If Lucille, late blues icon B.B. King’s immortalized guitar, could talk… oh, the stories she could tell! Francesca, WWE wrestler Xavier Woods’ trombone, is a famed character unto herself in pro wrestling lore. I named my #1 bass guitar Hepzibah. We’ve had many adventures together, and she’s even had some interesting adventures without me that I wish she could tell me. If you’ve ever talked soothingly to your car while wrenching on it, view your go-to chef’s knife as a beloved companion or loyal friend more than a mere tool, then Date Everything! might be for you. Date Everything! is a game where saying, “I have a date with my couch” literally means going on a date with your couch. Date Everything! is as delightfully wacky as it sounds and I approve of this nonsense!

Date Everything! is a sandbox-style dating sim where you walk around your house, interact with various objects who manifest into human-esque dateable beings (some of whom require point-and-click style problem solving to find), talk to five of these characters a day, and build personal and relationship stats through your interactions. Time of day plays a part in interactions as well, so keep note of characters’ schedules. The game’s nonlinear nature means that storytelling often feels out of order, particularly when various characters’ stories intertwine, but it’s nothing astute gamers can’t wrap their heads around.

Date Everything! has a silly-yet-amusing overarching narrative and multiple endings, including variations of “leave early” endings you can initiate at almost any time (I can’t call these bad endings, especially since my favorite version did not feel “bad”). Date Everything! is more about the journey than the destination, though. How you journey through the game, exposing the myriad characters and watching their dramas unfold, is up to you.

100 objects in the Date Everything! house, from physical objects like your desk to conceptual ones like existential dread, all transform into the various characters. With so many characters to interact with—all possessing an array of personalities, body types, genders/gender identities, ethnicities, and other traits— everyone will find favorites. Not every character is deep or even likeable, and some carry surprising baggage. Regardless, they all come to life thanks to Date Everything!’s golden combination of compelling writing and expert voice acting. The game issues content warnings (that also offer the option to skip story paths with no penalties) throughout. It’s possible to turn them off, but I kept them on because Felicia Day’s character narrates them, and who doesn’t want more Felicia Day?

Each character arc in Date Everything! has three possible outcomes: Love, Friendship, or Hate. Most are fairly short, so the game encourages you to, literally, “date” (befriend or hate) everything. Hate outcomes still award the game’s equivalent of experience points but lock out the best possible ending. I did not mind getting a few Hate endings and just moved on to other characters before trying new things in New Game +. Date Everything! is designed to be a low-stress, go-with-the-flow experience, unlike, say, Clannad, where it’s tempting to save scum because mucking up the most obscure and minuscule courses of action collapses intended paths like a game of Jenga. Think of Date Everything! like a Suikoden game in that you don’t need to collect all 108 stars of destiny to get a good ending.

The cozy, first-person, 3D polygon house you navigate looks decent, but the visual highlights are all the lushly drawn, energetically designed, and delightfully expressive character portraits. Artist Erin Wong brought her A-game with Date Everything!’s remarkably varied ensemble cast. Characters generally have a more Western comic-style look, but their design accoutrements have campy, anything-goes, anime flair. For example, I liked one character’s rockabilly/psychobilly mohawk hairstyle made of book pages. I was always giddy to discover new characters, and even those I didn’t care much for looked amazing.

I am an absolute sucker for soundtracks with character themes and Date Everything! has over 100 character themes! Not only that, but every character theme is quite good. Character themes perfectly encapsulate their respective characters through many genres and styles of music. I felt the heart and soul that the team of composers and musicians put into the music. I cannot tell you my favorite pieces because that would reveal characters you should discover for yourself. Given that Date Everything! is the brainchild of a voice actor collective and features an Avengers: Endgame gathering of apex voice actors (all from our favorite games and other multimedia), words cannot describe how epically awesome the acting is.

As good as Date Everything! is, it suffers from suboptimal controls. Walking around the house feels slippery, and navigating menus feels clunky with a gamepad. The play controls and menu interface are better optimized for WASD + mouse usage. The default button/key mapping is not my favorite, and I badly wanted to remap the keyboard hotkeys and gamepad buttons to my liking. Even a simple option to swap WASD with the arrow keys to accommodate lefties would be welcome. With so much love and thought put into Date Everything!’s other components, it’s a shame that play control received so little. 

Date Everything! is more than the sum of its individual components. It may not have the best graphics, gameplay, control, or story, but the heart, soul, and addictiveness of Date Everything! cannot be codified into numerical scores and categories. Simply put, Date Everything! rocked my world more than I expected it to; I spent more time playing it than I care to admit. It’s not a game for everyone, but if it’s your cup of tea, you will drink it with gusto.    

In 2011, Deus Ex: Human Revolution revitalized a franchise, garnering heavy praise yet alienating fans of the original who sought a faithful “immersive sim” follow-up. Two years later, Deus Ex: Human Revolution Director’s Cut launched to PC and all current consoles, including the series’ first foray into Nintendo territory (Wii U). This Director’s Cut added the standalone Missing Link DLC into the full product, refined some key dialogue and boss sequences, and cleaned up some other loose ends with combat and animation quality. In my opinion, it’s the definitive version of the game to play.

Regardless of the version you’re playing, however, questions remain: did this game stand the test of time? How does Human Revolution fare when playing it in the year 2025?

Honestly, I’d say it’s pretty swell! Mission-based action RPGs have certainly grown as a genre since 2011, so at times, I find myself imagining alternative mechanics and branching narratives that would make for a better experience today. Nonetheless, I enjoyed my brief return to Detroit, Hengsha, and Panchaea.

As I explored the world of DX:HR, I couldn’t help but think of the timeline built by this franchise. The original Deus Ex takes place in the year 2052. As a prequel, Human Revolution jumps back to 2027. Among the settings in this gritty dystopia, few predictions have come to pass. Mechanical and neurological augmentation is largely hypothetical and nothing like the unregulated mess and us/them dynamics of this series. Though we have anti-vaxxers in our post-COVID world who refer to themselves proudly as pure bloods, the idea that an mRNA vaccine is tantamount to a visit to a DX:HR LIMB clinic seems laughable to me.

Additionally, much as large language models boast impressive features and can serve as useful tools, I don’t think ChatGPT and its ilk can hold a candle to the global media-controlling AI, Picus Media’s Eliza Cassan. If we move from LLM to AGI in the next two years, I’d be shocked.

There is also the cute reference to Final Fantasy in-game. DX:HR came to us after Square Enix acquired Eidos, so the team was able to pull a few fun references. You may run across a poster for a Final Fantasy XXVII within the game’s environs, . Yes, that’s right, twenty-seven. Square Enix is ten entries behind the aggressive fictional timeline.

My desire to analyze the game’s timeline and prognostications derives from the game’s poignant insights into the human condition. Though critics over the years have chided the game’s narrative for waxing philosophical and on-the-nose preaching about humanity’s perch on the precipice, I found myself enjoying the tale told here more than memories of my first playthrough (in 2013) suggested I should.

Beyond the grand narrative, there are the smaller stories, the character interactions, the chapter arcs and side stories. I find myself particularly drawn to the iconic voice of protagonist Adam Jensen, portrayed by Elias Toufexis. And I’m not talking about the meme-worthy line “I never asked for this,” though that is undoubtedly a great delivery. Toufexis’ delivery is at its best during the lengthy persuasion dialogues, with my favorites being the interactions between Jensen and his boss, David Sarif (voiced by Stephen Shellen), and the climactic dialogue between Jensen and Hugh Darrow (voiced by Arthur Holden). Somehow, these dialogue sequences are more impressive to me now than they were in 2013. The dialogue and the delivery stand apart from most sci-fi and fantasy games and are on par with Geralt of Rivia (Doug Cockle) in The Witcher and Clive Rosfield (Ben Starr) in Final Fantasy XVI. If you’re wondering how I determined a sound subscore above 90%, it wasn’t just the music. In fact, much as I appreciate the Deus Ex: Human Revolution Original Soundtrack, I think it is precisely the voice acting that elevates the listening experience.

As an aside, I’ll note that I saw Toufexis’ name crop up in my most recent watch on Netflix: season 3 of Blood of Zeus. I’d forgotten that Elias Toufexis plays the role of Seraphim, one of the lead characters in that show. He did a great job there, but in my mind, Toufexis is inexorably linked with the voice of Adam Jensen.

