mount Rainier, flying low over the gin-clear seas of Saint Lucia, or making your final descent into the greasy miasma of Gatwick, Microsoft Flight Simulator 2024 is an endless parade of giddy spectacle.

Naiad is, yes, sometimes pleasant. It's an easy listening, acoustic cover of a song, and some will praise it for having the notes in the right order. Maybe they find that kind of muzak relaxing; for me, it just makes me feel like I'm on hold.

Machine Games have reproduced the experience of the Lucasfilm movies in a 99% accurate form. And they have done so in a manner only a megafunded Bethesda studio with a lot of Nazi-killing experience could. Yes, the video gamey seams stand out as you scarf down croissants for health and hear another bigot coughing behind a wall. But just as I'm not interested in Baker's performance reaching some unobtainable ledge of authenticity, I also don't want my adventure to abandon the language of games where it doesn't make sense to do so. I'm happy for this to be exactly the kind of expensive, cinematic, blockbuster explorathon it seemed predestined to be. Sneeze away, little Nazi. I know where you are.

The Thing stays interesting in its foibles even when it’s nowhere close to entertaining. And, on balance, I don’t regret my time with it. It’s a worthwhile bit of in-amber preservation, even if I don’t necessarily want to touch the insect inside if I can help it.

Twice this year I’ve felt such a strong need to support a game that I’ve bought a copy for a friend as soon as I’d finished my review copy. Alongside Tactical Breach Wizards, Mechabellum is the best fifteen quid I’ve spent all year. At this rate, it’ll still be best fifteen quid I’ve spent next year too. It's sometimes hard to tell if my love for Mechabellum comes from its place as an entry point to a genre I always would have loved, but I strongly suspect it's simply because this is such an thoughtfully constructed and impeccably designed bit of strategy. I'd call it loving, almost, if it wasn't so incredibly cuthroat that I almost feel guilty each time I do what mechs do best: stomp another opponent into dust with little more than a single, well-considered click. [RPS Bestest Bests]

I’ve been battered and sometimes frustrated by S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2, but ultimately there is something admirable about its commitment to challenging you – especially when it simultaneously provides just enough tools to avoid becoming unfair. Between that, its punchy shooting, and some properly superb atmosphere-building, it’s done enough to earn the mantle of Good Game...Is it a good enough game, though, that you should headbutt your way through such a dense wall of bugs? I personally think yes, having not played or really thought about any other games for all the previous five days that I’ve been lost in the Zone. At the very least, that question should probably be more a matter of whether it’s worth playing now, or in six months' time, when updates and the promised mod support might have more thoroughly patched it up. And even in the latter case, that’s probably not an alien concept to S.T.A.L.K.E.R. fans.

I especially like how the arcade game's soul has been transplanted not just in the art style but also the sound design. The character select screen yells each character's name with the tinny echo of arcade enthusiasm. "Marco!" - "Fio!" - "Echo!" It is so married to its arcade roots that even the currency you use to unlock post-campaign upgrades is called "credits". I've accrued a fistful of these digi-quarters. But you know what? I'm content with what I've played. Like a good Metal Slug game, I can happily walk away from it without seeing every last battlefield. I'm fully satisfied with the time and quarters I've already spent.

As the horrors unfold and you learn more about the post, Threshold's commentary becomes clearer. It's about wilful ignorance and excess and preservation at all costs. And about how one's work can feel vitally important, even if you know something's up and your place within it disposable. Of all the horror games I've played, I think this one will stick in my memory as short, to the point, and wickedly immersive. So yeah, if you're happy to take over my shift, I'd urge you to. I'll actually be off now. Call me if you need anything, and keep the pace!

Grit your teeth, accept the combat for what it is, and you've got a wonderful story here.

I've been playing management games for a long time, and it feels odd that Planet Coaster 2 should make me feel so stupid. The method of building something as simple as a set of restrooms is elaborate and sticky, and requires so much returning to a side menu to resize grids or twiddle the angles that my brain just starts to reject it. Like I say, more patient Planetfans might feel the pain of this troublesome interface less keenly. If that's you and you're willing to risk a face full of chlorinated slider bars, then dive right in. But for new players like me, it's a painful belly flop.

You could start playing this today, an hour at a time before bed, and you’d still be playing when the snow melted in Spring. Some portions of that adventure are better than others. Some are downright ugly. With those caveats, in its latest (and possibly definitive) incarnation, Dragon Quest III is a colourful, adventurous romp of wild goose chases, indistinct but compelling rumours, and tactical positioning: a miniature fantasy made grand.

And this is what makes The Rise Of The Golden Idol truly special, I think - the way it draws out so much character and flavour from such a straightforward means of interactivity. You can go about sleuthing safe in the knowledge that you have all the tools to solve a scene, but still don’t feel constrained or railroaded. It’s a wonderful example of a stripped back design pitch in one area - “fill in the blanks” - allowing for an incredible amount of variety and creativity in others.

