2012

If I were to take FEZ at face value, then my thoughts would be pretty brief: it’s a damn good puzzle-platformer game with a hella strong core, taking a 2D interconnected world and twisting it and turning it to achieve greater heights. It’s never particularly difficult or challenging, but it’s fun; reaching new areas is intriguing, and getting the cubes is ultra satisfying, and in a way, I’m kinda glad it never tries to have really hard sections or some sort of final challenge, because even tho I’m sure that’d be cool, and I would really love to see this dimension-shifting mechanic taken up a notch, I also think the way that it is makes the world feel much more organic than it otherwise would, and sells the idea that this is an experience more about the act of exploring than traversing perilous sections.

However, taking FEZ at face value is impossible, or at least it is for me. FEZ is the jumps and beautiful sounds and sights of its adorable ruined worlds as much as it is the secrets that lie within.

I have talked about my fascination with the ancient world and the mysticism and desire to learn that comes with simply witnessing it, whether it is the remnants of a bygone civilization or the remains of an animal that walked the earth hundreds of millions of nights ago. FEZ has a ton of the former and not much of the latter, but what it shares with both of those is that feeling.

The feeling of stumbling upon something you shouldn’t even be able to understand, of seeing the carvings in the wall and the very code that holds reality together and finding answers behind it—it’s satisfying to beat a platforming challenge and get to a chest with a key in it, but it’s equally, if not even more fulfilling, to fit pieces of the puzzle hidden yet in plain sight.

Spirals of purple marble endlessly repeating, secrets to be revealed by feathered friends or written outside of the game itself, tongues that can be completely translated, and moments like what happened to me where I solved a puzzle by complete chance by just fucking around moving some blocks; connecting the deepest secrets of the world through the addition of the Anti-Cubes alone was an amazing decision. Even after pulling apart layers on top of layers to get some of them, I still feel I’ve barely scratched the surface of what’s in here, what can be found, like an excavation that just has begun.

Every step is a new discovery, and making it to each of the main hub worlds opens a new horizon, from the oldest depths to the stormiest peaks, and it’s all so… tranquil. The wonderful, beautiful pixel art mixed with the outstanding OST, it compels you to keep going, to see juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuust a lil’ more, to keep going a bit further, only to be met with a teleporter, going back to the hub, and repeating that process over and over again. It says a lot when, in the year 2024, a game that uses QR codes or 4th wall breaks to solve puzzles doesn’t make me groan; on the contrary, in fact, it manages to fit into that secret uncovering process tremendously well.

There are pieces that don’t quite fit: the fact that quite a few of those more hidden puzzles end up being a combination of LT and LR inputs is a bit disappointing and misses the mark on what other Anit-Cube quests accomplish so well, and there’s some even weirder stuff like annoying void squares that appear randomly and aren’t anything more than a dumb annoyance or how entering doors may just crash to desktop randomly, which isn’t part of the experience, mind you, and it takes you completely out of it sometimes. It only happened once to me, but this being a problem present years later is a bit disappointing, to be honest.

It's a cube quest that a few times can be a little disappointing or frustrating, but that’s something I can easily look past when the rest of it is so stellar that the act of opening doors is the most exciting fucking thing ever. It invites to wonder and imagine, and there’s so much to be solved and found that, after hitting credits, I feel like the exploration can go even further…  Oh, and also, Gomez’s design and name is the best fucking thing ever and there’s no contest, the most basic-ass lil white dude and I love it, look at his smile!

Adventure is out there, and it carries mysteries with it, it’s about time someone solves them.

Shout out to small rural towns overtaken by an evil or dark presence that corrupts them or brings hellish creatures. Gotta be one of my favorite genders.




Deemon, the incompetent reviewer, started off his write-off with one of his usual jokes, so unfunny that one might wonder if he was doing it on purpose or if he really has such poor comedy taste. He was trying to hide the fact that he really didn’t know where to start; the path to take might seem clear, but like the streets and forest of Bright Falls, it’s more deceiving than it may look at first, like a maze that’s also a downward spiral.

Deemon pondered, searching for a way to salvage the review, desperately trying to find out which step he should take, what words he should use. He sighed. He decided to let the words write themselves, to let out all the thoughts that had formed while the darkness and light of the town surrounded Alan Wake. He surrendered himself to the unknown, one that might be already written after all… Though he knows he had to talk about the music for sure, that selection of bangers had to be celebrated somehow.





Ambition almost killed Alan Wake, in more ways than one. I mean, I may not know much about Remedy Studios, in fact, it is the very first game of theirs I have ever played and beaten, but I do know the story of Bright Falls and how it was initially going to be something else, an open world of sorts, something that didn’t quite work, as it seems. Translating an already crafted open world into a linear style of game is such a monumental task that if I were in that predicament, I’d have considered outright scrapping everything and starting from zero, but that probably wasn’t even a realistic option for the team to begin with.

But that’s not even what I’m specifically referring to. Alan Wake, the game, the package, the copy made out of code and specific sections, is riddled with hiccups and bumps; it’s filled with padding, sections of trees and mist than don’t offer much aside from one or two manuscripts pages and combat sections that can feel overbearing at times, the remnants of its troubled production remain in aspects such as the barren areas and driving sections that don’t have much of a place and are so frustrating to playthrough even if you ignore any cars I just wish they were taken out —tho it’s kind of cute how it also uses the same light mechanic as the rest of the game—,  the encounters with the Taken or the groups of mad crows often lack imagination and enemy variety or don’t jam very well with how the camera works in the case of the camera, and at one point I just kept thinking how much the experience would have benefited if some sections were repurposed in different ways or outright removed.

The imperfections of Alan Wake mostly come from this, factors outside of the game itself, of its story, but they still impact it negatively; I can’t scratch off the feeling of something being lost a bit when all of the boss enemies behave the exact same, the only thing that changes being the creepy lines they spat out and the character model. If the game wasn’t anything more than a series of levels where you shoot at things, then these issues would have rotted its pages…

…luckily, it has a dragon.

Wouldn’t it be funny if I started to praise the actual combat itself after spending two paragraphs criticizing some gameplay sections? Yeah, it would be hilarious! ... ANYWAYyeah I fucking adore the way Al controls. It occupies that same space as Simon from Castlevania, where how slow and imprecise it feels actually benefits the gameplay. You truly get the feeling Alan has never picked a gun in his life in any major capacity; he’s slow, clunky, imprecise, and I wouldn’t want it any other way. The tense dance of using light to weaken the Taken and gen emptying the chambers of them, or hell, simply using a flare and trying to activate the closest generator, it’s a super straight-forward system, and I love it. It’s incredibly satisfying to come out of encounters on top, because even if there isn’t much scarcity in resources (even if you start off each chapter with nothing each time), they are still somewhat limited, especially the most powerful weapons, and little things like mashing X to reload faster or the camera panning out to warn you of nearby enemies are things I didn’t know I needed until now.

It would be a far cry to call it a survival horror, but it’s tense; it’s tense to try to manage the purge while a bulldozer is charging full speed at you; it’s tense to try to outspeed a force you cannot do nothing against; and Alan gets progressively more and more tired. I can make the argument that there should be less of it or at least more variety in what it offers enemy-wise, but nothing will take away from the fact that the core itself is some fantastic shit.

Like… there’s something about fighting against waves of enemies on stage while the sickest rock tune ever plays in the background and the lights and flames fill your eyes that I can only call ‘’fucking awesome’’.




Deemon knew that wasn’t just it. He could talk about flaws and shooting Taken all he wanted, but something else lied within the light. He ran into it.

‘’But there’s something else’’, he said





But there’s something else.

A story already written, touched by the darkness. Written already as a part of it before birth, its muse trying to corrupt it. An ending yet to be typed out.

I have never seen a videogame story that trusts so much that the player will be intrigued enough by it to stick with it and engage with it all the way through. The tale Alan Wake, Alice, Barry, Sarah, and the whole town get tangled into is not intriguing; it is fascinating. I have never felt such closure from getting answers to questions I never realized where there in the first place. From being pretty disappointed about how Nightingale and Mott had such a poor presence as antagonists to being in awe of how their actions fell into place after the truth of this unfortunate series of events was revealed. Alan Wake offers a hell of a mystery. Alan Wake solves it.

The pages of the manuscript are as essential as the cinematics and interactions, so many pieces of the puzzle fit, it’s almost like getting spoiled before something happens, which in a way is exactly what’s happening. At first, I felt pretty disappointed that this would be a jarring light vs darkness story mixed with a thriller. Then it ended up being a meta-narrative within its own meta-narrative. The fact they did that without it feeling overcomplicated or screwing it up is ovation worthy.

But I also feel a huge sense of admiration for the micro-stories at play; hearing and talking to the inhabitants of Bright Falls, listening to Maine’s night radio, the echoes of the Taken and stellar ambience sounds ringing through my ears, the fucking incredible Night Springs shorts that had me HOOKED... It was the little things scattered in the trees and buildings and the small talk that gave this spiraling world even more meaning.

It ends with the darkness hungry for more, just like me. I’ve seen people call Alan Wake ‘’the most 6/7 out of ten game I’ve ever played’’, and even though I do not sympathize with that statement at all because it feels reductive in any context, I kind of get what people mean by it. Alan Wake is profoundly flawed, but most of them do not come from the game itself, but rather from the complicated production it had to go through.  In the face of such adversity, I’ve never seen such confidence, such talent, or such a desire to tell a tale like this. Alan Wake isn’t just *a* story, there’s more to be written and read, but at the end of the day, it’s also its own story. And what a story it is.

Maybe this isn’t what the champion of light could have been if the circumstances were different, but the hardships cannot be avoided, and even after going through them, they really sold me on this novel.

-''I'm a bit nervous''

-''Me too!''

They say as their killer smiles aren't even fazed. That's the kind of attitude I aspire to have when setting off dangerous explosives.

Frog Detective 1 is the perfect example of that breed of videogames I like to refer as ''candy games''; shorter and more laid-back experiences more focused on the adventure of meeting people, doing silly stuff and the interactions that come from it. Or in other, simpler words, lil' goofy treats.

