Lies of P's greatest strength is how it rewards and empowers you at every turn to venture further through this twisted tale of puppetry and monstrous humanity, despite its oppressive world and formidable enemies. I struggled to pull myself away from Lies of P, even when it had me fuming. It delicately balances the fun of a Soulslike with the challenge the genre demands and only falters a few times. That it maintains that balance within the confines of a fairytale most know best because of Disney, flipping it on its head to tell something more in line with Carlo Collodi's original The Adventures of Pinocchio, is another achievement of Lies of P. But above all that, Lies of P uses the familiar, the highlights, and the lessons learned from the authors of the Soulslike subgenre to create something unique, fascinating, and exhilarating. Neowiz aimed for the stars, much like the ones its Pinocchio wishes upon, and hits them with machine-like accuracy.
The Lost Crown makes it hard to put the controller down, constantly urging players to follow its paths just a little further. Following its persistent pull to explore more of Mount Qaf is easy, though, thanks to how good it feels to do so. Between its first-rate platforming and engaging combat and progression, The Lost Crown’s various parts coalesce into a sublime loop. Gameplay is king, and this Prince of Persia understands that.
In the end, though, Citizen Sleeper is less a critique of capitalism itself, which in its defense has been done countless times in the cyberpunk genre, and more an opportunity to showcase how those under its thumb persevere and succeed despite it. Its hopeful and inspiring message is backed by a branching, heartfelt narrative, and a great gameplay loop, making it tough to put down. Add in its enriching visual style and my favorite musical score of 2022 so far, and Citizen Sleeper is a game I'll be thinking about for years to come.
I likely won’t remember my minute frustrations with the game a few months from now, but I will remember “Dissolution,” a Two Feathers track with cathartic vocals from Bjorn “Speed” Strid of Soilwork, the realm of Hell known as Nihil, and the way my shotgun obliterated waves of enemies there. I’m so glad Metal: Hellsinger ends with the promise of more to come because I already want more from this series.
Players looking for deep customization, expertly crafted strategy RPG combat, and a heartfelt story with adoration for more than 30 years of Fire Emblem history will find that and more in Engage. It’s one of the most gripping games I’ve played on Switch and, ultimately, one I struggled to peel myself away from.
Despite that lack of propelling factor, I’m still completely engrossed in this game, playing it during any 15 free minutes I can find throughout my day. Though I’ve technically completed the game, I want to SSS rank all of my favorite songs, dig deeper into the libraries from Final Fantasy games I’m less familiar with, and show off my rhythm prowess against other players. This is a fantastic rhythm game set to the tune of arguably the greatest music catalog in all of games. While I would have liked more guidance in how to proceed, the musical content on offer is so diverse, so nostalgic, and so well done, that I have no problem composing my own fun.
Rytmos is short and sweet, and its minimalist visuals and zen-like beats left me feeling warm. Its puzzles match everything else the game is doing, and it all works together well to highlight the music, its inspirations’ place in history, and the instruments that create it. The audiophile pedigree of Floppy Club shines through in Rytmos, and it feels designed specifically with musicians and music enthusiasts in mind, but puzzle fiends will also find a chill afternoon of challenges to play through here, too.
Humanity strikes a delicate balance between challenging me at every turn and allowing me to feel like the god its narrative props me up to be. It’s an imaginative experience that provides a rush I imagine computer programmers feel when dozens of commands and lines of code finally work together to create a desired outcome. Its puzzles come wrapped in a beautiful package, from its minimalist visuals to its excellent clicky electronic beats. And best of all, these elements work together to emphasize a simple but effective message about what it means to be human and why life’s most intricate puzzles are easiest to solve when we work together.
When I look back at my time with Clive, his friends, his enemies, and Valisthea, it’s those highs that I vividly remember. FFXVI is very different from its predecessors, but in many ways, very familiar; And it’s still a Final Fantasy, through and through, reminding me why I love this series so much.
With credits behind me, I’m excited to discover more of Monoth’s secrets and collectibles I haven’t yet found, and I’m especially thrilled to play more with my 7-year-old nephew. Illusion Island doesn’t overhaul the platformer genre, or the Metroidvania formula for that matter, but its distinctive no-combat focus on simply moving through Monoth keeps the trip amusing, brisk, and gratifying. I would have liked more challenge; this is a simple adventure that might not capture the interest of platformer enthusiasts with little to no preoccupation with Disney. But when met on its own terms, it’s hard to deny Illusion Island is a jubilant love letter to these characters and platforming.
While Phantom Liberty doesn't stand head and shoulders above the rest of the Cyberpunk package, it slots in nicely, like a preem piece of cyberware you’ve been waiting to be in stock.
With Ghostrunner 2 behind me, I’m thrilled more of this series exists. Even after rolling credits, I'm excited to tear through its levels once more to find collectibles like sword and glove skins and old-world artifacts like VHS tapes, and try my hand some more at the delectably simple roguelite minigame. Though Ghostrunner 2 falters in a few ways, like its more open-ended sections and superfluous wingsuit, what remains in the hours outside of those missteps is its best-in-class parkour action. And like its predecessor, it remains a damn treat.
The best of Remake exists in Rebirth, but the various open-world areas surrounding it – the parts that make Rebirth unique from its predecessor – sometimes miss the mark.
From the moment you step onto these demon-infested lands to the moment you deal the killing blow to the game’s final boss, you’ll experience plenty of surprises – the Konami Code does something really cool, for example. Infernax’s retro soundtrack that rips from start to finish, beautiful art, challenging gameplay, and a fun Castlevania-inspired design, make it worth the price of admission.
Three Hopes runs a few chapters too long, and some late-game twists don’t carry the impact they should as a result, but my 36 hours were a great time. Three Hopes successfully and expertly integrates everything great about Three Houses into its musou format, both in narrative and in gameplay; it’s been one of my favorite Switch experiences in recent memory as a result. If you like Three Houses, you should play Three Hopes, and I’d recommend it to you even if you aren’t familiar with the musou genre. And if you haven’t played Three Houses, there’s a good chance that’ll be your next game after rolling credits on this one.
Running through dungeons and improving my cult compound was satisfying, and I found plenty of enjoyment in Cult of the Lamb as a result, even when I felt more like a ruthless boss than a leader.
Still though, because most of my eight hours with Dig were spent spelunking through stages leading down, I rarely had to think about the game’s roguelite efforts. I spent most of my time playing through beautiful stages to the tune of chippy synth tunes, fascinated with how far Nitrome and Yacht Club were able to stretch the “dig” aspect of this game. Perhaps the roguelite nature of Dig will play a bigger role in my post-game excavations because I’m rearing to jump back in to discover all of its secrets. Even if it doesn’t, though, I know I still have at least a few more hours of great Shovel Knight gameplay ahead of me and in the world of platforming, that’s a treasure worth digging up.
At times, it feels too long and oddly sadistic in its focus on inflicting fakeouts, pain, and suffering on the de Runes. Other times, I admired Asobo’s command of this series, its rat-infested stealth mechanics, and its grandiose storytelling. Fortunately, the latter edges out the former, and Requiem feels like much more than just a follow-up.
With The Entropy Centre behind me, I’m fascinated by what Stubby Games accomplished with its debut. It’s full of excellent puzzles, but the stuff around them, like bugs and narrative pacing, stop the entire package from coming together in an equally impressive way.
At its core, Strayed Lights revolves around a simple, intuitive, and unique combat system, and with this strong base in place, it’s no wonder the game shines as bright as it does.