There’s so much to love about Great God Grove. It’s the perfect example of a handcrafted game through and through, from its striking art style, strange lexicon, brilliant vacuum-based puzzle-solving, and haunting puppet work. There are several important messages to decipher in its surrealism. The game has a lot to say about deviation, power, art, censorship, and how it feels being a loser with no discernable life direction. It's like a kid’s show with an important message at its core, like if Sesame Street wanted to teach you about the manipulative pitfalls of idol worship. In this strange world, even gods fear being forgotten, but GGG won't have that problem as it's hands down one of the boldest games of 2024.

Mask Quest is punitive: I have died hundreds of times while playing it. The one bone it throws you is some extremely generous checkpointing, with rapid reloads, and sometimes this only steepens the failure spirals, as you throw yourself at puzzles that measure victory in pixels. I haven't sworn aloud and ragequit so often for years, and this feels appropriate to a game that systematises injustice so hilariously, so horribly. The best outcome, perhaps, is that you stop trying to have fun and simply acknowledge that what's being asked of you is enormously unkind. [RPS Bestest Bests]

Otherwise, Straftat is a marvellous thing, a grungy, underground virtual LAN party that, in pushing so hard in the opposite direction from big, glossy, team-based shooters, breaks new ground for an older style of gunfest. There have been various attempts to rekindle the arena shooter in the last decade, from Epic’s aborted Unreal Tournament revival, through Doom 2016’s disappointing multiplayer offering, to Bethesda’s more successful spinoff Quake Champions. Straftat, though, outguns them all, huffing casually on its cigarette as it knee-slides into the future. [RPS Bestest Bests]

Besides slitterheads, the biggest enemy was really Bokeh Studios' distrust in you, the player. You're forever told how to go about each challenge because the world isn't malleable enough to entertain your investigative spirit. That's with all the emptiness and the irritants on top, which come together to form a deeply unlikeable game. That's unfortunate, because I do think it has some genuinely impressive ideas and delivers, on occasion, some brief bursts of interesting combat and the occasional nice wander. They're just too few and far between for me to recommend it.

All in all then, I'd best sum up Call Of Duty: Black Ops 6 like this: it's like Call Of Duty. A good one, I think. Not a bad one. If you like Call Of Duty, you will like this. If you don't like Call Of Duty, you will not like this. If you haven't played Call Of Duty in a while but did like Call Of Duty in the past, then you will probably like this. Now imagine me, as I step back into the fog with my M4A1 and disappear into a lobby filled with the wet squelches of a man passionately eating a lasagna too close to his mic. [Multiplayer Review]

There is so much else that is impressive and charming about Veilguard. The absurdly elaborate and expensive finales that cap off companion questlines; lavish, unique areas rolled out for a visit or two then never again. How story moments of real threat and menace stopped me in my tracks, because it turned out that Bioware wasn’t disinterested in this stuff, just saving it for when it really counted. The fantastic prose and worldbuilding in the huge glossary, filled as you find notes and items.

Shadows Of The Damned: Hella Remastered will no doubt please fans of the original, as it doesn't touch the demonic meat and bones of the original besides giving them a bit of a face lift. For those coming in fresh, it's a fairly good time, but only until you start noticing its nastiness. I respect its zaniness and its double-A feel from yesteryear, but I also despise how its characters and its world portray women. I wish that attitude had been tossed in the bin and 'remastered' instead, honestly.

At the end of it all, my decisions in Wilmot's house felt less meaningful, less driven by my internal ideas about the world, less personal, and less rewarding than in our last meeting. It's a quieter game, about turning down the knob in your brain that says "categorise". That makes it both more chill as a task and less interesting as a game. If the Warehouse is a strong mug of hot coffee, Works It Out is a delicate cup of jasmine tea. Both are comforting, but I find one more stimulating than the other.

So no matter if the game's a bit of a grind, it's a rather gorgeous one, all things considered. And I know for certain that if I visit Akita, it'll be impossible not to think of Shin chan... and his bare arse.

And it is a very cool centipede. And next time I’m too burnt out to even exist outside of bed without the effortless structure this game is very good at lending to otherwise dead time, I’m sure I’ll be glad for the additions Vessel Of Hatred makes. It’s just very hard to get excited about, and some real excitement is what Diablo 4 needed. I might well book another ticket the next time a new destination gets added, but I’ll asking for podcast recommendations for the trip.

I am in real danger of sounding ungrateful, because jeopardy was something I wanted more of in Gris. It's present in Neva, but the nuts and bolts need tightening before it hits an Ori And The Blind Forest, game of the year, orchestral tour sort of level of greatness. That aside - which in fairness is quite a big "that" in an action platformer - I think Neva is a step above Gris. The experience as a whole is engaging and bittersweet enough that I'll even forgive the 'it was all a dream' switcheroo.