This right here is that entire base idea made into a game. It’s basically just a stroll across this not-so-spooky islands and the interacting with the scientists to solve the most daunting case to ever be, and it’s cute! There are some pretty charming interactions here and there, some funnier than others for sure — Larry and Martin had the best moments by far—, tho overall they felt a bit repetitive at times and at worst some bits felt a bit awkward in a non-intentional way. The style of comedy it goes for isn’t anything new but at its best it really knows how to pull some novel or really funny bits, I just wish some others landed better.

And that’s about it, honestly!!! Aside from dialogue, the other thing you can do is to explore the island and use your magnifying glass for the fun of it, and as much as I love using a fish-eye lens in some of these Muppet looking motherfuckers, it also gets old fast. It’s an idea for more possible visual gags that aren’t explored further, which is how I feel about many other moments in this short mystery. The mouse doesn’t even get to break-dance at the end! What a ripoff!

It's hard for me to get even a bit grumpy about it, and if I started saying that I wished it was more ‘in-depth’ would be straight up silly. It’s a tale about a frog detective, plain and simple, and the enjoyment you’ll get out of it will entirely depend on how much you get charmed by it.

It doesn’t last long, it isn’t much, but it is sweet… just like a piece of candy!

The cutscene that plays when using the dynamite on a battle is the single best thing ever implemented in any videogame in all of human history and I’m only mildly exaggerating.

A macabre festival where the dance never ends, a fever dream made out of bones and clay; Hylics manages to perfectly capture the feeling of a nightmare that seems to be completely absurd, yet it manages to craft meaning within the spiral of chaos. Places with random names located in islands that make no sense; mazes and entire worlds inside machines down ladders that somehow connect, and half of the odd weirdos you come across seem to speak in riddles and the other half take the insanity of this realm as another Tuesday, but all share the incredibly exaggerated animations, that range from the smoothest hand and clay movement you could think of in battles to just three frames for each walk cycle, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

If Hylics delivers something in spades, it’s definitively a sense of style, of harsh clay figurines and contrasting colors, of poems and jokes, with mountaintops populated by cone-shaped cultists and an afterlife full of fishes and a couch. I could list every single area and enemy in this game and say, ‘’WoAH! That was pretty weird and cool!’’, but I think the fact the game is just that, an avalanche of nonsense and weird shapes—and somehow finds a way to make an actually pretty simple tale and a world that has some sort of meaning and makes sense—is far more impressive than the weird moments themselves.

The harsh and quiet melodies, the special moves you get by watching the TVs, the pals you meet along the way; it’s really hard to talk about individual aspects of Hylics because everything seems intrinsically connected with each other and totally unique at the same time, which ironically makes it so some of the moments that stand out like a sore thumb are those in which it feels like the game doesn’t go nuts enough with its ideas.

The combat system, as crazy as some of the attacks get, is still pretty light; there are some cool things about it, like how it connects to the afterlife, some item interactions, and how the game’s own openness makes meeting allies and gaining abilities completely up to you. But I think that’s where the interest peaks, in how the combat is pretty determined by what you do outside of it, and when it comes to battles themselves, while there are some interesting bosses, it soon became pretty clear others are just damage sponges and that you can become pretty powerful very easily, and that plus how the areas are designed often makes combat seem more like a chore you sometimes do to get past a certain point or gain meat and money, and that otherwise evading conflict is often the faster, less annoying option.

And again, it’s in these battles where some of the more abstract and impressive animations can be found, and if anything, the final area and boss fight will ask of you to have gotten many special secret moves and quite the amount of bucks, so it isn’t completely valueless to engage in combat, but in a game with such a crazy atmosphere and universe, I was hoping for something far more engaging.

I was hoping to see more of the party members, who seem to lose their mouths the moment they join you. I was hoping for some of the puzzles to be more out there. I was hoping for more of its insane style to slip into other areas, like the menus or the secrets… Hylics presents an impossibly creative world, and even if it doesn’t last longer than it needs to and it's full of amazing stuff, it feels as if its full potential has yet to be achieved.

But what was accomplished is unforgettable; despite wishing I got to see more of their personalities, the yellow devil and his three friends singing and playing in a bar in the middle of nowhere and plowing through the forces of the moon before facing the final fiend are some amazing moments that made me laugh despite no words being said. Wade is a menace, but not one that has to be locked up; in fact, it should be let out even more wild. Godspeed, you crazy bastard…

Also, big fan of Somsnosa, it’s always nice to see another hat with horns appreciator…

I didn’t even know it was even possible to get combo-ed in Russian Roulette, but the Dragon Ball FighterZ shit the Dealer pulled on me proved VERY wrong. Seeing him with his crooked grin using the magnifying glass into cutting the shotgun’s barrel for the first time felt like being shot in real life.

Buckshot Roulette’s main story is pretty simple; on the first round you learn the most basic rules, and it’ll be the part where luck will have the easiest time to fuck you up, on the second you are given the items and the lenience and strategize with what they provide , and the third one is the final dance, in all the ways. Claim victory, and the bounty is yours, you’ll be done and free… But why not stay for another round?

The introduction of this nasty-ass setting is priceless, I for one love the rusty warehouse this is probably taking place in and bathrooms with the same amount of hygiene that those of my university, all while hearing the music of an unseen party at the very bottom, so far away yet so easy for its sounds to reach your ears. Then you immediately decide to point the gun to yourself, immediately get fucked, and from that moment onwards you know which type of game you are dealing with.

You don’t have much time on your hands, Buckshot Roulette knows very well that this particular little game of theirs can’t really go on for more than its worth, and so it makes the most out of its time. It takes a lil’ bit to take off, as I said the first round consists mostly on you, your ability to count a bit, the Dealer and the gun, so even tho our friend sitting by the table hasn’t entered insane mode yet, luck can really mess with you for a while and not letting you get into the real ‘’good stuff’’.

Die & Learning can only get you so far on here, with the introduction of items, it may not hit as much at the start how useful they just really are. Apart from the phone, which I found to be too unreliable and more of a waste of item slot than anything, every single drug or tool you can get your hands on works fine on their own, but together the options are insane. I only realized this after the Dealer made me wish I had smoked that cigarette, and from there on out is a tense, cathartic mind game, your opponent is not holding back anymore, and neither should you.

Perhaps I’m putting my heart through too much stress, but it’s worth for the rush that you feel in the final round, where it’s all or nothing, either after pulling off some insane-ass trick that works or when backed against the wall and without tricks, going for the gamble of the fucking century and it actually working, those moments are both hysterical and fulfilling as hell… tho… don-don’t go testing your luck unless you need it, i-it can go REAL wrong.

Winning that final bet on the first time and coming out alive on the double or nothing mode (and promptly getting the fuck out), that’s what’s fun, that’s what makes it worth, that’s what will make you keep coming back… true fun for all ages!

The core in here is excellent, it can really grab you beyond the normal mode and I’m really glad ‘’Double or Nothing’’ exists, but it still isn’t more than it is, a rush of adrenaline that lasts as long as it needs you, and welcomes you with open arms if you do decide to come back or stay for a little longer, and some of the achievements are a riot, so it also has that going for it!

When multiplayer gets released it’s gonna the funniest thing ever oh my god, if I already lost my shit wheezing against an AI opponent, with friends this is just gonna be straight up fucked up…

Welcome Back

After Fear & Hunger peaked my interest and watching videos and reading stuff about it , starting to play it full of confidence and thinking that I’d know how to play around its trickery a lil’ bit, only for a malformed Guard to cut my arm off and beat me up till I had no health left, waking up right after without either of my legs and bleeding, surrounded by bodies and gore from which I had to claw and crawl my way out off, trying desperately to find an exit and ending up yet another enemy who promptly took away the only health point I had left, and just when I thought I had finally died for real this time, I woke up once again, and was able to witness how said enemy did something I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t even lay on text on here, watched as the world faded away on those last moments of struggle… that was easily one of the most grotesque, vile yet humbling moments a game ever made me feel.

A feeling that is not mere terror and borders true helplessness, a fate brought by chance and my own hubris, the single best and worst fucking way the game could introduce itself. The Gods are too far away to hear your prayers asking for this madness to stop, but maybe that’s a good thing… maybe a worse fate would await you if they were able to hear them.

The dungeons of Fear and Hunger occupy a space that fascinate me, and it’s kinda funny how that’s a statement that serves well for both the context and lore of the game’s world and outside of it; at its more distilled, Fear & Hunger seems something that The Simpsons or Pen & Teller would have made to parody violence in videogames back in the 90s, it’s a collection of every possible vile or grotesque thing mashed together in a festival of cruelty and pain to such an extreme that should by any means be comical. I don’t blame anyone that hasn’t interacted with the game to only see it at that, when a game starts with a content warning such as this and it’s quite literally called Fear & Hunger, it’s easy to assume that this is gonna be some Itchy and Scratchy shit.

If Fear & Hunger was entirely about that, horrid stuff just for the sake of making people point at the screen in disgust or being cruel to ‘cause pain in the player just because, I do not think it would have garnered the following it has all these years later, it wouldn’t have grabbed me like a leech grabs to a host, that’s for sure. It still can seem a bit silly or ‘’too much’’ a few times, like when you encounter an amalgamation of human flesh and minds and it ends up speaking in the foulest yet most casual mouth you can think off, but I honestly could see those moments being done as such completely purpose, as a small acknowledgement of just how exaggerated this setting can feel at first, or maybe they are just a twisted way to have a little bit of a laugh, ‘cause believe me… there ain’t much to smile at otherwise.