Graphically, DX:HR holds up fairly well for a game released the same year as Skyrim. One thing that strikes me about the visual experience in 2025 is that the pre-rendered, recorded cutscenes sometimes look outdated compared to the in-game graphics if you’re playing at the highest settings with a high-end PC. In the realm of PC gaming, it’s understandable how this can happen, but even so, I imagine it’s somewhat rare.

When I put the intricate story aside and focused on the mission ahead of me, I found the game just as fun and enjoyable as I had long ago. Yes, the “stick-to-wall” phenomenon with taking cover can feel a little clunky. But once you get used to it, this is a great game for stealth experience. I should note, when I first played, I went after all of the achievements, requiring multiple playthroughs with differing goals. A pacifist playthrough was hard enough, but for my money, the greatest challenge was Foxiest of the Hounds, a stealth-related achievement for never tripping any alarms or allowing any guards to activate alarms. Back then, I found this achievement a frustrating-but-fair experience. This time around? I gave it a go in the first two combat settings, then switched up to a sort of berserker play mode, the opposite of stealth. This approach only works on the easiest difficulty setting, but it was a great deal of fun!

I had forgotten just how big and how small DX:HR was — environs that feel an inch wide, though the player can dig a mile deep. The game’s first open environment is the city of Detroit. You have limited access across a relatively small area, though there is something to be said for traversing different heights as well. Alongside the main quest, you gain access to sidequests through various means, and it’s all tracked conveniently in the game’s menu. As you change from one area to another (Hengsha, Montreal, etc.), sidequests expire, so those interested in seeing everything the game has to offer need to prioritize the sidequests over the main story.

At the end of the day, I think Deus Ex: Human Revolution remains a great experience, one worth returning to all these years later. However, the caveat remains: if you’re looking for a game that plays like the first Deus Ex, that is not what you’re going to find. This is a carefully crafted narrative title with relatively few degrees of freedom in puzzle-solving, combat, or autonomy in crafting the story. I am a fan of YouTube content creator hbomberguy, and his 3.5-hour video on DX:HR from 2022 is one I’ve watched several times over. I highly recommend it, as it provides background and insight on the game’s development and outcomes compared to its predecessor. However, I would push past his conclusion that DX:HR is merely “fine.” I think it’s still a great game to play, but you just have to know what you’re into and temper your expectations. An immersive sim, this is decidedly not.

The shining reputation the first Deus Ex enjoys is no accident. Director Warren Spector has stated that Ion Storm’s John Romero asked him to make the game of his dreams without budget restrictions and with a large marketing push. Under those circumstances, visions of grandeur seem inevitable. What is not inevitable, as shown by most other Ion Storm projects, is the artistic or commercial success of the product. Thankfully, Deus Ex pulled it off with its unique blend of genres, palpable atmosphere, and sparkling quality.

In the three years since the release of Deus Ex, the technology available to video game developers and consumers had progressed by surprising lengths. Physics simulations, fancy lighting effects, bump-mapped textures, and other advances promised to further connect players to their game experiences. Applying many of these advances to a sequel to Deus Ex is a tantalizing prospect… Until you realize it’s being developed for the Xbox. This comment deserves an explanation, but let’s understand the game first.

Deus Ex: Invisible War is set around twenty years after J.C. Denton merged his consciousness with the Aquinas A.I., triggering a new dark age of sorts known as The Collapse. The sequel thrusts you into the role of Alex D, a promising agent-in-training at the Tarsus Academy, which is experimenting with cutting-edge human enhancement technologies. After a devastating nanobot bomb targeting the Tarsus Academy’s Chicago branch disintegrated a huge swathe of the city, you are transferred to the Seattle branch. This branch is then immediately attacked by a shadowy religious organization called The Order.

Upon your escape, you meet the security forces of the World Trade Organization, whose interests sit directly opposite those of The Order. Later on you meet the Knights Templar, who are fanatically opposed to any human modification and discriminate against augmented persons. These are the main forces driving a story that transports you from Seattle to Cairo to Trier, Germany, to uncover the motivations of these factions and find your place in this mix of conspiracies. The story is a fun ride while you’re in it, nodding to our current time with commentary on the impact of artificial intelligence and a general meditation on free will in a high-tech world. Still, once it’s over and you look back on it, it’s rather flimsy and disappointing. Any potential branching of the story is betrayed by the fact that no matter how much damage you do to these factions, in the last 20 minutes of the game, they all leave the door open for you to deliver their version of a new world. The game reveals the provenance of The Order and the WTO in a way that appears intent on blowing your mind but is rather sad instead. Ultimately, the story will propel you forward, but it will not invite further reflection.

In Deus Ex games, the missions and the areas they take place in can often be well-designed and fun to play in, but the hubs between missions can be even more engaging. They are chock-full of places to explore, side quests to complete, and generally lots of details that make you believe in what you’re seeing. They don’t feel game-like, but instead like authentic places where people live and go about their lives. These sections are some of the most profoundly connecting of these games. In light of this, when one sets foot in Seattle, the first hub of Deus Ex: Invisible War, it is impossible to avoid the feeling of sinking melancholy.

The great city of Seattle is apparently a cramped series of nearly empty hallways. The time it takes you to walk until you hit a loading screen can be under a minute, but even if the whole area were seamless and load-time-free, it would be tiny for a Deus Ex hub. It gives you the impression that the technology used to power Invisible War can’t comfortably render more than three or so NPCs at once since the citizens are spread out and hidden in the corners of the narrow maze of a map. Yes, there are side quests and items to find while exploring hidden areas, but at the end of the day, what should be the most connecting part of a Deus Ex game is instead alarmingly disconnecting. The Seattle nightclub, for example, is one of the most depressing sights in the game, with its minuscule, nearly empty dance floor and cramped, deserted VIP room.

It’s not all bad, though. Deus Ex: Invisible War sports incredible lighting and shadow effects that remain highly convincing decades later and make great use of physics simulation, with nearly every object in an area being affected by the forces acting upon it in a believable way. Even in hub areas, Invisible War puts its worst foot forward, as each subsequent hub improves upon the previous one, with Trier being particularly believable. The missions and mission maps also tend to be pretty great, with ample opportunities to sneak, hack, and fight your way to each objective.

Thus, we see a game in conflict with itself, with contradictions bearing down on contradictions in a twisting pile of missed potential. Invisible War‘s lighting and physics systems represent an admirable effort to connect you to the game world, while the moribund hub areas rip you out of your suspension of disbelief. Engrossing missions can be ruined by running out of ammo for your favorite weapon. Which is the ammo for all the weapons.

Yes, Deus Ex: Invisible War contains the absolute head-scratcher of a decision to unify ammunition across all weapon types except grenades. Yes, flamethrower ammo is the same as rocket launcher ammo, tranquilizer dart ammo, etc. Not only does this kill any sense of authenticity in the world, but it also makes no sense from a gameplay perspective, as there’s no need to conserve ammo for a specific weapon or differentiation between lethal and non-lethal weapons.

This leads to the hair-pulling state of inventory management in general. It’s easy to understand how “Tetris-style” inventory management isn’t for everybody, but Invisible War‘s “streamlined” solution causes far more problems than it solves. Every item, from a bag of chips to a heavy flamethrower, takes up one slot. Thankfully, consumables stack in the inventory, but it further plunges the concept of this inventory system deeper into madness. It makes nothing easier. On occasion, you still must go into your inventory to drop an item so you can use the energy cell on the desk in front of you to replenish your power, then pick the first item back up.

In a similar fashion, the character building boils down to a biomod system that’s paltry for a Deus Ex game. You don’t gain skill points but instead install and upgrade biomods. Some are cool and useful, like Cloak and Bot Domination, and some are not, like Enhanced Vision or Defense Drone, but it’s all rather underwhelming and fails to provide any experience of worthwhile progression. You can cultivate an unstoppable build in the first third of the game and end up with many extra biomod upgrades you can’t use because you’ve maxed out all the ones you care about.

All of this brings us back to my earlier point about how unfortunate it is that they built this game for console before porting it to PC. The early 2000s was a time when rendering techniques new to video games had generally worked themselves ahead of the hardware available to most people, so the great lighting effects and physics calculations likely took a toll on the other aspects of the game. Of course there’s a degree of speculation there, but during this time there was indeed a dismal trend of developing games for console first, then poorly porting them to PC with spotty mouse support, bad optimization, and other issues. This is the case for Deus Ex: Invisible War. One example is that the inventory design seems to favor controller inputs. Thank goodness that Eidos Montreal realized you could do decent inventory management with a controller in the prequels that followed.