Relationships don't just encompass those with whom we drink our pumpkin spice lattes, or those we work beside, or take out to the cinema, or plan a roadtrip with. There is meaning in the anecdote you share with a train conductor, the mini-rant about the local council you have with a fellow dog walker, even (god forbid) the blue joke you get from a taxi driver. Kind Words 2 isn't about forming friendships (it admits as much when it asks you never to identify yourself). It isn't even about community, as every live service game seemingly wants to be for its own purposes. It's simply about passing someone in the street, seeing their hurt, and telling them it isn't the end of the world.

Mouthwashing's a hard one to review, namely because I have to dance around the story in fear of spoiling it for you. I hope I've at least got across how it tells the story and how it really is a well-told, succinct descent into a crew's deepest darkest secrets and struggles. Trust me, you'll want to play it in one or two sittings, mainly because you won't be able to peel yourself away from it. The only times you might, are when it doesn't signpost those solutions well enough. Go forth and swill your mouth out with this one, I say.

And so, I have sometimes struggled to enjoy it in the same way as I enjoy written fiction with the same style of storytelling. The longer I spent in James' personal hellscape, the more I could accept it as the video game equivalent of Alisdair Gray's Lanark, but I also don't have the patience to analyse every detail within its 16 to 20-hour story, as some will. And ultimately, I can't help but feel underwhelmed by how much its sacred history has chained this remake down.

If you’re a die-hard survival glutton, and you wait a while for updates, you might find some fun here, since the framework does have those tiny sparks of playful ingenuity I’ve alluded to. Otherwise, uh: game bad. Don’t buy it!

This isn’t a game to mindlessly consume and it’s not going to give you a boost of tasty brain endorphins. Phoenix Springs is a game that demands you slow down, and whose purposefulness will entice some players but put others off. In this way, it feels like an island, entirely its own thing. I don’t completely understand the story - or at least I think I don't - but that’s the point. There are some frustrations with its puzzles, but Phoenix Springs has an incredible point of view and it sticks with it wholeheartedly, and that’s something I can respect the hell out of.

Despite my whining here at the end, I do genuinely believe Metaphor is a very good RPG and a grand adventure absolutely worth undertaking. It's slick in its presentation, in its storytelling, and especially in its combat. Everyone, no matter if you're a strategy god or a story hound will be served a good slice of both, perhaps spurring on more of an interest in the one side you hadn't explored before. And it's a better game than Persona, particularly Persona 5. But I think its focus skews more towards combat and less towards its characters, which makes it more of a thing that you'll put down and go, "that was really great", and not, "I want to exist here forever with my pals".

Ara is an interesting and enjoyable spin on the Civ concept but becomes unwieldy long before it's over. Figuring out how to build a thriving empire will be an enjoyable challenge to people looking for a certain kind of production chain game, but I don't see its malnourished AI and ballooning micromanagement keeping them around once they do.

It’s a bit like Serie A in that way then, is FC25. And while I remain privately furious that the move away from the FIFA licence seems to have left EA without the adequate rights for some of Serie A’s best teams (honestly, you should see the ‘We have AC Milan at home’ travesties in place of the licensed teams), I am pleased to say I’ve had more raw, honest enjoyment with FC25 than I have any of its recent predecessors. Partly because it feels like the PC port got the required amount of love this year, and partly because I feel just slightly more empowered to play a different style of football this year. In my heart of hearts, I know that this inch-by-inch progress doesn’t justify £50 on a ‘new’ game every year. But here I am, playing it anyway and enjoying it like a comfy old favourite jumper that’s just had the elbows repaired.

The big challenge, again, is spicing up the roguelite layer, or perhaps thinning it even further back to the parts that matter. If Breachway can manage that, it will satisfy me more than any chantarelle ever could. [Early Access Review]

Is Grunn for you? Well, do you like the feeling of doing things that took you a long time before, again, but really fast? Do you like weird and delightful discoveries? Do you like going ‘ah!’ really loudly when a mystery clicks together? Do you like dying in various ways and unlocking new endings and knowing to do things a little differently next time around? Do you like knowing how many coins you’ve picked up? Actually, Grunn doesn’t tell you that unless you pick up another coin. That’s annoying, Grunn. Please sort that. Otherwise: Grunnderful stuff. Gnome notes. Dig in.

Yet in all its clockwork detail, I admire it all the same. Buying into its world, bugs and all, has yielded the satisfaction of cases closed and the comedy of killings that completely stumped me. It took me 9 hours just to find the killer of the tutorial mission. For in-game days all I had to go on was an initial - A. Then for more hours, only a first name. After endless dud leads, dopey mishaps, and one bullet in the back by a security guard who found me snooping in her office, I finally found a surname and address for my suspect. I gasped a zealous "gotcha!" at my screen, and understood that something about Shadows Of Doubt felt special. It might not match the prints of the grail-esque single city block. But I think the immersive detective sim has found its first true killer. [RPS Bestest Bests]

All I’ll say is that defeating the Shogun is far from the end, with more difficult challenges awaiting those brave enough to venture forth after the titular ruler is toppled. Even then, there are always new tactics to discover, new toys to play with, and new characters to be trialled on the battlefield. I fear my time with the game is far from over (complimentary). [RPS Bestest Bests]

Coming off of playing hundreds of hours of the sprawling Elden Ring, particularly the DLC, it was refreshing to play a Soulslike with a more manageable length and back to basics approach. The unusual setting and beautiful, appropriately shortcut-stuffed environments were a delight to adventure through. While you have to actively embrace the intricacies of the systems on offer, they’re smart, inventive, and I hope to see some of the ideas built on in the future. Enotria is the epitome of the AA game, with all the good and bad that comes with it.