The dungeon seems to have something that calls people —in this case something completely opposite to the game itself—, whether is just the impulse to try it out for yourself to wanting to explore every single part of the accursed catacombs, and when I first played the game back in October of last year… I really couldn’t see why. I could see quality, no doubt about it, but with every turn and step, I could almost feel the game physically rejecting me: being mauled by bogs, getting infected after stepping on a fucking nail and dying because of it, having and undesirable encounter with the Cavemother when arriving at the mines, losing a leg or both because I took a plunge I really shouldn’t have, or that series of, let’s just say, catastrophic events I mentioned at the beginning. Every time I loaded the save, every passing moment, every single hurdle I overcame only to always be met with another that felt even major, I always saw the intent behind it, but I never felt the satisfaction of learning it and gaining the knowledge that comes with it, it only felt like I was being kicked down a stair-case that only got deeper and deeper. I ultimately stopped playing, but I was not free of the dungeon, there was something here that, even tho I didn’t quite understand, kept me thinking about it.

And after months, I couldn’t take it anymore, I caved in, I returned to the dungeon of Fear and Hunger, and this time… well, I actually think it’d be better to say this if I use another example:

After what will be a incredibly high and grueling number of deaths and finally overcoming the upper levels of the dungeon with its Guard and flying Gnome infested halls and torture chambers, and unless you find the Thicket on your first go, you’ll most likely pull the lever you’ll encounter in one of the many rooms, which will grant you access to the elevator that will lead you to the next area… the mines. The mines are the break it or make it point for many players, and in my case, they completely broke me; not because of a certain Crow headed enemy which can break your bones and blind you or the ghost enemies you can’t even hit if you don’t have any cursed weapons or magic, those are bad, yes… But they are not the Yellow Mages. Before this point, the ways you could damaged without engaging into combat ranged from being shot with a bow or stepping on a nail, annoying and potentially mortal, but nothing too dangerous if you know what you are doing, the Yellow Mages then take this and the proceed to take it to fucko-levels. Being able to cast a spell in the overworld which, if you are close enough time or take you by surprise, will make you lose an entire limb, get hit 4 times? You lose all of them. No matter what I did, no matter what I tried, because I always arrived to them really hurt or without a companion, I either died on the overworld, or got killed by them while in combat. I felt powerless and defeated, it didn’t simply feel cruel or hard, it felt like it was a fight I didn’t even had a chance of winning ever. That was where I initially stopped playing, that was where my story with the dungeons first ended, and I look back upon it I only think of stress, fear, and frustration, a mixture of feelings I wanted anything but to experience again… who would have thought that I actually never would, even when coming back.

When I finally returned, something had… changed, not with the game itself of course, bit still, it felt different, I still picked Outlander as my starting class since I really like the survival options it gives and the amazing attack stat, I even picked the same options and the introduction since I wanted to start off with something familiar, but even tho it was the exact same, even tho the dungeon was still the same aside of some layout changes that can happen in certain areas every time you start a new run… it felt different. Maybe I went in with a different mind-set, or maybe it was the fact I already had experience from that past playthrough, but despite the fact I was still dying, despite the many errors and mistake I was making and the punishment the game was putting me through just like it did months ago… it all clicked. I was trying far more stuff, the game wasn’t just a puzlle that consisted on either fighter or evading enemies, it felt much more; the world of Fear and Hunger is as integral as the action in the battles, if not more, and gaining knowledge through books, setting traps for enemies, or even just learning how to get enemies’ souls and upgrading yourself with them, little steps that came with pain and challenges, but also with an enormous satisfaction. I’d die and have to repeat all the process over and over again, but each time faster, more efficient, even when something changed, it wasn’t mere trial and error, it was a continuous experimentation that made going from dark rooms to the deepest of chasms daunting yet worth it.

I learnt and discovered strategies to efficiently take care of the guards, how red and explosive vials can be tools for opening paths and locks but also amazing items to get out to sticky situations, I tried and experimented talking to enemies which even when it most cases didn’t led to much, in others meant basically winning the entire battle or getting an item, I even got an ability which turned the bow, a weapon that isn’t actually that great in direct conflict considering is a two-handed weapon, into something hat can one shot practically every single normal enemy outside of battle. Death at the hands of a boss or the Crowmawler never stopped feeling like a looming threat, but this time it was one that could be overcome, thanks to help of allies as well as the items you can get by defeating them, especially the boss souls. But no moment, no boss defeat, no Crowmawler kill, no item requirement felt as exciting and rewarding as going back to the Yellow Mages, saying ‘’fuck it, we ball’’, trying a new plan and it actually working, making them completely unable to cast spells in battle, and after talking to them in battle, getting an item that an help you recruit a character that not only is a strong spellcaster, but also immortal, AND THEN for him to help you through a certain part of a later area, helping you discover a laboratory that gives you a way to progress without sacrificing any party members, but also that holds one of the most powerful spears in the entire game. Fear & Hunger? More like Hopes & Dreams, because we ridin’ alive out of this one!

It's honestly fucking insane, I don’t think I could put it any other way; I really didn’t have to me an active change to the way I interacted with this experience, and yet through its punishing but constant learning curve, the never ending systems that flow into one another and give so much freedom I’m convinced 90 percent of stuff I did could have been accomplished through other means, everything about Fear & Hunger feels so impossible to describe, once you fully engage with it, not because everything in it is completely original or earth-shattering, but because how immense it feels in spite of how small the dungeon is in reality.

You never achieve a point where you are an unstoppable machine, you can be more of less comfortable with your build and party, but the menace of… you know, dying, never stops being there, your fate can always depend on a coin-toss, after all. I think that the best way to say It is that I’m glad the game is the way it is, a world where luck is a prominent factor, where you can never interact with all of it fully and where a single, tiny mistake result in permanent crippling, hell, even tho I overcame the Mages, I also lost a leg to one of them, making it so I couldn’t run for the rest of the run, one last parting reminder of what I managed to win against, but also of how another mistake like that would spell literal disaster. Yet another way for the game to punish me, yet another way to laugh at it when I triumph despite it all, if you could consider any of this ‘’triumph’’.
Fear & Hunger’s sheer madness and punishments wouldn’t be what they are if it wasn’t because of its world, a world I can’t call alive, not because it doesn’t feel like it, but because it reeks of everything foul thing imaginable. Hell, at times you can be the foul thing, I had to attack an entire village ‘cause I made an accident and fucked up! It fucking sucked and I felt so terrible about it to the point of contemplating trying to load a past save? You bet I did! You are told many times that the dungeon is a horrible place, but no words truly do it justice; it gets worse as you delve deeper, and deeper it delves, to the point of questioning what’s the logic behind this walls, if none. Wretched beings brough by desperation or corruption, fauna perverted by the darkness trying to survive, cults that serve different old gods but share the same madness, and a story of fellowships both in the past and present, all searching something in the dungeon, be it someone, something, desire, or godhood. Fear & Hunger doesn’t have much narrative, the one present being defined and individual to each of the characters, but the story behind and in it is so fascinating to learn about and so horrifying to truly understand that gives so much more force to said individual narratives and a killer fantasy setting.

There are so many reasons the dungeon calls to so many, but I think it all comes down to the experience itself, the idea of finding something you shouldn’t, of continuously experimenting and winning thanks to it, of trying to about starvation and madness by all means and only grabbing onto it by the tip of your fingers, and the idea that every run can go differently not so much because of the random items (tho thank All-Mer for the ones that always are on the same place no matter what) but by decisions you take, the path you decide to go down from, the enemies you face or ignore, the friends or enemies you make. When arriving at the city of M'habre, which has to be my favorite section in the whole game, you could theoretically skip all of it if you killed the other playable characters as Knight or used a ton of Empty Scrolls. You can basically skip three whole major boss fights if you really want to. The fact that’s even a possibility shatters my feeble mind more than spamming Black Orb.

If anything, Fear & Hunger biggest problem isn’t something related to the game itself… it’s how fucking broken it is. I swear the code must have been written on a scroll or something, ‘cause the amount of bugs and glitches is… not really immense, but they a constant and some can even break the game completely, getting you stuck in certain sections or one entire area before the final bosses of ending A and B being completely broken, and in one in particular made me receive that Yellow Mage attack constantly, which honestly may seem poetic, but it made me look an entire hour for solutions, and I ended up having to repeat the whole thing while praying it didn’t happen again. If by any chance what I’ve said about the game has caught your eye and want to give it a shot, by any means, do, but please, install one of the many bug fix patched made by fand (some also include censor mods which is also pretty cool), I should have done it and makes things much better, butt he fact the game still has some of these is infuriating. Getting soft locked isn’t the same type of cruel that the rest of the game goes for, it’s just fucking annoying.

The adventure that awaits everyone in Fear & Hunger is always terrifying, it’s always a race against time and insanity, always a test in resource management and decision making… but it’s also always different, maybe sometimes in the smallest of ways, but that makes an impact, nonetheless. The dungeon forces its players are forced to get creative through sheer cruelty, but it makes those moments of glimmering light the more valuable; even when there are no happy endings at the end of the line, most come down to a simple question; will you let the dungeon change you? Or will you be the one to change the dungeon? Fear & Hunger I can’t recommend like others, if you weren’t interested by it or its premise really irks you, then I don’t think most if the things I said will make you change your mind, and that’s totally fine! I just wanted to tell of my experience with it, what I learnt, what it made me feels, and how it’s much more than it seems, and despite the pain it can induce, travelling into the unknown comes with risks, so part of the course…

After getting endings A, B, D and E, I can say that I have learnt something for sure… Gods are REALLY weak to poison, which hey, kinda nice kowing I can stop an eldritch abomination with a lil’ bit of insecticide!

They did it… I can’t believe it… they really did it! They gave a backstory to the greatest character in the whole game!

THE ROOMBA!!



Playing this just after beating and trying out what Seal the Deal had to offer gives the biggest whiplash imaginable, and not just because the reasons you may be thinking of; yes, opinions on Seal the Deal are widly mixed and Nyakuza Metro seems to be regarded as amazing pretty consistently, but those matters are still subjective all things considered, and I won’t ignore the many fans the former DLC has.

No, what I mean is that after playing such an expansion so focused on fixed objectives and more concised tasks, jumping onto the trains of Nyakuza Metro is like playing a completely different game, and a pretty rad one at that.

Alpine Peaks had already experimented with the idea of Free Roam, and if you read my review on the original game, you’ll know that I really, really love that area A TON, so one of the DLCs exploring that idea again was pretty exciting, but even tho both chapters are open in nature, the metro couldn’t be more different, and I mean that in every sense of the world.