As for the cramped nature of Invisible War‘s maps, it would be tempting to blame the Xbox for that as well, but it’s more likely that the Unreal 2 engine, mixed with the aforementioned physics and lighting systems that it valiantly shoulders, are more to blame. Back then, these bells and whistles were especially expensive to implement from a performance standpoint. Perhaps related factors are also the cause of the sheer amount of bugs I found. Inventory glitches occur when certain items are placed in a new precious slot instead of a stack of the same items you already possess. There are also some ear-shattering sound bugs I experienced on at least two maps when an explosion happened. Even with my volume at twenty percent, these explosions were so loud that they came out of my speakers distorted. There were also no less than three occasions where loading a save put me back about 45 minutes from where I last saved.

Deus Ex: Invisible War is a fun game. The missions are well-designed with many approaches to success, the story is an enjoyable ride (for a while), and it can be graphically attractive. However, its failure to live up to its predecessor is an unavoidable inconvenience. Perhaps Invisible War‘s biggest crime is that it’s not the original Deus Ex, even if there’s a lot to enjoy on its own merits. Unfortunately, some frustrating decisions and circumstances let this game down, even divorced from its heritage.

In a world that enjoys the existence of three truly great Deus Ex games plus a whole landscape of great works that carry its legacy and influence forward, there is little reason to play Deus Ex: Invisible War. After the first Deus Ex shone a ray of light into what players thought was possible in a computer game, this sequel throws a curtain over it. The greatness behind desperately reaches out through pinpricks, but sadly, it fails to warm the room.

[Editor’s Note: June 23rd, 2025 marks the 25th anniversary of the original Deus Ex. In honor of this, we have asked our review team to offer fresh looks at all four mainline games in the series. Be on the lookout for those later this week!]

Twenty-five years ago today, we were given a glimpse into the dark future. A looking glass into a world very much like our own, yet steeped in rampant experimental technology, domineering corporations, despotic governments, and shadowy, far-reaching conspiracies running through all of it. While there are echoes of those descriptors in today’s world, Deus Ex perhaps didn’t set out to be such a prescient work from the outset. Yet, their foresight into the 21st century is downright eerie at times.

Basically, imagine a world where every conspiracy theory you’ve ever heard is all simultaneously true. That’s essentially the setting of Deus Ex.

You play as JC Denton, a newly minted agent for UNATCO, the United Nations Anti-Terrorism Coalition. We learn right away that JC’s placement into the agency is a decision viewed with equal parts fervor and fear since he and his brother, Paul, are UNATCO’s (and the world’s) first nano-augmented humans.

While biomechanical augmentations such as robotic arms and legs are widely represented and accepted as a part of society in 2052, nano-augmentations are less familiar to the populace as a technology, making JC and Paul outcasts of a sort in Deus Ex society. The feeling is compounded by the fact that the nanites allow their users to do things humans normally could not, namely, turn invisible and perform feats of superhuman strength.

Together with Paul, JC’s first mission for the agency involves thwarting an attack on Liberty Island by the radical terrorist group NSF (National Secessionist Forces). From this, you soon find out that Paul has betrayed UNATCO and defected to the NSF for reasons unknown. What follows is a rollercoaster political thriller plot full of twists and turns at every interval as JC uncovers a conspiracy that reaches all the way to the top and beyond.

On its own, Deus Ex‘s story is a very campy, pulpy one. I don’t mean that as an insult, but rather that it doesn’t try to take itself too seriously and is capable of having fun with its premise, thanks mostly to JC’s dry wit and deadpan delivery. If you were to read the game’s broad plot strokes as a novel, for instance, removed from all gameplay contexts, you might find it somewhat dull and uninspired. However, it’s those very gameplay contexts that made Deus Ex a one-of-a-kind narrative experience and what keeps it in such high regard to this day.

Above all else, the reason for this narrative/gameplay success is that Deus Ex functions as an immersive sim. While it certainly wasn’t the first, Deus Ex is what many consider to be the finest example of its subgenre. You see, an immersive sim is defined as being “driven by its systems.” In many ways, it’s the polar opposite of linearity in a game design sense. Immersive sims encourage full, untethered player exploration and experimentation. It essentially takes the phrase “there are no wrong answers” as a core design principle—players can tackle each of Deus Ex‘s levels and many objectives in whatever order and by whatever means they desire.

The number of times I asked a question starting with “I wonder if I can…” only for the game to immediately answer that I could is frankly staggering. This happened on every level of Deus Ex, from something as innocuous as skipping past a particularly taxing locked door by blowing it up to shortcutting entire questlines by making a series of story or gameplay decisions in a certain order. It really exemplifies how remarkable and ahead of its time Deus Ex is.

Despite being the blueprint for most beloved immersive sims of the 21st Century (Dishonored, Prey 2017, Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines), Deus Ex is still roundly considered the best in the genre, and for good reason. It’s a reactive, tactile world that engages the player in a tug-of-war with its systems to see what works and what doesn’t, in ways that few games can match, even to this day.

When it comes to approachability, that’s where Deus Ex loses a lot of people. It’s not entirely the game’s fault, only that it hails from an era of gaming where RPGs were more niche and could afford to take a lot more risks by design. With every detail, it’s clear that the team built Deus Ex for an enthusiast audience more than the average casual consumer. Further supporting this idea, the PS2 port, Deus Ex: The Conspiracy, had to redesign many of the game’s fundamentals to the point where one could argue that it’s an entirely different gameplay experience.

In my opinion, Deus Ex doesn’t put its best foot forward in onboarding new players. True, it has a training mission (accessible from the main menu) that’s fairly robust and extensive in explaining all of the game’s mechanics and ways to exploit them; however, the opening Statue of Liberty mission throws players in the deep end with a fairly tricky scenario and level layout and lets you have at it without a gradual build-up to get more intimately acquainted with its systems.

Now, I acknowledge that there probably is an optimal way to tackle this level that more or less covers those criteria, but newcomers wouldn’t be privy to that info, leading to a rather poor first impression. In fact, I put off playing Deus Ex for a long time precisely because the opening level is so overwhelming. Anecdotally, I’ve heard the same from others, too. While I’m grateful I pushed past it for this review and to celebrate the game’s 25th anniversary, I can easily see myself not bothering otherwise and continuing to play the series’ modern installments instead.

Again, this isn’t necessarily the game’s fault; in many ways, Deus Ex is a relic of its time, genre, and platform. Its open-ended playground design is both a blessing and a curse. It can be very intimidating for those unfamiliar with the other immersive sim RPGs that preceded it, like Thief: The Dark Project, System Shock 1+2, and Ultima Underworld: The Stygian Abyss, a game widely considered to be the original imsim.

It also doesn’t help that stealth, while still mostly reliable, fleshed out, and providing options and alternative routes for each of Deus Ex‘s 13 levels, can occasionally behave differently than you want or expect. Granted, this generally only applies to sneaking around enemies, with the game being touchy about what counts as “hiding in the shadows” or not. Thankfully, taking a stealth approach is merely one of dozens of potential strategies, and even then, stealth still functions well enough at the best of times.

In totality, Deus Ex presents as a game that’s a mile wide and five miles deep. Many of its components, on the surface, may not look like much, but when you take them apart and see how many moving parts there are, you can truly appreciate their worth.

This principle applies to its level design, systems, story, and every facet of its gameplay. The gunplay, for instance, can be initially very frustrating. Not just in a modern context either, since surely many FPS fans were used to the Quake, Half-Life, and Unreal school of shooters, which Deus Ex does not approach. That’s not for a lack of capability, but more than it’s just a different kind of shooter. Really, it’s tricky to say that it is a shooter at all. It’s a lot more deliberate, calculating, and strategic.

The more you play the game and invest in certain weapon skills, the more you realise that each of Deus Ex‘s arsenal of guns serves a specific purpose and can be useful in specific situations. In summary, the less you treat it like a shooter, the more you’ll appreciate its combat for what it is.

The same is true of Deus Ex‘s story. Sure, it’s a hokey, hammy cyberpunk political spy thriller with the occasional corny line of dialogue, odd line delivery, or the uncomfortable racist depiction of Chinese people in the Hong Kong level. Yet, despite that, it’s still incredibly clear that its themes, messages, and almost Nostradamus-like foresight into 21st-century politics, technology, and socioeconomics resonate even now.