As someone who doesn't really get on with the source material, I find myself warmed by Disney Epic Mickey: Rebrushed. It's not all that challenging and sometimes a bit eh, but I liked that easygoing nature more than I resented it. You're free to splosh paint around and stumble into cool mechanical puzzles or simply remove the floor from an enemy and watch them plunge to their death. And while some of the side quests and optional tidbits don't amount to much more than, at most, an end credit sequence, I admire its adventurous spirit. You can tell it tries to do things a bit differently to the usual platformer and for the most part, it works.

The cracks in its facade are stark because it’s otherwise such an incredibly vivid work, and the life breathed into it by its animators, artists, and actors is potent enough to survive some deeply odd writing and tonal choices. There’s a wonderful story, I’m sure, to be told about Kratos’s journey from destroyer to conciliator - the glimpses at mythological wonders that are allowed to exist in his presence without getting suplexed into paste here are stunning - this one just feels like it skipped a few steps.

It's a lavishly made and occasionally engrossing epic, definitely a game you'll relish more if, unlike the average reviewer, you can afford to take your time. But it doesn't have the wackiness and starpower of its most obvious rivals, the Final Fantasy 7 remakes. Its major characters would be bit-parts in Midgar, filling out the crowd at Seventh Heaven. Jill is the lady by the jukebox trying not to get mistaken for a mop. Cid makes for a captivating presence behind the bar, but he's clocking off early tonight. And Clive? Clive is that woebegone regular who's sort of a hit with the ladies but who insists on telling everybody about his domestic quarrels and who just won't sodding leave.

I want to love Frostpunk 2, and I think that's precisely why so much of this review is negative. It deserves recognition for the courage to push into something new rather than play it safe. It's far more compelling, interesting, and super atmospheric than its peers, but that ambition has cost it a singular intensity and focus that leaves its fresh narrative and design too contradictory to carry it to the same heights.

I do feel a bit bad about ragging on The Plucky Squire, a game that's ultimately a fairly fun, inoffensive time and absolutely meant for people who aren't as ailing as me. Its energy is great and upbeat and lovely - a perfect balm in the face of today's horribleness. But I do think it suffers from trying to do lots of things and getting a bit lost within them (for what it's worth, I think it would've done better fleshing out the word-chopping ability, as it really can feel magical sometimes). The combat is fine, the platforming is fine, mostly everything feels just fine. And necessary restrictions on your ability usage means that you're always hunting for a one-note solution, as opposed to feeling like you're really altering the narrative. Even games 'meant for kids' still have those deeper layers beneath the simplistic surfaces, where the creativity of teens aren't underestimated and the oldies can flex their mastery muscles. Scratch away the ink and I don't think there's much beneath The Plucky Squire, sadly.

Coziness is a choice, though, and Tiny Glade initially reminded me of that old quote from Ford about the Model T - you know, the fact that the car came in any colour you wanted as long as it was black. For my first few hours I worried that Tiny Glade offered any vista as long as it was twee. But the more I play, the more I’m sure that’s not really true. My personal limits are tweeness, but I'm inclined to believe that’s me rather than the game. To put it another way, I can’t wait to see what real talent does with this lovely thing.

There’s an undeniable air of gorgeous, faint melancholy that the game does lean into instead of trying to scrub out. I don’t want to spoil too much about the frogs, but learning about their place as the natives of the planet is a real highlight. The main thing I’d like to impart here, though (especially if you’re growing somewhat wary of self-conscious ‘cosyness’) is there’s some real thought and craft gone into how to create an experience that’s a genuinely relaxing, pleasant place to spend time, while still being nifty and satisfying as a mini-open world game. It is - a thousand words later - a nice time.

My overwhelming impression is of a game that wants to set its own pace, its own "high noon" rhythm. And I quite liked that. As a roguelike its quirks will either endear you to it or make you grimace in mild frustration. Its up-and-down pacing, both on and off the battlefield, makes it hard to recommend to people who like their roguelikes snappy. And while I thoroughly enjoyed the cowboy chatter, it might grate on anyone who wants to hurry up and hit the next showdown. It's a slow burn and the opening hour doesn't communicate the intention particularly well. But as anyone who has really tried cooking beans over a fire can testify, once they're warm, they're just fine.

