With environmental challenges and enigmatic folds in the landscape to explore, the end of ILA: A Frosty Glide feels earned. I congratulated myself on reaching the mountain tops and, basking in that accomplishment, felt all the more struck by the emotional peak.

Even though I am satisfied with the way my adventure wrapped up, it’s difficult to resist the urge to jump back in for another round to watch the pieces fall into totally different places.

Over the course of multiple, inventive chapters, I unravel why I’ve been gifted these weird abilities, how they came to be in the first place, and the conspiracy that connects everything together. While at times the more juvenile dialogue — and one, slightly frustrating, area — had me worried the game’s threads wouldn’t stitch together in a completely satisfying way, RE:CALL stuck the landing. In its customary fashion, the ending is dominated by a choice, which means different possible conclusions. But whichever way the player leans, this is a game well worth experiencing.

The culmination of the roughly hour-and-a-half-long game is a concert that plays on my heartstrings. The Forest Quartet is not an overly deep game to dive into, but its brief playtime explores heavy, and relatable, themes with grace.

Super Meat Boy 3D isn’t Shakespeare — it’s main antagonist is named Dr. Fetus, afterall — but I found its platforming puzzles to be largely solid across the board and I was impressed by its adherence to the idea that the game will happily beat you down, but the way back up from that is through perserverence. Perserverence that it’s happy to show you that you posses by watching your level replays.

While the nuances of Ra Ra BOOM’s combat and difficulty are things that stuck out to me, I was willing to forgive a lot thanks to its presentation. The voice acting is great, and the characters frequently sound off during fights to discuss their unique perspective on the world as teenagers who never got to grow up on Earth. There’s a real charm to the game with its catchy title music, appealing art style, and premise that leans on the best aspects of nostalgia without needing to wallow in it. Instead, it uses nostalgia as a jumping-off point to create something entirely new with classic tropes.

Nine hours after reaching a ramshackle stump in the woods, I’d transformed my home into a cheerful shelter. Filled with well-earned comforts gathered from across varied landscapes and friends’ warm regards. Its intentional approachability can err on the side of feeling too easy, but the constant, looming danger of winter goes a long way towards balancing the scales. Still, the only thing I want to do right now is return to my roaring fireplace and brave the frosts in Winter Burrow.

There’s no fairy-tale ending waiting for our frostbitten heroes, but the conclusion is satisfying and stirring. Its gameplay may not always rival the exquisite visuals, but Blanc is a wonderful experience to share with a partner.

Open Roads has the writing and narrative most games only dream of. I felt for and felt like the protagonist and her mom throughout the journey, sympathizing with their human struggles. The hand-drawn art blended with 3D environments is flawless, even if that’s sometimes hard to focus on with the game’s few technical rough patches. The title, though short, is full of twists, turns, and authenticity.

I was never overly invested in the narrative and the golden path is rarely groundbreaking. However, the community is endearing even if they can’t seem to figure out any problem without me. They give me a reason to jump back into an enticing environment which I relish just existing in. Purpose-driven players may not find what they’re looking for in the cozy folds of Bywater. If you’re searching for a game where you can stop, smell the roses, wander through the fields, and dive into a pleasingly simple life, Tales of the Shire is for you.

It’s a touching ending that deftly works with the whimsical parts of the game rather than against them. I roll credits thinking over how much play brings us together — a theme near and dear to anyone that writes about video games for a living — and I can’t wait to jump back into the world. Luckily, the developers give players new tools to make Lil Gator Game‘s post-game even more enjoyable, and I pick up my comical sword once more.

The world outside is aesthetically irresistible. Chunky, nostalgic pixels make up the walkways, houses, and characters around the block. While swaying grass and flowing rivers take a strikingly contrasting 3D form. Everything is pulled together with a black and white color scheme, making it all feel like a memory rather than something happening here and now.

It’s difficult to wrap my mind around The Wreck. Even after finishing it, my thoughts keep coming back to chord-striking moments. Absorbed in these tableaux, the game’s problems fall away. But it’s difficult to imagine recommending it to any but the most ardent adventure game fans or story-driven players.

And Roger took me from fear to joy to heartbreak, landing somewhere close to bittersweet as the credits rolled. It’s constantly shifting controls not only replicate the characters’ inner feeling admirably, but also manage to tell me what to do without saying a word. Everyone should take the time to experience this game for themselves. Just be sure to have tissues on hand.