This “mile wide, miles deep” principle arguably extends even to its soundtrack. Initially, I found some of its tracks to not be much. I even found some kind of annoying and repetitive. Yet, I kept coming back to them and found myself humming along as the levels went on. Straylight Productions truly indoctrinated me, and over the course of the game, I came to love the ambient, darksynth sound. Apparently, even game director Warren Spector had the same experience as I, initially becoming irritated by the main theme before catching himself humming along to it constantly.

For those who have yet to play the original Deus Ex, whether due to lack of interest, being overwhelmed by the opening mission, or the fact that it’s nothing like Human Revolution or Mankind Divided, I highly encourage you to give it another, proper go, and try and meet it where it is and not where you’d ideally want it to be.

More than many classic games I’ve gone back and played, while it may seem dated on the surface, Deus Ex is more than meets the eye and stands tall as one of those universally acclaimed video games that’s well and truly earned its reputation and placement in the annals of gaming history. Its influence resonates far and wide in the industry today, inspiring countless games and helping to usher in a new era of Western RPGs.

For the optimal (or, shall we say, “augmented“) way to play Deus Ex today and still have a vanilla experience, I cannot recommend Deus Ex Community Update highly enough (which is how I played it). It’s a compilation of quality-of-life mods that fix some essential issues, provide widescreen support, and don’t really interfere with the game’s systems. Otherwise, the new PS2 Classics re-release of the PS2 version of Deus Ex on PlayStation Plus can be a suitable, albeit somewhat different, experience that still comes impressively close to matching up with the PC version.

Just when you think you’ve seen it all, here comes FIGHT KNIGHT. An indie, naturally, this bouncy, grid-based pummeler ignites the hands, mind, and soul with its unusual aesthetics, unique combat design, and quirky cast of characters. Screenshots don’t do this one justice: do yourself a favor and read on to learn why this pugilist simulator pulls no punches.

Enter, uh, you. A daring knight who’s ventured off, by boat, to uncover the riches and mysteries behind a tower risen out of nowhere. Being a knight, you have a sword, until you reach the shores and find yourself cursed, sword shattering in hand. Worry not, though, because Sir You has really hard, metal gauntlets that are good at fist-to-face’ing. Bang, pow, 1960s Batman sounds, and so on. You’re not alone, though, because the humble denizens of this port are all too happy to assist with abode, bestiary, smithing, potion-making, and odd conversation. This is no epic: expect a light-hearted adventure matched with its airy, gummy movement and combat.

First-person, grid-based movement is the name of the game here. You enter the dungeon from one floor to the next, earning your way to the top one random encounter at a time. Initially, discovering a new floor is about learning the new enemy attack patterns and traits so as not to give up the ghost yourself, but the second half of the experience involves solving the puzzle gimmick on each floor and exploring thoroughly.

Most areas within the dungeon involve the risk of running into a battle while mapping out the area or trying to figure out how to reach a place observed across the way. When invisible ne’er-do-wells impose their hostile will on you, the game changes to an infinitely long, two-square-wide hallway. Yes, you can go backwards or forwards endlessly if you so choose. Three or so enemies will appear in front of you and jockey for the opportunity to bop you. Don’t let this happen! Get those dukes up and dodge, duck, dip, dive, and dodge. At times, the game can feel like a boxing match with all the countering, parrying, and uppercutting. Pretty much every enemy in the game feels distinct from one another and forces you to adapt and learn. A slow, steady, intelligent approach will get you to the end, but frantic and frenetic pummeling will get you pretty far, too.

Expect all manner of goofy foes ranging from hockey players to boardwalkers to gelatinous skeleton golems. Some put up shields, while others hang in the backline and throw fireballs or keep mini baddies coming. FIGHT KNIGHT does an outstanding job of changing up combat and making every floor feel fresh. Combat can be harrowing, though, as dying kicks you back to your previous save at the bottom of the tower back in town. This is especially stressful if there’s that one enemy type you just can’t figure out. Fortunately, building up enough energy allows you to access one of several special abilities accrued over time to basically zero out a couple enemies. Each special ability has unique attributes used for various situations, but the most basic one is effective for most enemies: hitting fast by mashing the attack button. Other abilities can feel like minigames, and missing prompts will waste the potential, so make sure you practice in town before you equip something new.

I love a good hub world, and FIGHT KNIGHT nails that here. Starting small with few inhabitants, our protagonist can find and save all sorts of folks on his excursions into The Tower. This provides a decent sense of progression, but honestly, what I love most about the town is the layout and look. Cozy and establishing a sense of place, I always smiled upon my return, eager to punch my friends to engage in new conversation topics. Yes, you punch them to get a dialogue going. They’re cool with it.

Each floor of the dungeon hosts a different puzzle type, and while I don’t want to spoil them, rest assured that they are both rewarding to figure out and never overstay their welcome. Developers Team Sorcerobe truly mastered the pacing of this game, as even by the end, it felt like the right time—no more, no less than what I wanted.

Aesthetically, FIGHT KNIGHT shines like no other game I can think of, similar to its odd combat system. The visuals can feel low-res and dated if watching from afar, but to play FIGHT KNIGHT and interact with it immerses one in its charms. Everything screams personality, from the town layout to the enemies in each dungeon. I have no doubt the developers love this game, because the details bring out the best in FIGHT KNIGHT’s visuals. The palette appears limited, but this feels purposeful, as it contributes to the unique style as our protagonist’s fists bob about here and there, just walking around. The animations and look demand that players don’t take the game too seriously, but the puzzles and combat say otherwise. In essence, don’t take a loss too seriously; just have fun.

The sound design suits the style, as well. Each dungeon and battle music track keeps traversal and combat animated. Again, cartoony and electric, but the quality demands respect. A significant cut above beeps and boops, FIGHT KNIGHT infuses energy with nostalgic flair combined with the sensibilities of modern video game composition and technology.

A game like FIGHT KNIGHT requires outstanding controls, and I am—for once in a rare while—not sure what to say about the execution here. I think it’s fantastic, but it simultaneously feels clunky and imprecise. Getting hit is a big deal because healing potions are limited. Your health pool can plummet if panic sets in during a grizzly high-stakes battle, and multiple damage sources are flying around soon after conquering the first floor. Yet, FIGHT KNIGHT is forgiving. In countless situations I’ve lost my cool and dodged feverishly only to come out unscathed with corpses at my feet. How? After my 13-hour jaunt, I still can’t say, but I’m certain of this: the game errs on the side of the player. For that, I am thankful, even if I thought I was hit countless times with nary a scratch.

FIGHT KNIGHT is a must-play for anyone seeking a high-quality, unique experience. So much of the game is odd, yet it plants itself in reality with gorgeous aesthetics, competent gameplay, unique mechanics, and level design that makes you feel smart while rarely frustrating. FIGHT KNIGHT is the exact example of why indies are important, because while the next AAA will reiterate the same old gameplay, here we have a title that isn’t afraid to change the way the game is played. And with style.

There are a few creators in this industry whose games I will play unconditionally, and Keita Takahashi has become one of them, even though I didn’t pay attention to his games until recently. I played them all in the run-up to this one, and even with the games that I liked the least, there was still something special about each that made them compelling—an unapologetic silliness and bounciness that makes you smile from ear to ear. to a T is no different.

When I saw the to a T reveal trailer during the June 2023 Annapurna Interactive Showcase, it instantly caught my and many others’ attention. Not just for its quirky and clever premise and reveal of a partnership with AbleGamers, alluding to the fact that the character stuck in a T-pose was an allegory to living with a disability, but also for its incredibly catchy theme song. Both of these things immediately endeared me to the project.

Having played the whole game for myself, I can confidently say that to a T stands tall as another shining example of why Keita Takahashi is one of the best to ever do it, albeit with a few technical fumbles and questionable gameplay decisions.

to a T follows a teen named Teen (whose appearance and name can be changed and customised to your liking), who lives in a small coastal town with their mother and cute little dog (whose name you can also choose). Since Teen’s arms are permanently in a T-pose, life is quite a bit harder for them than for everyone else. Something as simple as going through a doorway can be quite the challenge for them, and an inconvenience for you (since you have to manipulate the right stick to move their arms every time you pass through them), though this feeds into the game’s larger message.