Devil's Hideout still has a compelling atmosphere that makes me overlook its flaws. In its most evocative moments, it reminded me of a Stephen King story, and I'm not just referring to the Pennywise cameo. A city that's lost all of its wholesome Americana and fallen to evil is simply something that King would write about, though Devil's Hideout would probably be one of those '80s King paperbacks where he was coked up and in need of a better editor. Like Kathy Rain, another point and click that had a lot of random horror stuff happening behind the scenes, I feel like Devil's Hideout could benefit from a director's cut at a later date to help flesh out the bits I liked and hammer down the parts I didn't. There's tremendous potential at play in the alleyways of this urban hell, in other words, and even if it was imperfect, I finished Devil's Hideout wanting more - which is not something I've ever desired from an abandoned American city ever before.

Will Smite fans be pleased with the current state of Smite 2? I think so, though you should probably ask one of them. Should non-Smiters check out this sequel? Maybe, if you reckon you’ll play enough to get past the phase where you’re nearly always dunked on. With the currently small hero pool, it’s probably best to get on board soon - though the current lack of tutorials means you’ll have to do your own homework. Should you all be playing Deadlock instead? Yes. Right now Smite 2 is fine, but it doesn’t feel like the future. [Early Access Review]

In short, this is a hulking jaunt through a gauntlet of scum, traitors, filth, and heretics. The social landscape of 40K's galactic hellwar is fuelled primarily by hatred and secondarily by a twisted sense of honour. And it's so overblown it is often Verhoeveningly funny. But within the confines of its own delightful cesspit, the story does its job. It gives us an excuse to see a chaos demon smashing the graves of a thousand unknown souls to pieces. The guns 'n' galumphing likewise serves its weighty purpose. From the perspective of an outsider, this is a well-crafted third-person action game with a story somewhat bloated with lore. From the perspective of a fan, it may be pure ambrosia.

A game that's much more about the 'trucker' of it all than the stars, but the trucker of it all really does shine. When you exit the airlock to patch up hull breaches, little white spanner icons mark the offending damage. The symbol that marks the airlock to return to your truck is a home. I noticed it early, and then I kept noticing it. The more I did, the more perfect it felt.

For those who prefer their logistical twiddling to be more abstract and neat, this isn't going to tear you away from the factory lines of Shapez 2. But it might be worth a pop for those who prefer their number-fiddling to be wrapped up in a thematic purpose. It doesn't have the moral compassing nor the defined flavour of Frostpunk (which, for me, remains the more eye-catching post-apocalyptic city builder). But it does enough with its humble scavengers and salvaging expeditions to at least invest you in the populace as a whole. Even if that concern is always attached to a selfish desire to avoid resources plummeting. [Early Access Review]

At present, Stormgate is a potentially good game that makes a poor first impression. Six missions, only three of which are playable for free, makes neither a good campaign nor a good deal, while the game's most interesting factions are hidden away in the multiplayer, where you need to do a lot of on-the-spot learning to get the most out of them. All that said, I don't think it's a game anybody should write off. Behind its blandifying art style is a very tactically chewy strategy game. If you're a fan of the genre and have friends who are likewise, there's good fun to be had in its 1v1 multiplayer, which I should stress costs nothing to try out. [Early Access Review]

It can be very endearing in these smaller moments, but it still all feels bit false, a bit watery. And it manages to draw out tedium at times that should be breezy.

Once again, I've yet to play a SteamWorld game I didn't like. SteamWorld Heist 2 is not bucking that trend. After 15 hours I still haven't finished it, but my endgame sense is tingling and I'm eager to see it through. If I was asked to name the most reliably entertaining franchise in video games today, I would perhaps point to Thunderful's toybox and say simply: "Them 'uns". These games know what they're doing, they communicate it succinctly, and most importantly, they let the player happily move on when the game is finished. These are not games of "endless replayability", they are toys of endful playability, of conclusiveness, closure and clemency. If switching off after reaching an "ending" in a piece of Destiny 2 DLC is like finishing a McDonalds yet feeling hungry again two hours later, then watching the credits roll on a SteamWorld game is like finishing a decent home cooked meal and walking away full of unthinking contentment. I'm keen to keep sailing north, find a homey pub on the horizon, and eat that final dish.

It’s not free of issues. Necro-surgeon Dessa Banks has an ability that’s so universally useful I ended up anchoring my plays with it for a good stretch, and it wasn’t even the one where she can resurrect people by shooting them. The ending missions prioritise story setpieces over the final exam gauntlet I was hoping for, and I found myself drifting toward autopilot even a few missions before those. There’s probably one too many fat smears of frosting in the conspiratorial layercake plot to comfortably keep track of your first time through. But the fact I’m even excited about a second playthrough of a 15 hour game I played for work should hopefully convey something. This very moment, I keep diving back in to check details and grab screens, and end up replaying entire missions. There’s more! Survival maps. Optional puzzles. The same level editor the developer has, with the option to share your maps with others online. Hard mode. Is this all window dressing? Maybe. But man, what an absolute treat of a window. Do say "hi" on your way down.