These cat-infested tunnels feel… alive, moreso than any of the previous chapters ever did. Both chapters 1 and 4 introduced more open areas with defined sections you could access at any moment or order, but neither the world itself nor the characters and enemies that inhabit could escape that feeling of ‘’playground’’, of existing simply for you to have cool stuff to jump and dive over. Admittedly, Alpine Peaks (my beloved) came the closes to breaking this with its amazing sense of scale and design, but it still felt a bit gamified, like this was still a place that existed first and foremost to have platforming challenges, which is the objective of any platformer don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t fully succeed in making you forget that, which seemed to be what it was going for.

Nyakuza Metro doesn’t fail, and in fact, it goes above and beyond everything I could have ever expected. The neon lights of the underground are striking from the very first moment you arrive, and if it wasn’t made clear by the far more fluent animations of the Empress and her goons, then everything else will make you realize just how insane of an upgrade everything has received. Food stands and restaurants and every corner, groups of cats gathering together and having conversations you can overhear through out the chaos and movement, trains carried by the tails of huge cats and light the way with their eyes, vacuum cleaners that mix the bouncing platforms and paint mechanic from previous chapters to amazing results, the many side paths or stops you can take and the huge amount of new cosmetics and badges you can purchase… it gives the the metro a feeling of sense and place, one that allows it to feel like a natural space that is, in all honestly, pretty impressive with how pretty and creative it can get, both with new ideas and previous ones.

It makes you feel like a mouse in a crowded kitchen, somewhere you shouldn’t be, yet you manage to find a path. As you hear cats complaining about the complications of the metro system and how hard is to get around, you find unconventional ways that lead you to unexpected paths, it doesn’t feel like someone planned an obstacle course for you to get through, it feels like you are going against the tides and making progress in probably not-so-legal ways. For a platformer to accomplish this while also giving you actually fun challenges is a monumental task, but here they make it look so easy; I never thought running through railways and jumping over electric flyers could be so fun, and yet, here we are! And even in the moments where it feels more like a usual platforming venture, it never feels that striking visual look and it always does something intelligent of fun with its gameplay, like putting the time-stopping hat to much better use than the base game ever did or sections like the electricity ball gauntlet.

It's honestly impressive how well it’s pulled off, how such a cool idea is realized while almost never losing the fun factor… and its exactly why it saddens me a bit that they didn’t go harder with it or explored areas of its potential it clearly had. The metro is divided into colored sections, each with barriers you can unlock by buying the respective ticket and with its time pieces, which an amazing way to go about it… but the fundamental way the time pieces work clashes with the ‘’you gotta open the metro for yourself!’’ idea. Sure, you may grab the ticket before the second or main time piece and that may make getting to the next a liiittle easier, but usually, but the time you get it… there won’t be much left to do in the area, and that goes for every single section. Sure, you can get the stickers and buy badges, and while is fun to grab those little extras, they are a side thing that don’t really impact thing much, and you’ll need money (and probably also farm it, which you know… not fun) for the badges either way, so opening the metro partially or even completely doesn’t make the actual main objective any more satisfying, and in fact you’ll probably won’t interact with it much, which is a huge bummer, ‘cause if they made you to not teleport every time you get a time piece on this one or at least near the entrance of the color area you are on, it would go a long way into actually using the connected nature of the metro, because how it is right now, it isn’t that far off with how Chapter 4 handled it, which worked really well there… but not so much here.

How things are right now, they would have felt much more justifiable if the story played a bigger role this time, but saldy, we only get snippets. The Empress is one of the coolest chapter ‘’villains’’ in the whole game, and the idea of the nyakuza as a whole is super cool, but sadly, aside of the initial presentation and one unique cinematic halfway, you always get a the same cinematic of the goons taking your piece and the Empress saying a new bit of dialogue, and honestly, considering how every single corner of the metro is filled with detail, even the random posters, the fact they main bads/allies don’t have much to say or do until the last mission is a huge bummer, and it double sucks, ‘cause that final mission is amazing!

It does what Chapter 4 and 6 tried to pulled off, except WAYYY better and WAYYY more enjoyable and fun, having one last run through the metro, dodging everything and everyone after the Empress outs a bounty for you is the coolest finale possible and the best possible built up for the final battle, a final battle that…. Doesn’t exist. Yeah, while I talked negatively about the last mission of Alpine Peak and Artic Cruise, them not having a final boss made complete sense, but this time the fact a final confrontation is also mission is the biggest hungover of the chapter. You could say the whole finale is the final boss, and I can kinda see it as that, but the whole time things seemed to be leading up to a fight that just didn’t happen, and it ultimately makes the very ending of the DLC pretty anticlimactic… tho maybe at that point, I’m just lamenting that this could have been greater than it already is.

Nyakuza Metro is an amazing final DLC, most of its problems residing in things carried over from the base game or just small, missed opportunities here and there, but ultimately, it’s a success, and nothing will take that away. Its time rift is a perfect example of it: it isn’t hard, especially when compared to the one from the last chapter, but its’ creative, it feels natural, it’s fun, just like the rest of the package, and when viewing it alone, it’s an incredible platforming experience, and probably the best chapter in the whole game.

The Nyakuza are so cool, I wish cats were real…

I gotta admit, making an entire DLC to have more of Snatcher and include funny adorable seals is the single best motivator I have ever seen… too bad they forgot to include them in an actually interesting package.

Despite the mixed to negative opinions I had heard, I really wanted to enjoy Seal the Deal, and specially everything that has to do with the newly introduced chapter. Cruises as an idea don’t get explored much in games for how fun they can actually be as a setting; call me a sucker for big-ass boats but what can I say, I do really like the idea of playing through big pools, giant malls, dining rooms and decks all in one place, that and some holiday vibes and you hit jackpot!

Through purely visual lenses, ‘’Artic Cruise’’ does succeed in that department; the vibes here are INMACULATE, nailing what a cruise should be and making it feel actually interconnected and pretty natural all things considered, and of course it’s really fun to see new faces and old friends and foes all together somewhere that isn’t the finale, and there are some funny as all hell interactions, especially with the Conductor and the Alpine Peaks inhabitants, and don’t even get me started with the seals that give the DLC half of its name. They can get a bit annoyingly cute at times, but they have some pretty nice and cute jokes to offer and bounce off Walrus Captain hilariously, I honestly wish he had a more dialogue through coms or at least more presence, ‘cause chatting with that grumpy seadog and seeing him react to his crew’s mess what a highlight of the entire thing.

Part of me wonders if that should have been the main focus of the main chapter, a big open level like Alpine Peaks, more focused on light exploration with some challenges limited to each of the cruise’s areas, or on the contrary, a more linear experience like Chapter 2 where you traverse the ship little by little; I’m not saying those ideas are the only ones that could have been done ore are ‘’definitive’’… but are certainly more focused than whatever we ended up getting.

What we have here are two different versions or what are basically fetch quests, and the other basically a mix of that with the last mission in Chapter 4… I do not like the last mission in chapter 4, and here they even re-used the same music and everything! I don’t think going around doing busy work or picking up stuff three different times was a particularly great idea in the first place, but it’s not like they did anything interesting with it: you just go around, picking up plates, broken shards or seals and bringing them to another place, and the only enjoyment that comes of from is the fun that comes from exploring the ship, one that rapidly fades when you noticed just how annoying it is to go through certain section different times or how the camera can get even more terrible than it did in the standalone game. The last mission is probably the most interesting since it changes things up the most layout wise, but it still doesn’t save it from being a backtracking fest or just simply uninteresting, and it just feels like an sped up finale for what it’s the shortest chapter in the game.

I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having a chapter with only three missions (five if you count the other two extra time rift challenges, which are the most difficult in the game so far but still a bit underwhelming), but when in the base game you have 6 act chapters where you do something different in each, here having only three where you repeat the same dance in all of them feels… weird, not even lazy or dumb, just… really weird, and despite its brevity, it gets stale REAL quick.

When it comes to the Snatcher side of things, things get marginally better; it’s effectively remixed versions of past acts, and there are A TON of them, and they offer some cool rewards here and there, but it’s still pre-existing content with not that much changed, and unless you are a die hard fun of the game, I can’ imagine most people will get much out of it. Not a bad mode at all, it uses Snatcher in interesting ways and some of the extra challenges I got to play were really fun, but it’s still highly dependent on content that as already there and was already pretty good, but I needed to get a bit crazier or original to be something incredibly remarkable… new songs and the N64 costume are amazing tho.

Seal the Deal feels more like the cut content that didn’t make it into the full release being put out as it was left, which pains me to say ‘cause I don’t wanna ignore the effort that clearly went into it and the fun that can be found in some of its parts, but overall, I just get the sense of a huge missed opportunity, one that can’t get carried by contract making devils or funny lil’ sea mammals…

Some say that the best things are those that take its time in the oven before fully baking, and let me tell ya…

Tour de Pizza fucking COOKED.


It's almost heartwarming to see this realized: I still remember those first Pizza Tower demos on Twitter and Youtube and the Noise always being in the forefront, either as a boss of major part or them or an outright playable character. As we all know, in the final game he’s World 3’s final boss, not even the main antagonist of the game, tho that didn’t stop this psychotic gremlin from being charming as hell… but nah, I really wanted the fucker to be playable, and more than a year later, he’s here, to the dismay of all Italians.

I would have still felt satisfied if Noise felt less interesting or exciting to play as than Peppino, ‘cause I mean, it’s goddam Peppinno, but no, they just HAD to go all out and make a banger move set. I still don’t really know which of the two is my favorite, but that’s just a testIment of how fucking fun Noise is and how it accomplished what it’s going for: to make you feel that you aren’t playing as an overstressed cook, but as a goddam ANIMAL.