Luckily, your dog is here to help you, and they prove a reliable and adorable companion throughout your adventure as Teen. Unfortunately, as much help as Teen gets from their mother and helpful canine companion, they also struggle in school and feel isolated from everyone else due to their condition. In particular, there’s a trio of bullies set on making Teen’s life miserable every day. Much of to a T‘s story comes from Teen learning to accept who they are, not who everyone wants them to be.

Indeed, to a T has the kind of heartfelt messaging and themes that one would expect from its premise, and I’m pleased to say that it’s handled with care, grace, and a wicked sense of humour, and never once feels preachy or hamfisted in its delivery and execution. I don’t use those words with any malice, to be clear, but simply because too often, even with the best intentions, games can miss the mark when trying to say something of substance.

to a T deftly avoids these pitfalls by utilising the very simple trick of allegorism; talking about something without talking about it directly. Not that it is or should be taboo to discuss and depict disabilities, but the way to a T presents itself allows its messages to reach a much wider audience that could otherwise be reticent to play a game centered around the same topics.

You may be surprised at how to a T plays. The trailers make it seem that you mostly run around and explore the town, talk to residents, and engage in light platforming. While all that is present, much of what you do is participate in various minigames representing everyday tasks for Teen. These include participating in eating contests, brushing your teeth and washing your face every morning, and engaging in math, science, and gym classes at school.

Many of these are fun, and thankfully, the more potentially tedious ones are optional if you’d rather not engage with them every time they come up. However, it’s the rest of to a T‘s gameplay where the problems arise.

See, while you can run around and explore the town at your leisure, you can’t do it right away and must wait a couple of “episodes” to do so. Often, you spend time in town running to school and a few other key locations. Since there’s initially not much to do during these segments, traversal can be quite dull. In fairness, you eventually unlock the ability to ride the train and even a unicycle.

Even these parts, dull though they may be, would be fine if not for the fact that town exploration uses a fixed-camera perspective. At times, this is frustrating since you must use crosswalks to get across the streets, and it’s not always easy to judge where those are in relation to yourself, as you can’t look around to get your bearings. It would be easier if you could jaywalk, though that goes against the game’s sensibilities.

What makes this extra frustrating is that one section of the game uses a freely adjustable 3D camera, but this option is not present anywhere else. To a degree, I get it, since the right stick is for manipulating Teen’s arms, but surely there could have been a compromise that could allow the player to at least change camera angles.

As you may have already gleaned from its art style, trailers, and levels referred to as “episodes,” to a T is an interactive cartoon by every metric, complete with opening and closing credits that play at the beginning and end of every episode. These feature the fantastic, incredibly catchy tunes of “Perfect Shape” by English indie pop band PREP as the opening track and “Giraffe Song” by musician and Steven Universe creator Rebecca Sugar as the closing theme. They’re both lovely, catchy songs and fit the tone and style of the game wonderfully. I hope you like them too, because you’ll hear them a lot throughout to a T.

Another crucial way to a T feels like a cartoon is how much its story and world rely on a comically over-the-top Looney Tunes level of logic. I don’t say that as a criticism, but merely because it’s important to approach to a T with the right expectations. Certain things happen in the plot that could only happen in cartoons. Honestly, if you weren’t clued into the fact that to a T is a Keita Takahashi project, some scenes in the story would give that away completely. You do get the occasional explanation of the plot’s wacky antics, but it’s not the kind of explanation that makes you go, “Ooooh, that makes total sense!” which, again, is surprisingly not a mark against to a T at all.

One such example, seen in the reveal trailer, is that Teen can spin in a circle and fly into the sky. It takes most of the game to figure out how to hone this ability, but once you do, you can activate it anytime. It’s quite finicky to pull off at the best of times, even though you only have to rotate the right stick clockwise and then jump. In fact, the only way I could get it to work reliably each time was by enabling “Simple Spin Input” in the accessibility settings menu, which allows you to activate the spin by simply holding the right bumper.

All told, to a T maintains the illustrious creative bounty of its director Keita Takahashi and his team at uvula, crafting a lovingly told, fun, wacky, and relentlessly cheeky ode to disabled kids who are in search of their place in the world. It’s clear that it’s a subject that means a lot to the developers, and it’s handled with genuine care, affection, and a wry sense of humour, never punching down or sugarcoating anything to betray its central message: There’s no such thing as “perfect,” and that’s okay. Our imperfections make us who we are.

There were times when a T‘s gameplay frustrated me. Thanks to occasional visual glitches and a couple of softlocks, it might have frustrated me more than some games I’ve given lower scores to. And yet, there’s something so inherently charming and genuine about to a T when you take it as a whole that you can’t help but be pulled in by its charms. Perhaps admitting that in writing revokes my credibility as a games writer, and I’m sorry for that, but it’s how I feel.

It’s almost poetic (or pretentious, if you’re cynical), but the fact that to a T is an imperfect game is in itself perfect. After all, as the game tells us, our imperfections make us who we are.

There are a few ways you can go with a piece of DLC.

One is to simply make more content for your original game; maybe a lengthy side quest or a new party member. Another is to create a semi-sequel, exploring new gameplay mechanics, settings, and basically testing the waters for your next game.

Sabotage Studio, the developers of 2023’s Sea of Stars, went with the first option for their free bonus-adventure DLC, Throes of the Watchmaker. Although there are a few new and compelling gameplay mechanics, it still feels very much like the original game. In other words, more Sea of Stars. If you enjoyed the first game, you’ll enjoy this, too!

Just before their final battle with the Fleshmancer, Valere and Zale, the Solstice Warriors, pay a visit to the mysterious Watchmaker in her Clockwork Castle. There, they learn about her creation of the world of Horloge, an entire world and (very French and cirque-based) civilization ingeniously hidden inside a clock. Tragically, this perfect clockwork world has been infested by one of the minions of the Fleshmancer, Puppetmaster, an evil doppelganger of the Watchmaker. Shrinking down to enter Horloge, the Solstice Warriors quickly find themselves at the mercy of the Puppetmaster, who magically creates evil doppelgangers of them, stealing their Solstice powers in the process. To save Horloge, our heroes must learn the ways of the circus combat, confront their dark counterparts, and reclaim their true powers before the Puppetmaster can unleash her evil upon the entire world!

As Throes of the Watchmaker is a post-endgame adventure, you must reach at least the first ending of Sea of Stars to get access. As Valere and Zale are basically gods at this point, entering the clock requires them to do the “Samus Shuffle™” and immediately lose their powers. Starting from level one allowed Sabotage to develop two new and slightly ridiculous classes: Valere becomes a ferocious Acrobat and Zale a fire-wielding Juggler. These two new classes are visually hilarious, with engaging new abilities. And as your usual crew of fighting companions can’t join you inside the clockwork world, you get a new third party member — and old friend — the Artificer! I can’t really talk more about who he is without spoilers for Sea of Stars, but I found his character to be the highlight of the main game and a delight to play (not to mention reminiscent of a beloved character from Chrono Trigger).

The strongest part of Sea of Stars is its turn-based combat, which functions pretty much identically in Throes of the Watchmaker. Success in battle is dependent on timed strikes and blocks. By hitting the button at the exact right time, you can mitigate an attack or deal extra damage to your foes. But even with perfect timing, doom awaits you unless you can learn to break your enemies’ concentration while they are casting their most powerful abilities. When an enemy is about to use one of their most potent spells, a series of elemental locks and a timer appear above them. By using your elemental attacks to “break” these locks, you can reduce the potency of their attack or maybe even stop it completely. I loved this element of strategy in the main game, and if you want to survive Watchmaker, you will need to become a master, as the DLC ramps up the difficulty considerably.

Another highlight of Sea of Stars and Watchmaker is their visual presentation. Watchmaker offers a splendidly designed pixel art steampunk-inspired world full of clockwork creatures and cirque-inspired enemies. There’s a lot to look at here, and all of it is pretty. The music in the DLC is also excellent. Many of Sea of Stars’ most identifiable themes return, but have shifted to take on a more circus motif. While almost all of the music in Throes of the Watchmaker (and Sea of Stars) is terrific, a few musical themes do sound more like they belong in an action game rather than an RPG (which makes sense, given Sabotage’s pedigree with the phenomenal Metroidvania The Messenger). Still, I found myself humming the themes when I wasn’t playing, and that’s a sign of an excellent soundtrack.