Black Myth: Wukong is a triumph. A surprising triumph in the sense that I can't quite believe it's as good as its drip feed of screens and trailers looked over the last few years. It's a generous Soulsy adventure hybrid that works within its limitations and delivers a beautiful challenge to be unpicked with a magical toolbox. Arguably, I'd say Black Myth's world sucked me in more than Elden Ring and Lies Of P, probably more so than anything I've played in ages! This is Game Science bursting onto the scene and saying: "You've got competition". And hey, I'm listening. You should be, too.

I wouldn't normally be so specific about a puzzle, but that moment was less a Crimson Diamond and more a White Whale that I would hate to see anyone else chasing. Otherwise I think The Crimson Diamond is a beautiful piece of work, combining a love letter to the past with a modern implementation, all wrapped up in a mystery that may not have huge, shocking twists, but remains a page turner throughout. And there are bonus geology facts, too! Consider PLAYING THE GAME.

I'm not sure The Crush House is enjoyable, beyond the opening thrill of wielding the lens and toying with the systems, but it is enlightening. It is a triumphant performance of dystopia, one that concentrates the understanding rather than merely wallowing in the shit. It takes enormous insight to make something this ugly.

Consider the real promise of the game then, the underlying fantasy. How thoroughly can you make this talking rat regret its life choices? That’s still a fantastic sell.

The biggest concern for anyone eagerly anticipating this sequel (hi, Graham) is that it can't keep up with the frenetic creativity of the original. And I can safely confirm that this is not a problem for Goo 2. If you were after another silly ride in a lazy river of black gunge, then jump on in. The goo's fine.

By the time its end was away, I was convinced that Thank Goodness You're Here! deserves its place among the canon of British comedy, particularly that which celebrates the bumpkins of our better selves, from Wodehouse to Wallace & Gromit to the Cornetto trilogy. Heck, I haven't even mentioned that it's got Matt Berry doing voices in it. Send it to an American in your life, to show them there's more on our list of cultural exports than irony and failed politicians.

This is the sweetness, I think, that consistently balances out everything that's creepy in this stretch of midnight countryside: along with the promise of cryptids and photo assignments and local cultists and satanic graffiti, Krypta FM promises community, and creates a growing sense of belonging. The names on the forums start to become familiar, and I begin to be able to anticipate the things they might say, the replies they might leave under my posts. The map slowly starts to make sense, and by day three, say, I'm leaving the house pretty confident in the direction I should be headed in. Photo objectives are ticked off my list and the story of what's truly going on out there starts to come into focus. I go to bed buzzing at what I've seen, and the next day, at ten past nine, I'm ready to turn on the radio again and hear that familiar voice.

I do think it's great that Capcom have released a weird, sometimes wonderful tower defence/ action RPG hybrid with such strong early-millennium vibes. And I think some will find its micromanagement more compelling than I did, with base repairs and the gradual power climb forming an easy way to spend an evening with an average-to-good video game. And yet, I also think many will find its take on tower defence only half-delivers. It might be full of distinct elements that often work together, be they base-building or hack 'n' slashing, but as a whole, it falls into a repetitive rhythm that struggles to capture the joys and thrills of much simpler tower defence games.

This game is still worth playing for classic adventure fans, if only to see an indie dev passionately channel the spirit of Sierra's yesteryear in a way that tips a hat to Space Quest while not quite being a Space Quest fangame. In a world where SpaceVenture, the spiritual successor to Space Quest crafted by the original Two Guys from Andromeda, crashed and burned in truly epic fashion, we could use more games like Tachyon Dreams Anthology. I wouldn't mind seeing more of Dodger - perhaps in a focused sequel that sees him abandoning his dishwashing roots and embracing his destiny as an unassuming guardian of the galaxy, just like his grandpa Roger Wilco did before him.

In general Arranger is an imaginative, cheerful, funny game that doesn't outstay its welcome. I think it'll provide a great challenge for puzzle enthusiasts, but it's kind enough to throw at someone who is only just getting into them. In specific, I still haven't been able to solve the optional mine puzzles. But that just makes me want to try again.

It can be tricky to assess the balance in a genre that relies on making you feel hopeless, threatened and, yes, a little bit tilted occasionally. Resources feel plentiful, initially, and so I feasted until famine struck and I had to abandon my first run, which honestly just made me respect Conscript more for committing to it. If this isn’t your bag, there’s four difficulty settings, plus options to enable checkpoints and unlimited saves - in saferooms still, but without needing to use an ink consumable. Also included are mainstays like playthrough ranks and unlockable costumes. And - ohoho! - an honest-to-god digital manual, complete with a blank notes page. Love it. The way I just structured that paragraph now necessitates I make it clear I’m not just saying this because of the manual, but: Conscript is good survival horror. Fill your boots. Check for rats first though, innit.

There’s a climactic rush at the end of the game’s 20-hour runtime, but for the majority, Dungeons of Hinterberg is wonderfully laid-back. There are so many games that romanticize leaving your busy life and escaping to the wilderness, but here the topic is explored in an authentic and genuine way. There’s a lesson here about how rest is fundamental to health and happiness, but I also love how the game communicates that. It’s a gentle, reflective fantasy adventure that’ll have you reaching for your hiking boots.