If Pepinno was the ‘’fight or flight’’ concept personified, then Noise is just the FIGHT, he cheats the game’s puzzles how many times necessary, he super jumps whenever he wants, he doesn’t need of Gustavo and Brick to save him, he’s got himself! Literally! Like there’s another one of him just becauseWHAT THE HELL IS THIS CHARACTER. And I mean, they gave him the sausage gatling, so at this point I’m pretty confident saying the game is finally whole, this is it chief, happiness has been found.

It taps once again into that sheer adrenaline burst that the first playthrough perfect, but in a completely unhinged way. Once you learn how everything about this mad lad works, everything clicks, the levels break open and the amount of tricks you’ll be performing are second nature: skate wall jumps, tornado spins into dives into jumps into more tornado spins, pizza crushers that demolish everything without much of a sweat and using it is super easy, and that’s not even mentioning how ALL extra mechanics, like the ghost transformation or the rocket, are completely changed to fit this rat brain’s way of acting, and it’s exciting to learn and glorious to master. They somehow found a way to make WAR harder yet more fun. HOW.

One would think that, since it isn’t a boss anymore, part of Noise’s completely unhinched persona would be lost in translation to playability, yet that couldn’t be further from the truth. Some levels even change lay-outs to fit him better and be more fun, but at this point I think it was the Noise himself that changed the before entering to make his life easier. His animations, how all title cards just have different drawings of his face on top of the characters, his ‘’no thoughts’’ face each time he fights a boss and how he can DEMOLISH them with the bombs (whoever thought of that should get a raise, they are so fun to use), some new songs that I'm 99% sure are just the sounds that play inside of Noise's head, it’s INSANE, as it should and then some.

It's Pizza Tower, it obviously was gonna be insane and good, but this is next level from what I was expecting, and I’m so happy it’s here. Noise Mouse is real bois, just that justifies completely another playthrough of this game, having bomb combos and level variations is the cherry on top…

Still, huge missed opportunity to not have Noisette or any other bosses playable in the Gustavo and Brick sections, like yeah, more Noise is fun, but I just think that- Oh dear, no I didn’t mean to- OH GOD THERE ARE 100 NOISES SURROUNDING MY HOME AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

[IMPORTANT NOTE: This review contains spoilers for the pacifist run, which is the experience I'll focus the most on this write up. I'll mention the other two, both neutral and no mercy, but yeah, if you haven't played the game or done the pacifist route beforehand and are interested... I'd really recommend you to do it before checking this review out]

Ah, what a beautiful day, such a perfect opportunity to finally try out Undertale Yellow! I can’t wait to have a fun, relaxing time playing this little fan project, and I’m sure nothing out of the ordinary will happen while I d- Dra-DRACULA????!!!!

Realizing that Undertale released almost 9 years ago is the equivalent to being shot a cannonball straight to the face, more so than realizing that other games I and so many others played are as old or released even earlier, because unlike practically every single one of those games I can think of, Undertale’s memory feels.. recent. I mean, it’s easy to say for me, I replayed it just a little over two years ago and that probably helps — it’s also the first game I ever logged and ‘’reviewed’’ on here, tho the latter is debatable since the one sentence I dedicated to it is more than a cope-out than a write-up, but I digress—, but even if that wasn’t the case and my only playthrough was the on I did back in 2016, I think that wouldn’t have changed a thing, and I don’t think I’m the only one that shares that notion.

More than a ‘’funny skeleton game’’, hell, more than an inspiring work of art, Undertale was a fucking phenomenon. Its impact on the web being that of a fucking nuke, and its expansive wave hit millions on top of millions of people (and it also left a bit of a toxic waste on some places but that’s not a story for today, nor any other day, we are here to be positive, dammit!), and truly left a mark in countless artists. I swear to god, if you were mildly into the game it was impossible to not see at least of couple dozen things related to it; artworks, comics, remixes and covers, and even reinterpretations or expansions of this world and characters that sometimes even led to fan-games, some of them were certainly silly when looking back upon, but it seems fitting for such a beautifully silly game. So it says a lot when, at the time the tides were at their highest and ideas and projects featuring sans undertale™ were made by the hundreds, the original demo of Undertale Yellow caught so many eyes, including mine. It wasn’t much, if memory serves me right it ended up just after the Ruin’s final boss, but it was clear that so much effort and talent went into it, and that alone made it a charm time to watch or play.

For many fan games, especially one with such ambition, that’s where the story would end, and understandably so; the amount of time, work and sweat that has to be put into even the most (seemingly) simple of ideas is monumental, and for whichever the reason, be it a lack of organization or time itself, many projects never get past that ‘’first demo’’ point. I honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if that same fate would catch up to Undertale Yellow at some of point or another…

but it refused

When a project that originates as a tribute or is heavily inspired by another is in development for seven years, you better believe the people behind it felt a burning passion for what they were doing, and it shows so much it’s blinding. It’s like returning to a home you never wanted to leave in the first place; the quality of sprite work, animations the OST reminisces of that not-so-far long past, but while they hit the ‘’vibe’’ right on the spot, there’s a uniqueness to it I don’t really know how to exactly pinpoint, but it’s there. This is not just a mere mirror of Toby’s work on the original game, nor is it a direct subversion, it’s in this middle ground in which the charisma and quality feels entirely of its own, but I also wouldn’t have bat an eye if you told me if this was all completely official if I didn’t know better. The sprites of characters feel like critters that existed in the original game we never got the chance to see, but some sport some jaw-dropping animations and details that I don’t associate with the likes of Guard Dog or Monster Kid, and yet it doesn’t feel like they’d clash if they sat side by side.

The returning areas, while with considerably less interesting lay-outs and with less to hide than the such of the original Hotland or Snowdin, are places that visually wise stand completely unflinchingly with its official brethren. The returning areas and extensions of them, such as the Old Ruins or the UG Apartments, feel like natural side tracks that breath a new perspective into zones I know like the palm of my hand in case of the former, and that offer a interesting look at how these locations operated in the past —getting to what will become Mettaton’s almost impossible color tile puzzle and seeing it used to be a dancing zone was probably one of the most obvious yet funny jokes they could have ever done and I’m so glad they went for it—,and that’s not even getting to the new areas which believe you me… we’ll get into…

But even more than its visuals, the question that plagued my mind was just how they would attempt to create an Undertale inspired OST without feeling derivative of Toby’s work; let’s just say I’m a big fucking nerd for everything the funny dog man does music related wise, and Undertale’s soundtrack in particular is easily one of my favorites of that time. Does Undertale Yellow’s top it? I don’t know about that… what I do now, is that it certainly looks it to the eye. It’s like being filled with sounds of peace, goofiness, sorrow and determination all over again. It’s so bizarre to hear the work of people whose previous songs I’ve listened so many times (mainly MasterSwordRemix, which also just so happens to be the director of the project) accompanied with real gameplay in a real-ass game, but I’m even more surprised at the fact I can’t genuinely think of a single thing about the soundtrack I think lesser of, both as a direct comparison to Undertale’s and as its own. What they lose in ‘’easy to hum’’ charisma, they make it up with far more complex tunes, motifs to call their own and amazing callbacks past ones. I’m honestly scared which ones I’m sharing on this write up and being extremely picky about because they manage to say so much that sharing some of them at moments they don’t fit would make them a huge disservice.

And I don’t think I will ever be able to stress just how difficult that is, to evade the usual traps that many fan-works fall into , of that deep reverence that ends in a misunderstanding of what really works and what it doesn’t, of just feeling remotely in line with what the original story was trying to tell, how challenging is to achieve all that, let alone in relation to Undertale. There’s nothing like Undertale out there, really, so when your objective is pretty much being placed on the same canon as that game, feeling close would have already neted Yellow a massive home run. And I mean, it already had it difficult enough; being a pre-quel is the route many project like this take, but in this case it was pretty much the only option to take, you can’t really follow up where we once left ‘cause it’ll probably be a unique experience for most players, so this time around the main choice in setting was deciding which color of the soul would be cooler. So Yellow achieving to be ‘’Undertale before Undertale’’ would make it… well, Undertale by again, and it doesn’t matter how much I love that game and how many times I repeat its name (sorry about that) being a past retelling we already lived would have made Clover’s tale… redundant. We know how this will end, we know the beats it will follow, how do you make it more than a palette and character swap?

How do you become more than what you once were?..

Clover’s story begins with purpose. We never get to learn why Frisk went to Mount Ebott that day, nor if they were even searching for something. But this time is different: 5 people have gone missing in that place, and Clover’s gonna find them. From them the usual dance seems to start off. You fall, are welcomed to the Underground, and are taught a bit of the ropes by Toriel, but even after that’s interrupted by yet another fall (I’m fighting the urge to use the clip from that song real badly) and you reach the old ruins, it still doesn’t seem nothing too much out of the ordinary from what you’ve already seen when playing as the seventh fallen human, a pattern that keeps on going when travelling Snowdin… and yet, something feels a bit different.

It could be very much the battle system; Yellow’s combat is a direct continuation of the original work, and what an excellent continuation it is. Everything said about the spritework and music applies once more; all the new faces feel much more lively, with unique animations for movement and when you get to find out how to interact with them, which is still as funny and lovely as it was once. Enemie’s patterns at first can seem familiar, but it doesn’t take awfully long before they go fucko mode: Scrolls that shoot Kamehamehas and robot duck that spice up the music, you choose your favorite, this is a free underground after all! I honestly wished there were more combo battles because the creativity in problem solving and evading is so fun that getting to see more variations of it would be bliss, this game reminded me why I loved this style of rpging so much and gave me even more reasons to love it. Or you know, you could also attack with the different minigames for each weapon and see how the dialogue and sprites of the enemies changes to reflect it.. what? You think I did it? Oh no, I actually watched it after beating the game ‘cause I refuse to damage any single monster. That’s right fellas!

No-mercy run. Not playing. I refuse.