My main issue with Throes of the Watchmaker is the same as with the base game: the writing. In both, the story and characters almost feel like an afterthought, acting as set dressing for the visual presentation and combat system. The writing also tends to switch back and forth between “playing it straight” and “super meta” within the same scene, resulting in an uneven story tone. Unfortunately, the “evil twin representing their darkest traits” plotline calls the paper-thin characterization of the Solstice Warriors into even sharper relief. Zale’s malevolent doppelganger represents his vanity, making him a preening, vain monarch who demands everyone’s attention. Valere’s dark side, on the other hand, represents her feral and furious side, taking on a werewolf-esque motif. The problem with this conceit is that we have never seen examples of these character traits in the past. It would be one thing if Zale ever showed an egotistical side or if Valere repeatedly had to push down her anger in the main game, but as we never even got hints of these personality traits in the Solstice Warriors in Sea of Stars, seeing them here in physical form doesn’t have any narrative impact.

Making things worse is that neither of their evil doppelgangers ever interact with each other. Most of the game’s charm comes from Zale and Valere’s relationship with each other and their best friend, the Warrior Cook Garl. These relationships could have offered a much richer story vein to mine than their two-dimensional depictions. I would have loved to see the interactions of their evil twins as a dark reflection of the Solstice Warriors’ own relationship. Maybe they could have cared about each other just as much as our heroes do? How do they feel about Garl? Sadly, Sabotage leaves these potential compelling questions by the wayside, making the doppelgangers fee even more lifeless than their do-gooder counterparts.

With Sea of Stars, Sabotage set out to create a spiritual successor to 16-bit JRPGs of yore, succeeding in some ways but failing in others. With this DLC, you will find the exact same strengths and weaknesses as in the main game. Throes of the Watchmaker is a very good piece of DLC for a very good game! Though the combat system and visual presentation are triumphs, the story and characters might leave you feeling underwhelmed. It would be interesting to see how Sabotage could improve on this solid RPG foundation, but I suspect they plan to move on to other pastures. Much like how they declined to make a sequel to The Messenger, my money says that their third game will also be a completely different genre and likely outside of our coverage. Given the baffling number of Super Punch-Out!! references present (yeah, the game is still meta), maybe they will be diving into a new take on that classic SNES title! But as this studio consistently delivers mechanically engaging, visual treats to the eyes, I am willing to explore whatever direction they take next!

Empyreal (em-ˈpir-ē-əl) – adj. 1: of or relating to the empyrean, celestial 2: sublime 

I admit I wasn’t aware that empyreal was a word, let alone what it meant, so I thought it a good idea to know what I’m talking about when it comes to Empyreal. Silent Games features a few former Ubisoft crew, and it’s always interesting to see how creators do when they break out on their own after having made a reputation for themselves at a larger company. So, here’s Empyreal, an action RPG with a sci-fi theme, which in many ways feels Ubisoft-ish and in others like it’s trying to be anti-Ubisoft.

Empyreal comes down to you versus the Ziggurat, a massive structure on some planet in some galaxy. The Ziggurat seems to be even bigger on the inside (doctor who?) and there’s some mystery about what’s at its core. You’re a mercenary hired by The Company, whose expedition is failing miserably by virtue of the dangers inside the Ziggurat wiping out their forces. Your job, simply, is to explore it.

There is danger, but you’re up to the task. As an action RPG, Empyreal feels somewhat like a more self-contained Destiny, but also an attempt at an evolution of Souls-likes. In un-Ubisoft-like fashion, however, there’s not much in the way of open exploration. The travel system is convoluted, and despite attempting to convey a huge scale, everything still feels smaller than it should. There are nooks and hidden areas to discover within each area, but the world is never fully connected to where you can explore it seamlessly. Each area functions like a level from an old-school platformer: You fight through a slew of smaller, but by no means easy, enemies before taking on a boss at the end. There’s some randomness in the enemies you encounter and loot to grab, but otherwise, there’s a small number of layouts for these areas, and you eventually get to know them too well after repeatedly seeing the same places.

Empyreal focuses mainly on combat and loot, finding better loot so you can combat better and find more and better loot. Thankfully, these are some deep systems that require you to intimately learn their ins and outs. There are three types of weapons, which doesn’t seem like a lot, but their differences are on par with Monster Hunter. You start with the glaive, though you’ll quickly find a gun and a mace-shield combo to let you get to know those too. Once I found a mace and shield, I was interested to see how it would handle, and it was an unexpectedly harsh learning curve. I had assumed, it’s the same combat system, it surely can’t be that different. But this was like the difference between learning to ride a bike and learning to drive a car. Whereas the glaive is more of an agility-based weapon with your strategy tending to be striking and then quickly dodging out of harm’s way, the mace-shield is more like controlling a tank, which doesn’t even have a dodge move but instead relies on blocking and parrying for defense. Much of my enjoyment in Empyreal came through the process of learning each weapon and the satisfaction of feeling like I’d mastered it.

The loot system is similarly deep. Beyond the simple joy of collecting more and better stuff, it takes off when you get into modding, which allows you to fine-tune each piece of equipment. On the other hand, grinding for loot can get tiring. As your success in explorations depends as much on your loadout as on how well you fight, those who enjoy micromanaging should find plenty to like about Empyreal.

The things you fight also have depth. Though all the enemies are automatons and mostly have similar appearances, there’s a vast variety in how they behave. Some are quicker and try to overwhelm you with flurries of attacks, while others are slow and tanky but pack a wallop. The bosses in particular force you to take vastly different approaches and have novel ways to frustrate your typical strategies. Some like to summon lots of support to keep you busy, and others evilly convert your attacks into shielding. While they look similar, some of their mannerisms amusingly evoke RPG character archetypes. Each boss has a short, mimed-out scene (before they proceed to pummel you) that, though wordless, gives them a little personality. For instance, one does a figure skating routine on the water, while another has an army of bots kneeling before them as if they’re a general. These sequences are great because, unfortunately, there’s little buildup for the bosses in the story.

It’s obvious that Empyreal’s gameplay was the development team’s primary focus, as the story is quite a mess. While the short opening movie sets up the beginning of an epic quest, there’s not much else happening once that’s finished. The story mainly revolves around your relationship with other characters in camp, but you’ll only have a few interactions with each throughout the entire game. They do each petition you to undertake sidequests (which have their own problems), but that’s essentially the extent of those interactions beyond occasional fun, inspired moments that pop up unexpectedly. Overall, the rest of the crew is strangely in good humor considering their dire situation.

The narrative starts to picks up more at the end as if it’s setting up an entirely new story, but it’s so far out there that it makes the whole experience incomprehensible. There is an undertone of making a connection between the extraterrestrial and the divine, which is oddly intriguing but could have been expounded upon more throughout the game. The developers may have been attempting FromSoftware-style environmental storytelling with the different biomes within the Ziggurat and some evocative scenes, but nothing grabbed my attention more than in passing.

Though combat and equipment management are great, a few persistent issues cause headaches. Returning to the Ubisoft connection with Silent Games, it’s weird how Empyreal feels similar to typical Ubisoft games while also taking an opposite approach to many of the long-bemoaned common complaints about those games. You have a sidequest list, and while its brevity is refreshing, there’s no way to be intentional in trying to find the things characters want to the point that you may or may not accidentally stumble upon them throughout your travels. Empyreal has trouble providing guidance in general. When the game introduces a new element, it’s often mentioned in passing by characters and sometimes doesn’t make it into the tutorial list. If you’re tired of handholding in video games, this is the opposite problem, where there aren’t clear markers to even determine the right general direction.

There’s an overall thread of that Ubisoft jankiness throughout Empyreal, from combat to simply navigating the hub. Inside the Ziggurat, the game is refreshingly hands-off about letting you explore without overbearingly pointing you in the direction it wants you to go. On the other hand, the surprisingly expansive camp area could have used a minimap or a quick travel function, especially as characters are almost always in the same spot. It’s also baffling that in camp, you have to go to an armory (which thankfully are in multiple locations in camp) to change your loadout and that you can’t simply access that from the menu wherever you are. Though learning to use the weapons is part of the fun, part of the learning curve is figuring out how to work around the jankiness. The gun is especially a handful to navigate, as you have to play a little minigame when you reload, which you must do constantly. Items also take some time to learn, as things you expect you’d be able to easily pick up, such as healing items, aren’t so intuitive to use. It’s not that any or all of these complaints add up to a bad time, but it sure makes you appreciate games with more polish or a steady-handed approach.