In practise mine was an entirely solo flight, but I enjoyed it. It's a little repetitive, there are some slight snags where the game might forget that you already hit that story beat and makes you do it again, but Flock is full of good-humour, freedom, and playfulness. It's the sort of thing you wouldn't play all the time, but could check in with after a long day. Tomorrow, you think, I must have a job where I email people. But tonight, I will hunt for that elusive Sprug that pretends to be a fruit.

There's a moment in the second major region when you find yourself at the summit of what is effectively a massive slide, a giddy slope among cliffs thickly lined with rotting crossbowmen. I whooped and slithered all the way to the campsite at the bottom, then located a skull plinth and set about cleansing the heights and discovering more plinths, till at last I could traverse the whole mountainside without getting my feet dirty. It provoked an emotion I hadn't quite felt in Flintlock before: not just admiration of the sturdy craft on show, but delight.

It all ends up feeling like someone pushed a cult classic console gem through a shredder and filled in the space between the strips with silica gel and sausage rusk and self-assessment forms. But its saving grace lies in the fact that it doesn’t feel cynical as much as it feels adherent, almost like its trapped under a pile of norms and necessaries needed for it to exist in the first place. Maybe you'll fancy enduring long enough to find the places where it pokes its curious little head out from under that rubble. The little robot was for mining ore, by the way, so it might help.

And while I wouldn't say the tricks (or the levels themselves) develop a great deal over the course of the game, these are small gripes in the grand scheme. It's just really nice to inhabit the world of a shadowy amphibian and observe our everyday world of material objects as spots to hunker in or paths to exploit. I don't think the relative ease of the puzzling should put people off, either. Instead, it's a journey worth embracing and a comforting reminder that there's always something watching out for us: frogs.

I consider this a kind of grimly hilarious manifestation in the vein of an Alan Moorish act of chaotic development magick, minus the part where the art actually has anything of substance to say about literally anything. That’s fine! Substance isn't always necessary. Those doors were substantial, and you saw what happened to them, didn’t you? Sometimes what Anger Foot does offer is worse than nothing, mind. The concept for the final boss (‘unholy corpulence') is effectively “lol, fat.” You’re funnier than that, mates. I know you are because I’ve just played your game. He keeps trying to knock you into a pool of molten cheese, but this is weak sauce.

When the term "juice" (or "game feel" as it's more ofen called today) was casually coined, it was offered as a reminder to make games pleasing in the hands and eyes and ears of players, so that the player might become more present, more grounded, even in an unreal space. Zenless Zone Zero uses these same principles to encourage the player to live too often in a menu screen. To me it feels like a deeply superficial world. A really cool pair of shoes that sit around in your home, looking great yet going unused because they are uncomfortable and impractical to actually wear.

But these complaints are but drops of bumwater in an otherwise tranquil and deeply invigorating guzzle of videogame. Nine Sols simply would not stop delighting me every couple of screens with a new set piece, or some gorgeous background, or a brand new weirdo to chat with, or another revelation about its dark, enchanting world. Or, yes, a blisteringly difficult combat encounter that lets you feel every bit the skillful murder mox. ‘Taopunk’ is how the game describes itself. I’ve always loved such philosophy for how it never purports to have the answers, simply that it’s a toolset to find them yourself - to point the way to the moon without asking you to praise its pointing finger. Nine Sols pointed out the fun in a whole new genre for me, but I suspect I’ll still be thinking fondly of its weird mox paws for some time.

It's disappointing that there are only three maps (no random maps at present), and the new themed buildings are usable only when map editing. I imagine its thriving mod scene will fill in those gaps. Biomes is a nice bonus. A bit underwhelming if you want to go all in, but completely skippable if you're fine with the default setting. Thus: it's fine, with potential to become more appealing over time. [RPS Bestest Bests]

Me? I loved this expansion, I really did. But I'm happy Elden Ring is done and it's a reminder that I'd like FromSoftware to move Souls in a different direction. An even trimmer direction, perhaps. I can recall Bloodborne and Dark Souls as neat packages of horror, but Elden Ring and Erdtree? I'm unsure whether they'll stick with me quite the same.

However you might step away from the rig, I stepped away rattled, impressed, and hungry for more horror as solid as this. It may not revolutionise the genre in any mechanical sense (even that "look behind you" button is something from the Outlast series) but it does set a bar for groundedness and naturalistic voice acting. More Scottish horror? Aye, make it first-person anaw.

I wanted to make Pavol my own a little more than the game let me. He’s an alcoholic in prose, but rarely ever in deed. Different types of collectable spirits are plentiful, and I think I expected him to get the shakes after a while, performing worse in combat if I didn’t keep him topped up, but no such fun. The grime and the death and the RPG combat, and especially an early encounter that killed me right at the beginning, put me in mind of the Fear and Hunger games. I think Felvidek would have benefitted from a bit more of this deadly choose-your-own-demise sadism, but on reflection, only on the replay. What you get instead is a perfectly formed and paced single viewing, told by a black humoured, bawdy bard who weeps in secret at night over the inevitable decay of everything, but never drops the shit-eating grin for a second.