Yeah, all that is incredibly fun and amazing but… I don’t think it’s what feels different. Maybe it’s the more complex puzzles which area ctually pretty damn fun and break away from the usual ‘’tile-set’’ structure of the original. Maybe is the script, which even early on is excellent and the amount of jokes that land and interactions that I find adorable exceed what my poor handle. Maybe it’s How the battle music changes depending of which area you are on. Maybe is Dalv’s prodound melancholy and yearn that also hints at something we never got to know in the outside world. Or maybe is Martlet being the coolest bird I’ve ever met (seriously tho I love her so much and she’s awesome across the entire game and I’m so glad they are a recurrent character oh my GOD she’s amazing). Or… or maybe is a combination of them all, these little things that pile up, little unexpected additions and changes on a path that I’ve already walked. Things that hit at something more than a simple ‘’mix-up’’… and then we fall from the raft.

And that song hits you like a steam powered train at full speed.

The two opening areas are already great on their own, but it’s in the Wild West were the true colors of the game show. While still very linear in nature, the would feel more connected, more expansive; the new and improved mail and transport system, while still not perfect and pretty annoying at times, is a much more natural and easily accessible than something like a mobile phone or the boat sailor, but this feeling isn’t limited to gameplay.

Characters move from place to place and feel like far more active players of the story, so while the cast of major characters isn’t that big and the time we spent with each of them individually isn’t long, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause once they arrive, they are here to stay, which is awesome ‘cause the moment I realized that I’ve be seeing Martlet, North Star and Cebora more I audibly celebrated. Hell, even Dalv ,who isn’t much of a big player after the Ruins, is still there and you are able to visit him, such as with every single enemy of a certain area once you progress. You are constantly getting callbacks to old locations or future ones, as well as heads-ups for new faces you’ll get to see, which is something that was already present in the original Undertale, but here it feels far more direct, and plays much, MUCH more into the narrative.

A narrative so full of wonderful faces that I’m afraid I’ll forget some; I already gushed about Martlet but everyone here is as lovable as ever; I’m obsessed with Starlo and his posse of goofballs, hell, scratch that, I just adore everything and everyone related to Wild East! Probably the funniest section in the entire game and the most creative, never in my life I’ve been so happy to be kidnapped by a band of bandits! The shenanigans with Praxis also crack me up to no end, and you know a game is good when it has a character named ‘’El Bailador’’… probably the first time I ever voiced a character outloud despite being alone, I just couldn’t resist giving him the most exaggerated Spanish accent I could and translating random words, peak character and peak battle I tell you, PEAK!!!!

Which kinda reminds me how great the boss battles are! I’m a bit disappointed that most of them at the beginning are moreso endurance tests than actual fights, tho thankfully changes from the Steamworks onward, but considering how crazy they can get, I think that adding some sort of original solution like in Undyne’s fight more often would have been exciting to see.

Still, they are amazing fights, simply outstanding encounters that made me smile each and everytime, and no matter which ending you are going for, they are something else (I’ve seen the Neutral’s ending final boss and holy hell duse, everything about it is next level, just as the Pacifist’s ending one), but honestly… I’d be hardpressed to think of anything that didn’t make me smile about Yellow’s world and cast. There is an insane of care put into it, the same consideration to the decisions you can make is amazing as always, and seeing other outcomes to me run makes me as happy as it does sad, and hell, they even went and did an ending that couldn’t be canon by any circumstances, and you know what? It was an amazing choice.

But as I finished my adventure and after sitting through the credits… it’s hard to not think of this as what everything should play out, as how things should be. Frisk, despite having a name, it still was very much a vessel for the player, for its decisions and questions… Clover feels different. You still are in control of them in the sense you… well, control them, but they also feel especially distinguished, many times they only have one possible thing to say, what they are thing to say, a even tho no word is spoken outside of dialogue options and responses, the expressions and animations it displays and says much, about who they are, where they come from… what their purpose is.

Undertale Yellow is yet another tale about determination, about monsters and humans, about how the war has driven them to an unjust eternal prison some find impossible to accept, about justice and friendship… but it’s also about purpose. Each character seems muffled with this idea, be it a lack of it or one so massive and seemingly inescapable that it’s suffocating: Starlo’s self imposed title as a false sheriff that is eating him from the inside, Praxi’s and the Gardener’s final orders given before everything went sour, Cebora’s regret and desire to continue something left unfinished by its loved one. Hell, in a way , even Clover is fighting against Flowey’s constant nagging towards a selfish objective… and against his initial objective. This theme was already palpable in many of the characters from the original game, but here it seems to be brought to the forefront; this undertale is about these monsters, how the chains they willingly carry affect them deeply, and how they ultimately defy them not out of cowardness, but because it’s the right thing to do…

… the right thing to do

It’s been a while since a game’s finale has gotten me this badly. In a way, is kinda funny, the only time I wasn’t smiling, I was criying… Undertale Yellow’s bittersweet pacifist ending is the best thing I could have asked for as a send off, it may have hurt, yes, but the fact it did knowing full well in what way this strory had to end… that, that makes it more. It says so much, it celebrates so many, like, this game has Red! RED! If you know, you know, and I knew, and I was sooo happy! And even a moment so cool but transitory such as that one still made me reminisce… of how far passion can go for, years will go by, but Undertale’s memory, those moments, will stick, in the good and the bad, and now Yellow is not only a mere footnote or passing experience… it’s more.

To put into more blunt words. Undertale Yellow is probably the best fan work I’ve ever played, and even tho it seems silly to say when barely two months ago I played another fan game I praised with a similar phrase and when I still don’t consider it without its flaws, I have never meant it more… it’s a tale with purpose, full not of LOVE, but love.

…huh, now that I think of it, Chujin’s pursue was to truly leave a mark on the Underground, to change it for the better…

…and yet, even if it was not the earth shattering impact he and ultimately Cebora were expecting… he and her did nonetheless, maybe in the smallest of ways, but in the most impactful.

You hear a call for help

You answer it

Why yes, I know of A Hat in Time, also known as the second-best Hat based 3D platformer released on October of 2017 ever made!

In spite of my repeated claims of love towards the 3D platforming genre, I would lie if I said I played every single one of the so called classics—I’ve yet to touch a single one released on the PSX that isn’t Medievil and play any of the 3D Rayman games—, but beyond that lack of experience with older titles on my end, the main reason I haven’t actually sat down and played more regularly newly released 3D platformers is because… there aren’t many to choose from. It's a game landscape somewhat rejected by most bigger studios, which tend to see the concept of platforming in a 3D space the concept or base for a bigger game in another genre rather that it’s own, and at this point, it has become somewhat of a special occurrence when two major titles of the genre release withing the same yea, hell, we are already lucky if at least one does.

With all that said, it’d be impossible to categorize the genre as as ‘’dead’’, not by a long shot; the indie scene is doing gods-work for that to be a remote possibility, and now-a-days, I kinda associate it with that scene, not that I think of it as a smaller or more niche genre than what it once was, on contraire, it’s a vibrant, more personal and passionate landscape, the ‘’people’s games’’ so to speak, and I think that particular spark that each developer both what makes so many people feel like they are gambling

A Hat in Time released on a very interesting year for the genre, not necessarily the best or worst, but it certainly had variety, with released from big publishers and small teams, of majestic quality and of pretty big disappointments, and it’s in this year which was probably the most full the genre ever had during the past decade, in the month where the band new 3D Mario game released, it’s where despite it all, A Hat in Time shines.

I can’t really tell what the game is going for exactly visually and tonally, but whatever it is, keep it coming ‘cause it works. If I had to compare it to something, I guess the best thing would be the sometimes referred as ‘’double A’’ games of the sixth and seventh generation. Those character models than can look rough and sometimes even clipping into each other but are so cartoony and full of life that is more than worth it, that humor that should tonally clash with the cutesy vibe but instead it works to a tea, the incredibly silly storyline that finds ways to be memorable… It’s not the prettiest nor the the funniest game out there, but it still exceeds at those areas, with some parts and scenarios looking kind of beautiful or selling completely the spooky or silly vibe, and with jokes that in any other context would make you wonder ‘’how did they get away with this?’’ with how deranged and good they can get.

It can sometimes feel all over the place, like pieces of different puzzles that somehow fit, which I’m inclined to believe it was intentional with how the rest of the is. There are four different worlds divided in four chapters, and when playing through ‘’Mafia Town’’—ignore for a moment that is quite possibly the singles best idea for a first world to ever be thought of— I thought I knew what this was going for, a Sungine/64 like game, with big open levels you can explore that change a little bit every time you go to a different mission, or ‘’act’’ as they are known in this game. And I mean, yeah, all worlds are divided into acts you must beat before facing the final boss of each world, and there are some extra challenges you can find that reward you with a Time Piece that are VERY Sunshine inspired with what quite possibly is one of the most relaxing tunes I’ve ever heard, but aside of that… you better be prepared from some chaos!

You got everything you could possibly dream of: two birds (one of whom may or may not be racist towards penguins) competing to get a movie award once again after years of rivalry and you being thrown into the mix to help both and give the victory to one of them, a spirit infested contract based spooky forest that has both one of the most intense moments I’ve lived in any 3D Platformer ever and a fight against a haunted toilet, and a free roam mountain top stage that is the only of its kind in the base game. There ain’t much consistency here, and that can actually work; it made each of this random ass places and these weird mafia mobs, birds, ghosts and goats that inhabit it all the more endearing. Everything that has to do with Snatcher or the Conductor and DJ Groove is gold I swear to god, their whole chapters being centered around them and the movie sets or deals they out Hat Kit through made them even more memorable than they would already have been… AND IF THAT WASN’T ENOUGH THEY GOT SICK AS HELL THEMES WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

The music in this game also doesn’t make any sense, but not because it’s absurd or inconsistent, but because it’s too fire; it’s a constant blessing to the ears, with either bombastic and exhilarating themes or the most calming and fitting sounds to ever be thought while jumping and diving. I already linked two completely different yet amazing songs, and I could fill this review with even more, this is one of my favorite overall OSTs I’ve heard in a while, there’s a reason so many people use all the Chapter 2 songs to put in the background and Your Contract has Expired blew up years back, it’s too good to pass up.