Empyreal looks good, especially some of the details in the areas you visit, like the artificial sky in the desert-like biome. For those in the Fashion Souls set, it’s so much fun to see how your character’s look evolves with each new piece of equipment. I cheerily took on the final boss in a windbreaker with neon yellow sleeves. While the automatons are good-looking too, they unfortunately highlight some limitations in the style, as they all look fairly similar. You don’t spend a ton of time with other characters, and the camera keeps a distance when you interact with them, though they look fine from afar.

There’s not much to speak of on the music front, as if you’ve played any other space game or seen a Captain America movie, you’ve heard the blaring horn that denotes prestige or something. The soundtrack is mostly a further watered-down version of generic, worn-out sounds that came before it, except for the one vibrating rumble track in camp that sounds like your aux cord is ajar, which sent me checking to ensure my speakers were plugged in properly (they were). The voice acting is inoffensive but also uninspired, except for sassy fellow intrepid adventurer Isolda, who is fun to chat with mostly because of the lively performance. Sound effects are punchy and solid, but again, nothing special. As you’d hope from a challenging action game, the controls are spot on and it feels great to control your character, though it does look a little silly when you’re hammering the parry button trying to get the timing down.

There’s nothing wrong with developing the game you want and knowing what you have while hiding the limitations. Empyreal is all about the combat and loot, and it shows in the solid combat and in tinkering with your loadout. That’s clearly where the effort went. If this game is trying to be part Destiny and part Souls-like with a nod to old-school games, then it doesn’t fail, but it doesn’t succeed either. The only problem with eschewing story and other elements is that it comes off as cold and bland. I think those who dig the combat will love Empyreal, but others who want more out of their experience may find it less than sublime.

Phoenix Springs is about 78% artsy and 22% fartsy. For those looking to do some soul-searching and who don’t mind a dive into the abstract, this is likely the game for you. While certainly not for everyone, it accomplishes what it sets out to do: introduce thought.

A detective noir, Iris searches for her brother Leo Dormer. Is this an acronym or literary reference? I dunno, but maybe. That’s what Phoenix Springs does to a person. Halfway through the game, I was second-guessing everything, wondering why something is named this or why something looks like that. Joyously, I might add, but at a certain point I was begging for something to land on.

Initially, Phoenix Springs feels grounded in a dystopian future that is only hinted at: no garish signs of the oblivion aside from a drunk here and odd technology there. We do gumshoe stuff like knocking on doors, interviewing neighbors, and traveling from place to place. Eventually, I ran into an intense logical oddity that I won’t spoil here, but it made me realize: oh, right, this is clearly arthouse in gaming clothing.

Separating the look and sounds of Phoenix Springs from the story is nigh impossible. Alexandra Crow sublimely performs Iris’ internal monologue—the voice we hear the entire way through. She achieves the tranquil detective noir vibe we usually hear from males. Oddly robotic, Crow’s performance accentuates the eerie visuals that favor near-blacks and solid color choices. An outsider might view this palette choice as pretentious or lazy, but everything always looks fantastic, and I’d venture to say the visuals do about as much storytelling as the writing.

Interacting with the world involves mashing ideas together with the environment, which usually results in some witty insight from Iris if not progressing the story. Iris also has the option of talking to, looking at, or using different parts of the environment, though players will usually be “looking at” objects. Don’t expect a myriad of tangibles in the landscape, though: Phoenix Springs limits, which helps with the puzzling.

Unfortunately, the puzzling can sometimes lead to a guide dang it. Fortunately, the developers were keen to pick up on this and threw a walkthrough link right into the options menu for easy access. Though it’s rare for me to look something up, I did so here. Some of the puzzles here are pretty obtuse, and the options become so vast and varied near the end of the game that I was getting grumpy and losing interest in the story, which should never happen in any adventure game. The solutions were not face-palm moments: some of the expectations thrust onto the player are pretty unreasonable, but, again, there’s a guide there for just such a reason.

I enjoyed hitting dead-ends most of the time because Iris’ thoughts almost always entertained. Also, these dead-ends oftentimes provide context and insight that the core story doesn’t offer, which almost seems intentional. I want to say this is unfortunate, but why? Why do games need clean, carved paths? So what if an adventure game is poetic and meant to stimulate thought rather than serve everything on a platter?

And that’s where I’m stuck with Phoenix Springs. I certainly enjoyed this rabbit hole, but I also have to acknowledge that mystery for mystery’s sake isn’t good, either. With so many face-value storylines out there, Phoenix Springs feels rejuvenating and novel. We’re also not talking a square protagonist meets a triangle antagonist, and, golly gee, that’s a metaphor for late-stage capitalism. This is more tasteful than that.

I’m absolutely certain someone paying attention and doing a couple playthroughs will be able to stitch together the “real story,” but I’m content chewing on this thing in bed, in the shower, and commuting to work. Rather than trying to solve the story, I find it more beneficial to explore the moods and feelings that the imagery and conclusions prompt. Why was that sandbox there, why did Iris say that particular thing, and what do Leo’s goals have to say about the human experience?

Phoenix Springs is not for everyone, and I’d venture to say most people won’t care for it; that’s also the benefit of strong visuals, though. No one’s going to look at screenshots or videos of this game and complain that they got ripped off thinking this was Gears of War. If my rambling and the feeling you get looking at Phoenix Springs doesn’t get you licking your lips, then this might be a pass for you. Others: enjoy food for your artsy fartsy soul.

After being thoroughly charmed by developer Matrix Software’s Final Fantasy III Nintendo DS remake, I adored my time with their Final Fantasy IV remake. I was intrigued when I heard that the classic old-school FF had a sequel, so I leaped from 3D graphics to pixels to play the Final Fantasy IV: The After Years that came bundled in the PSP’s Final Fantasy IV: The Complete Collection. Unfortunately, time constraints and a sense of burnout after reaching the game’s halfway point resulted in me putting the handheld down. It wasn’t until I learned, mainly by chance, that Matrix Software developed a 3D remake of Final Fantasy IV: The After Years in the same vein as their FFIII and FFIV remakes that I decided to once more embark upon FF nostalgia and give the title another chance. I was glad I did by the time the ending credits rolled, even if FFIV: The After Years isn’t remotely a necessary sequel.

The After Years is set years after the heroic adventures of FFIV‘s Cecil and his comrades, with Cecil and Rosa’s teenage son Ceodore commencing his first mission as a rookie Red Wings member. In true JRPG fashion, things go wrong, starting with the sudden appearance of a mysterious new moon in the sky and an enigmatic threat looming in its broad shadow. Add to that an ethereal girl garbed in white casting powerful magic, making hostile moves for the various nations’ crystals. Can Ceodore, alongside a whole host of both returning and new characters, save the planet, or is history doomed to repeat?

History repeating itself is apt to describe much of the plot in Final Fantasy IV: The After Years. The game noticeably retreads plot points from its predecessor to the point where characters even make the occasional meta-commentary. It’s amusing, but also makes the title feel unnecessary. After all, if I wanted to replay FFIV‘s plot, I could replay FFIV. Characters such as Cecil, Rosa, Cid, Yang, and Rydia remain the same as their already-established personalities. Cecil is essentially a non-entity in the overreaching narrative until the latter half of the game’s final “episode,” which is bizarre given how he’s the hero of the first tale. Disappointingly, Rosa and Cid are the only surviving original party members besides Cecil who do not get their own character-specific episodes, making them feel like afterthoughts. It doesn’t help that Rosa’s one chance to stand out from the crowd in the final episode is entirely missable. This discrepancy could be understandable if the new characters like Ceodore had more to do in the story to balance it out, but sadly, a lot of their screen time is easily forgettable, and many don’t get much character development throughout the journey.