For an early access release, Selaco is in a really good state. You've got a lengthy campaign comprising 30 maps and plenty more to go with it, weapon and enemy-wise. There are modifiers that make subsequent playthroughs harder, too, like one that makes you start over from scratch after beating a level. And everything feels polished - I didn't encounter any hitches or bugs at all. The devs say they're aiming for Selaco's 1.0 release sometime in early 2026, but honestly, it's worth getting on now if you're a fan of good FPSing. [Early Access Review]

I'm super into it. It's crunchy but friendly, playfully secretive, and familiar in many ways but nonetheless refreshing. I lost half a day to "fact checking and screenshots" for sheer desire to keep playing, and a few minor issues aside, my only real problem is that there's only one of it.

I’m not sure I have a grand theory about how games writing should be done, but I do think we should strive less to convince the doubtful that ‘games are more than just toys’ and more time celebrating the fact that toys can be awesome and incredibly complex and worthwhile things. Besiege is a fantastic toy - which is to say it's an awesome and incredibly complex and worthwhile thing - and Splintered Sea is more of that, but with boats and sharks. Also a giant squid at one point. It’s great and I love it. Seven out of six point five thoroughly shivered timbers.

I urge you to give this game a go, I get this deep satisfaction from parting the curtains. Don't sleep on Hauntii, for goodness sake. [RPS Bestest Bests]

I like Hellblade 2, and without wishing to sound churlish, I'd definitely give it a whirl if I had a Game Pass subscription. But in a month that's included Animal Well and Crow Country and Cryptmaster and Little Kitty, Big City and Dread Delusion and Indika and Lorelei and the Laser Eyes, dropping fifty notes on this shiny but safe sequel just seems daft. Amid such a cornucopia of imagination, Hellblade 2 needed to be more than just more Hellblade, to elevate the ideas of the first game and build them out. But for all its technical wizardry and narrative worth, more Hellblade is exactly what Hellblade 2 is.

If this sort of management game is your jam, then Galacticare will go very well on your toast.

For me, it feels like Neurodiver only wants to flirt with my disbelief, rather than commit to suspending it.

Mullet Mad Jack ia a simple, stylised crash through a lot of corridors and even if it's not going to blow you away, I'd absolutely recommend it to anyone who enjoys speed with their violence. There's additional difficulties if you're after a challenge and an Endless mode, too, if you want to see how high you can climb against random enemies and stage layouts. Mullets are very much in.

Art nice. Game not nice. Maybe you’ll make a beautiful origami swan out of it, but all I ended up with was a pile of origami boulders.

Homeworld 3 leaves me in the strange position where I want to play more of it, but I’ve basically had my fill of the campaign, I’ve got no interest in PvP, and War Games mode is silly difficult in single player. It’s like having a set of really nice brushes but no canvas, so to speak. I guess this is probably where mods come in - the game is supposed to be launching with built in support and tools on day one. I get that "It’ll be great with mods" doesn’t come across as a ringing endorsement, but to reiterate: Homeworld 3 is a pretty good time in a very good sci-fi setting. I can’t recommend it wholeheartedly, but I’m also hoping it finds enough of an audience that it paves the way for a more experimental sequel or expansion in the future - and if you've been longing for 21 years for a followup to Homeworld 2, I can’t see you being too disappointed.

I have no idea what Berger would make of Animal Well, or of representations of animals in videogames at large, but Basso's game feels like a gentle, cyberpunky rebuttal of his conclusions. It takes the idea that animal images have excluded animals as its premise, and explores how our technologies of knowledge-making and representation may have become animalistic in response. Above all, the game's confusing, hybrid creatureliness comes across in how these animals sound. Sometimes they cry out like beasts that are turning into software, with moans and yaps and howls and hisses that appear to have been relentlessly resampled and distorted. And sometimes, they cry out like software that has grown bestial and unruly for being left too long underground. [RPS Bestest Bests]

So while it's a less difficult take on a Resident Evil-ish formula, I don't think it's less good. The emphasis is more on the puzzles than the survival, but the attention to detail in the sound design, the excellent planning of the map, and the creepy story and setting, are accompanied with a wink at the camera now and then that really put a shine on Crow Country. It's knowing as well as very good, and I had an excellent time at Crow Country (though would not give it a recommend on trip advisor if you're after a family holiday).

The ending is a good payoff to a sweet story, with plenty of chuckles and surprises along the way.

Phantom Fury sometimes falters in its basic elements (and it can be a little buggy too - fair warning) but its devotion to detail is so laudable I don't care. Chekhov said that if you have a prop on stage, then that prop must serve a purpose to the story. Hemmingway said, nah, that's bollocks, inconsequential details are important. Phantom's Fury feels like the latter; a devotee of inconsequential gizmos. Its clocks are fully animated gif timepieces. Its cream-coloured PCs make clicking hard drive noises when you switch them on. And, very importantly, its toilets flush.