The lands of A Hat in Time are plagued by charisma and charm, the only thing that would make them better would be being able to traverse th- OH WAIT YEAH! Hat Kid’s move set is actually pretty deceiving; it seems pretty in both theory and practice, it’s just a double jump, a dive and an attack button, but it actually that allow for super fluid and creative movement, and that make it even more rewarding to pull it off. Even when you are not tested with a mini challenge to earn an item or pons, it’s always a fun time to bring the movement to tis limits; you are almost invited to skip sections and reach certain parts in a way the game didn’t plan to, either through pure movement prowess or intelligent use of the hats (Fast hat and Fox-mask my beloveds…).

Getting any kind of reward, be it a Time Piece or something like a Badge or cosmetic change, feels fulfilling not only because the process of getting it is fun and unique, but also you most likely gained something else along the way, like reading a fun story as it unfolds… if that story had a bit of an annoying camera.

As much as I love how A Hat in Time nails the creativity and fun actor, there’s always a thing or two that puts a sour taste in my mouth. At best they are annoying decisions that really don’t make much sense, like blocking certain acts behind a pong-wall or making the grappling hook a badge instead of a direct upgrade, they both don’t seem like that big of a deals, but the former is incredibly inconsistent (and this time not a good way) and it only serves to take away your pongs at random intervals, which is something I simply do not understand when it’s limited to the first two chapters and when there’s already so many stuff to spend off and losing that money on something because the game said feels unwarranted; and the latter is… it’s just a bit dumb I think? The grappling hook becomes an integral part of your set once you get it, and practically all of the following challenges require you to use it or, at the very least, make traversal much more natural and fun, so from that point on you’ll essentially only have two badge slots since one will always be dedicated to it, and I personally think that incorporating to the roster of Hat Kid’s permanent tools would have made MUCH more sense.

But still, those things don’t necessarily worsen the experience… others very much do tho! You are never in full control of the camera, which is fine since it has clearly been thought out to work better in more open spaces and in those instances is buttery smooth, but then there are moments like Chapter 2’s Act 2, which is a super fun stealth mission focused on gathering clues while exploring a train, that I’s absolutely true, but is in those moments where the camera’s weaknesses shine bright, making it impossible to really know what’s ahead or even where you need to go, since your main hat will always point to your final current objective and nor the place you need to go first (which is another can of worms of its own), and moments like this are scattered through the game and make me wish they did something similar to how it is in Vanessa’s Manor or Chapter 4’s windmill. As it stands, is a looming annoyance that pops out here and there, just how the attacking dive can be a pain in the ass to know at which height you need to be for it to work, or how the checkpoint system can screw you off at a moment’s notice if you fall in the wrong place, or how the can get surprisingly buggy or sometimes say ‘’NO’’ to the strategy you wanted to do with random invisible walls, or how- I think I’m gonna leave it there to be honest…

It's a congregation of decisions and dumb mistakes that pile up and can sometimes make segments feel a lil’ bit like you are doing a to-do-list, which is funny ‘cause in Chapter 3 you do exactly that except it really doesn’t feel like it! It was during Subcon Forest that I begin to get suspicious but in Alpine Skyline I felt it was confirmed; most of these problems were most likely originated in early development, ‘cause A Hat in Time, even with this mistakes on its back, just keeps getting a better. Mafia Town is not a bad introduction and I do like it in some ways, but also presents some problems and structure the other chapters don’t have, like incredibly simplistic boss fights, having to repeat some sections or getting lost through the map to find sometimes, or secrets that aren’t that fun to get; it works but it’s hard not to look at it as the weakest of the bunch, and hell, I’d say the Mafia are funnier in the following chapters and on the ship than in their own town!

It's certainly a humble beginning, a charming onje no doubt, but one that pales in every department with what come next; Battle of the Birds is a super cool set of more linear challenges with and creative sets that gets brought down a bit by some strange decisions (needing to go Chapter 3 before being able to finish breaks the pace completely for me) and the fact that main point of the whole chapter doesn’t really play into much with the final fight except for some model swapping, which doesn’t change the fact that the Conductor/DJ Groove fight is incredible, I just wish it had a little bit more meaning beside DJ Groove getting too cocky or the Conductor being a petty bastard. Subcon Forest is where the true magic happens, the contract system doesn’t really play into much, but it justifies the act system way more, and the area itself hits the spot with its spooky looks as different sections, and has my two favorite fights in the entire game and my favorite level, so yeah, hard not to love it. And then… there’s Alpine Skyline, I’ll say right now that I thing its finale its pretty annoying and doesn’t really play into the potential of the area, but aside from that, this is the highest peak of the game for me, there’s no contest. Maybe I like too much this style of semi open world divided into more linear challenges, but I’m sorry, this area has it all; a killer setting and design, the most fun platforming obstacle courses in the game, a completely free roam experience that feels open even when you are following a set path, and the lighting system to mark you finished treasure hunting in a certain sections it’s a simple yet genius touch I wished other parts of the game had.

A Hat in Time is a testament to improvement, at how a game can get even better as it goes along and end on a higher note than it ended with, but even more than that… is an ode to fun. You can sit down in a ton of places just to admire the scenery, you can do certain emotes that don’t affect the game at all but are just fun to use, you can screw around the main space ship and find random secrets like Hat Kid’s hideout and learn about her thoughts after each completed act. Things that if they weren’t there I wouldn’t have complained, but now I can’t imagine the game without them, and it’s filled to the brim. It’s an experience made out of love that ‘s hidden even in the most obscure corner, a love visible even in he rougher edges, a love that’s shared by so, so many.

A Hat in Time is ‘’the people’s game’’, the workshop is put at the front of the main menu and mods and the community work are baked into the game itself, a celebrated effort that’s only there because the has managed to inspire even 6 years later, and I can sit all day and complain all I want, but that’s always gonna be there, and people finding ways to be in this crazy-ass mafia filled world just a little longer is wonderful to see, and understandable; A Hat in Time is charming, it’s fun, to point of being contagious, you could even say it made me feel the normal amount of empty inside, maybe even less.

It's a game that says ‘’Get lost!’’ to grumpiness, and I for one join it in its chant! I’ll be back real soon to seal more deals and explore the metro, that’s for sure, how could I say no to more of this kind of 3D platforming playfulness?

My past self: ''Y'know, I think it's time I give Breakout a shot! It'll take me what, 10, 20 minutes to get something out of it? I'm sure I'll be done in a while...

My present self (2 hours later): ''Y'know, I used to be fucking stupid when I was younger!''

And you mean to tell me that founding Apple is Steve Wozniak's highest achievement? But... this shit is better than the MacBook!

Despite so many years of playing Breakout in different versions and in scattered moments, it never truly hit me till now how much fun of a game it actually is. You could have fun by yourself in Pong, it’s just like bashing your head against a wall: even if you end up enjoying, it’s not gonna last very long before something caves in.

Breakout answers to that idea by making that wall fun to bash against! It’s a back and forth against yourself that feels rewarding beyond the mere act of seeing the number score getting higher; dismantling that multicolored wall piece by piece is as simple as it is addicting, which it’s a lot.

Even tho Breakout’s pitch is pretty much ‘’Pong but singleplayer focused’’, I also like to think of it a sort of reinterpretation of pinball machines into videogame territory. A really simplistic one to be sure, but that lifts of elements from it that fit —like the strike system, with a certain number of balls given to you per coin to get a high score—, but also shifts away from the ‘’choose your own path/route’’ that the best machines make you feel and instead puts your objective in front of you. Am I overthinking things? Most likely! But it’s hard to not let your mind ponder over the little things as you break away and have a fun little time.

It’s one of those games that just works… except when it doesn’t. The rather clunky hit detection that was already present in Pong hasn’t gonna go anywhere, I would like to say that it’s just a matter that the paddle’s hitbox as the paddle itself, but it seems to depend more from where the ball is coming, sometimes making contact is enough, others you need to line up perfectly, and it can feel a little discouraging when it messes you up when you are having a good run. It does fix the speed of the ball on spawn tho, it makes it pretty much impossible to miss in your first throw and eases thing into getting as fast as hell, so ya win some ya keep some, I guess…

Breakout is still very much a win, and it doesn’t need dragons on the cover art to show that, it’s another piece of the massive domino that was the arcade industry of the 70’s, piece that would lead to amazing games like Space Invaders, but also a great piece on its own.

Let’s see how well you can fly on borrowed wings


Call this game V.IV Rusty, ‘cause it never fucking misses

Armored Core VI has been one of the most positive surprises I’ve had when it comes to pieces of media, and I already went into it expecting to love it or at the very least like it, mind you, but it seems that my fate wasn’t to come out of this with my expectations set ablaze and built a new.

And thing is, not really knowing the extent of what I was getting into was completely my fault, Fires of Rubicon is the sixth numbered title in the AC series and the- HOW MANY NOW?!. It’s certainly not lacking the pedigree, and yet, probably because of the 10 years of radio salience the series has gone through, and 11 of a wide-world phenomenon that has changed the videogame industry forever that is the ‘’SoulsBorne Demon Ring I, II and III: Shadows Die Twice’’ saga, my understanding to Armored Core as series wasn’t as rich as I wanted it to be, and that kinda left my expectations for IV in a weird spot .

This not to say I expected Fires of Rubicon to be ‘’just like Dark Souls’’ or something like that, I knew this was going to be completely different; I knew a bunch of stuff and how the series worked, I knew how the series worked…

Except I didn’t.

I expected a fun mech game with deep customization options. I got that, yes…

But also so, so much more.

What’re ya buyin?

Welcome to your new living space: four cold and oppressive metal walls, a store that sells weaponry that I’m pretty sure breaks every Geneva convention both existing and yet to be written down, and like 5 different disembodied voices telling you in different ways that you gotta do some killing… joy!

You make home in different bases throughout the game, but you really wouldn’t know unless the game told you, they all serve the same purpose in the end: to make your mecha the ugliest piece of junk imaginable.