That isn’t to say there aren’t any interesting plot threads in The After Years. While new characters like Ceodore, Ursula, and the Eblan Four are somewhat lacking, the dwarven princess Luca (serving as Cid’s apprentice) and the Epopt-in-training Leonora are standouts given their personalities and reactions to story shenanigans. I also immensely enjoy “spoony bard” Edward’s storyline and character development throughout The After Years, as he’s a capable leader to his people, and his narrative receives a nice touch with the tentative healing potential of the bond he forms with his secretary, Harley. Being a twin myself, I also liked the portrayal of Mysidian mages Palom and Porom’s shifting sibling dynamics as they attempt to be individuals but still care for one another. Edge shows some welcome character growth throughout The After Years, and Kain and Golbez’s storylines are high points, even if one can argue Kain’s story is a retreading of Cecil’s from the first game. It’s a shame that the other characters don’t have as many memorable moments comparatively.

Final Fantasy IV: The After Years was originally an episodic game, and its roots are still apparent in this 3D remake since you get to choose which story arc you first want to explore, which unlocks others. Each episode focuses on the adventures of a specific character until the whole party comes together for the final episode called “The Crystals.” This version keeps episode saves neatly separate for carryover purposes later on, which is especially helpful and an excellent quality-of-life feature compared to the PSP version’s archaic save system. Until the final one, each episode is roughly two to four hours long, with some significantly more memorable than others. For my life, I can’t remember much about Yang’s Tale compared to, say, Rydia’s. The Crystals is a considerably longer episode to close the game out on, though once you gain access to the Lunar Whale, it’s a lengthy dungeon crawl that tests your patience. This episodic format is an odd choice for a version of the game released in one go, especially given how different The Crystals feels compared to the other episodes. It’s as if you’re playing two different games.

From a combat stance, FFIV: The After Years features the active turn-based battle system that earlier FF games are known for. Instead of relying on Augments like the original Final Fantasy IV 3D remake, every character has set abilities and gains more skills as they level up. Certain party member combinations have special group moves called Bands that are especially powerful and gain strength as they level up. You even feel the moon’s presence in combat, as the moon’s phases will strengthen particular abilities and weaken others. Some powerful monsters only appear during specific stages of the moon, so caution is necessary when traversing through hostile terrain. Combat is solid enough without doing anything inherently wrong or differentiating itself either. As can be common in “old school-styled” games, level grinding, especially during The Crystals when cementing your final party, is essential for survival.

The 3D graphics in this remake probably aren’t going to wow anyone, though they’re expressive enough during certain story scenes. I love that the game uses the PSP version’s FMV opening, though! The game likely had a slim development budget, given the recycled graphical assets from the FFIV 3D remake. The final dungeon, in particular, was retooled for this version so that they could avoid making new dungeon areas and enemies whenever possible. Music-wise, the game uses a lot of tracks from FFIV to significant effect, which isn’t surprising considering the high caliber of music in that title. The few TAY-specific tracks, such as “Mysterious Girl Battle Theme,” are well done. Sadly, unlike the Final Fantasy IV remake, The After Years remake has no voice acting. Despite nicely handled localization and script work, there are a few noticeable typographical errors at the end of The Crystals.

While the game is straightforward enough to figure out, some examples of Guide Dang It! can be rather annoying, particularly if you want a particular character to survive the endgame or ensure you gain access to all of the Eidolons again. The game doesn’t do anything inherently annoying, but it is a middle-tier FF experience not necessarily vital to play as a sequel or otherwise, but it can be nostalgically entertaining in small doses if not taken seriously. I enjoyed the ending when all is said and done, but FFIV fans don’t have to play TAY. Final Fantasy IV: The After Years 3D remake is a good nostalgic throwback for fans of the DS remakes of FFIII and FFIV, but not necessarily one those fans should need or want to play.

Come on down to your local saloon and let’s have a mighty fine talk about treasure hunting, failed revolutions, and nude photography. It’s been a long wait, but this March finally saw the release of Grundislav Games’ Rosewater, a Western-themed follow-up to 2018’s excellent steampunk detective game, Lamplight City. Was it worth the wait? Darn right it was!

Set in a previously-unseen part of Vespuccia (the alternate America featured in Lamplight City), Rosewater follows eager journalist Harley Leger as she arrives in the frontier town of Rosewater for an exciting work opportunity. What starts as a simple assignment to interview a traveling showman evolves into a lengthy quest to find a missing scientist’s fortune, filled with laughter, mystery, wonder, and tragedy. Thankfully, you won’t feel lost if you haven’t played the wonderful Lamplight City, as Rosewater is a standalone tale. Long-time fans, of course, will appreciate the nods to the original game, including a notable family link!

Harley isn’t alone, as she gathers up a memorable and diverse cast of companions, and befriends (or antagonizes) a wide range of eccentrics and scoundrels. Indeed, the characters are where this game really shines, and the crew quickly starts to feel like family; you even get a loyal pet! Chat with your new friends as you explore, ask them for help when you’re stuck (young Danny is a far better shot than I am), and strengthen friendships through your dialogue choices. No romance, unfortunately! Character relationships will affect how your journey progresses, including which sidequests you see and how certain story beats turn out. If you take to the characters as much as I did, you’ll definitely want to prepare some tissues or a punching bag for some later scenes!

Rosewater‘s gameplay follows a traditional point-and-click format, complete with an inventory, dialogue choices, and minigames that range from picking locks to digging up dinosaur bones. The mouse controls are smooth and responsive, with some additional quality-of-life features such as a hotspot toggle and regular autosaves on top of the genre’s traditional manual save function; heck, I had over 20 files going by the end! Meanwhile, though the game features some timing-based sections, you can generally rely on another character for help or try a different method.

While Rosewater‘s road-trip format is rather linear (perhaps to the disappointment of some players), you have plenty of choice in how the dialogue, character relations, and sidequests turn out. Some sidequests may not even appear in a single playthrough, whether by chance or due to your relationships, and even your diary entries reflect your choices; a nice little detail! Of course, your decisions impact some major plot points down the road, as well as the ending scenes. All in all, Rosewater is worth playing more than once! The game is lengthy, too; at slightly over nineteen hours for a single run, it ranks among the longest point-and-click games I’ve ever played. I never felt bored either. Except for one area, there is minimal required backtracking, and fast travel between screens makes things even easier.

Rosewater features detailed, crisp locales ranging from old-fashioned saloons to forest sanctuaries, with one of my favorites being the cozy ambiance of an old sailor’s home during a sandstorm. The graphics are a little more modern than Lamplight City‘s pixelated backdrops but no less attractive, and I quite liked the detail put into minor background objects. On a negative note, a few of the town streets in the beginning areas feel a little flat, and some of the desert backdrops seem too similar, though these are minor quibbles compared with the overall size of the world and variety of locales. The characters and animals, meanwhile, are rendered with stylish rotoscoped animation, and feature in the occasional cinematic cutscene. While a bit choppy at times, it was certainly a nice surprise to see rotoscoping appear again!

Rosewater‘s background music is generally pleasant and fitting for the Western setting, with a wagon theme that will be playing in your head for days. Of particular note are the guitar pieces (and an emotional vocal track) performed by explosives expert Phil; even the other characters would agree that his music was a wonderful addition to the journey! Meanwhile, the voice acting impressed me overall (expect to hear a diverse range of accents), though I found Harley a little flat at times, particularly in the beginning.

I should note that the game still had some minor bugs during my playthrough, including a couple of scenes with audio glitches (Harley’s voice suddenly changing in volume), a forest scene that crashed upon trying to save, and the bonus artbook (gained after completion) being mysteriously bereft of any images. Thankfully, the autosave rescued me from losing any significant progress in the second portion, and patches are still being released, which will hopefully iron out any issues. [Editor’s Note: One such patch released only a day before publication that may solve some of these items.]

As I played through the first hour of Rosewater, I was expecting the game to continue with a narrow focus on the initial town and its inhabitants, perhaps featuring more interviews with the residents and jaunts to nearby locales. This turned out not to be the case at all, and as the game opened up, I was pleasantly surprised and maybe even a bit blown away by the epic scope. It was easy to put myself in the shoes of Miss Leger, as I, too, enjoy doing a bit of writing here and there. Road trips, not so much, but I’m always up for adventure in a handy point-and-click format, safe from the grasp of hungry coyotes, bothersome religious groups, and the long arm of the law. The game’s emotional depth surprised me as well, occasionally delving into heavy themes and shocking situations, yet the overall atmosphere is lighthearted, hopeful, and even a little bit inspiring, thanks to the solid writing!

With its long journey, wonderful characters, and a plethora of choices, Rosewater is truly an impressive achievement among point-and-click games. If you have the slightest interest in graphic adventures or the Western genre, this is an experience not to be missed!