I’ve heard people say that you’ll spend the same amount time buying parts and building your mech as you do going ‘’pew-pew’’ in your comically big killing machine, but I don’t think that’s entirely true. The down time and management are the spine of ACVI; there’s a reason every time you die while in a mission the game gives you the option, to change your mech, you are gonna be taking a lot of work and not every question has the same answer… but you can make them be close enough! Even when the game poses some extremely daunting challenges, you can still say ‘’fuck capitalism’’ to the store and keep trying with your current build if you feel comfortable with it, I started using a Dual- wielding medium to light build pretty early on and even after all the upgrades and changes, that idea was kept intact even after the credits rolled.

Still, the game invites you to experiment and actively rewards you: the number of possible combinations is so humongous I don’t think it’s even possible to quantify from the essential legs which can define your entire giant robot to seemingly smaller things like add on and secondary weapons, but just as equally important, every single piece counts, and you are never punished for trying stuff out. Even if you create a mech that doesn’t even make sense of whose weapons don’t synergize with each other, doesn’t matter even if you spent all your money making it, ‘cause you can always sell those suckers for the same price you got them, ‘cause there are no obstacles to have fun in war!

But even with that freedom to try and fail, I imagine many players will center around one overall idea, and how not to when the game is equally as rewarding in that way? I feared that I’d treat my mech as a sort of ship of Theseus, making builds so specific that I’d have to constantly change it to the point it was unrecognizable from what it originally was, I waited for that moment to come sooner or later… but it never really did. Even against the end boss of the first chapter, an enemy that seems scientifically designed to make new players get into the idea they need to buy new shit, and probably the boss I struggled against the most… I ended up defeating them with the ol’ and reliable.

Building up a mech is important, but it’s equally as essential to knowing them. It doesn’t really mean much to understand some numbers if on ground you don’t know how anything works, and that’s what I found fascinating about the system; a system that rewards those who wish to experiment and those who wish to perfect themselves, plowing through enemies or figuring them out, sometimes both at the same time in both cases. Even if your robot starts as a Wall-E and ends up an Mazinger Z, your relationship with it feels the same, it feels as you made it grew and change, just as much as you did as pilot with it.

And that reminds me, speaking of the battlefield…

Got a job for you, 621

Oh boy!

You know what’s better than preparing to do cool stuff? Doing the cool stuff! If by cool stuff we mean committing acts that will forever hunt our darkest nightmare and make our consciousness eat us, of course.

Fires of Rubicon is not an action game, the game is the action. You know those dumb ‘’imagine showing this to a small Victorian child’’ memes? Well, Armored Core VI is that but like if instead of ‘’Victorian child’’ was ‘’any person during any age of history, even the current one’’, and I mean that the highest compliment I could thing of. There’s so much stuff happening at every single moment at every single second that the fact is all perfectly understandable must be some kind of deep dark magic shit. The freedom in this 3D movement goes beyond giving you space to shoot and gives you some damn crazy movement options, and you either have to use them or you better have good shields, because in this battlefield nonstop attacking and quick thinking are imperative.

Bullets flowing like traces of light or giant lasers impacting at full force, it’s a constant onslaught which you WON’T come out unscathed, but certainly victorious. This is the anthesis of ‘’You only do cool shit during the cutscenes’’, because you are the cool shit, and every time a character points out how fucking insane you are I don’t feel like the game is patting me in the back, I feel like… Yeah! I actually did that cool shit! Give me that trophy I deserve it!

The variation on missions and the places you visit feels so vast and natural I really couldn’t care if they get repeated, because even when they do, if feel warranted in the broader context and it’s always so fun to repel the forces of basic mechs, destroying or defending the objectives or facing off against enemies equal to you that I kind of secretly wish there was even more of it.

Battling against other ACs is such a pleasure, and whoever came up with the idea of the Arena deserves a goddam golden medal; not only it’s a perfect excuse to ‘’meet’’ other pilots and ACs you may or may not encounter in the game, but it’s also the perfect connector to make the OS system even more rewarding and to test your abilities as well as to learn from other builds. But it’s when you get to encounter real ACs in the wild that the true dopamine starts running wild; some of the hardest battles in the entire game are those against pilots that feel like other protagonist, with access to the same crazy weaponry and the ability to heal. It’s incredibly rewarding knowing that you defeated someone that was basically another you with different equipment, almost as much as when you defeat someone that’s straight up stronger than you.


The bosses are BY A LONG SHOT the moments where the spectacle is brought to a insane degree, but never to the detriment to the fight itself. It was during the fight against the ‘’gimmick’’ boss of the game and I realized how much fun I was having, and my jaw was dropping that I knew fully that this was a damn good game. Speaking of, I wish I was recording my face when fighting against one of them, it was a crazy-ass battle that feel even more of a bullet hell than any previous one , and I managed to defeat them with only one heal left and with my resources low… and then the fucker started rising again. I felt both so betrayed and happy that I could only nervously laugh, what an amazing bunch of bosses.

If I have to point out flaws, and I do ‘cause there are two things that irked me, would be the seemingly lack of any sort of real punishment and… the lock-on system. Previous AC game featured a debt system that could put you in the red and make you have literal zero money, and while that also seemed to have its surprising gameplay ‘’benefits’’, it was a system that I totally get why it didn’t return and money lost after every mission to pay off repairs is more than enough… but I still think there should have been something that punished you, if not for your using your resources, maybe because of reckless deaths or decisions. Because not every mission has provisions to pick up ammo at a certain point, I found myself letting me be killed or resetting back to the last checkpoint, knowing not much progress would be lost and the punishment wouldn’t be much higher. I only realized this four chapters into the game, but even before that I noticed that the game too lenient considering the setting and how the rest of the world operates, and even if it’s not necessarily a flaw, it felt off in some way… you know that it’s a flaw tho?

The lock-on… isn’t the worst, once you are locked in to an enemy you are set unless it pulls off some whacky stuff, and the red reticle tells you perfectly if you are hitting the enemy or not… but getting to that point is so confusing, so poorly shown, and it’s so hard and cumbersome to change between enemies in a game so fast paced, that I couldn’t help but groan at it every time a speedy bastard attacked me from behind and by the time I was finally locked I had to spend one heal, not even the manual aim upgrade helps much in that regard…

The lock on is probably the worst part about the whole experience, and its something that doesn’t even come close to make the battles less enjoyable, and hell, sometimes I even… like it? In boss fights specially, the little bit of confusion feels warranted and makes you rely more on your control over the camera, which ends up being the right call to evade many attacks. But even when it’s noticeably bad, it will take much more than that to ruin a combat so polished, so fun, so exhilarating and exciting as this. It’s in the middle of the action when I can only think of the battle, it’s in the store when I think of the planning, and everything flows perfectly…

But it’s in those moments in the middle of nowhere, or when seeing the briefing, that I remember.

There’s a greater horror beyond the scorched skies.

A winged mutt

The first mission of the game is to wipe out entire battalion of resistance members fighting for their land, just because they are a nuisance to a conglomerate.

The next mission is to destroy that company’s forces ‘cause another conglomerate told us to.

Welcome to Rubicon.

To be honest, this particular introduction is nothing new for this series, the very first game in fact has a really similar first mission tot that of VI, and this is where my lack of knowledge comes into play since I’m not really able to compare this game’s story to that of its previous iterations in any meaningful way… but I can look it as its own.

I can’t tell you how many times I was hearing the briefing of many missions and the only thing I could picture in my mind was the CEO of Arquebus saying something along the lines of ‘’Human rights? In this economy?!’’

There’s something so uncannily real about Fires of Rubicon horror, a silenced horror beyond the great threat that a possible return of the Fires of Ibis could entail, that threat feels cosmical, a cataclysm humanity has witnessed and its terrible result… but what’s more terrifying than that is seeing two corporations grander than entire system on a race to make that happen once again, a clash to the Armageddon only stopped by their own hubris and the efforts of the rubiconians.

Entire cities covered by snow and decay, their buildings now used as cover for weapons that should have never existed, companies and the PCA creating entire edifications in mere days, in the remnants of the institute of Rubicon, a memory of a series of mistakes that costed an entire solar system. The game tells a lot of this story through briefings and mid-level conversations (Kind of Kid Icarus Uprising, now that I think about it), and it even uses this information to surprise you with the complete opposite or something unexpected, but it’s in the levels themselves, with its amazing visuals and design, where the true tragedy of Rubicon is apparent.

Fires of Rubicon is a story that branches off even beyond the credits, but one that also feels perfectly told in its first run. What I thought would be a backdrop that gives context to why are you shooting ends up being everything, and the reason you yourself question why are you shooting.

It feels so violent, more so than the hectic combat, a story of broken pasts and promises, of lies on top of lies that end up in cataclysmic results, and of those that pursue the truth end up being the most vulnerable.

You arrive with a stolen name and as a dog of many owners, to a world where nobody has a face nor a real name, where they are but numbers from a series of gens of mechs and upgrades, where those who are on top of the world don’t trust those who are a little higher on the food chain, those who don’t even show themselves, as if terrible war they started is beneath them.

Nothing matters if credits are spent; even after you begin wars against them, you still buy parts of your mech from those same companies.

Little by little, I found those to call allies, like Carla or Rusty, and those to hate, like Snail, but even in their misfortune, they at least have a voice, unlike the thousands, maybe millions, of rubiconians, as muted as their cousins of the ever-expanding coral.

But even the end, is those voices that end up joining you against a force so massive it seems impossible to know where it begins or where it ends, so inhumane that knowing people are behind it all makes it even worse, and yet, you fight, you win your wings.

You are Raven.

I love this story, I love how open ended it ends, almost inviting you to explore more, but also being hopeful if you did the right thing, if you improved and knew who to trust and what you needed to do, a story that made each battle have the more meaning, and that made the final decision and the final fight some of the most bitter sweet moments I’ve experienced in a game.

Looking back, I almost feel ashamed, I expected so much less from what it ended up being, an inspiring trust in the player, an amazing combat and movement system, a story that is as grand, as tragic, and as terrifying as it needs to be. But also even more than that.

I arrived at Rubicon not even knowing what I was gonna fight for.

Turns out, I had to find the answer for myself.

Was gonna start with some sort of intro or joke as always but now that I think about it I just wanna quickly say that I adore this game’s box art. The Castlevania series has always been synonymous with banger artwork but the composition and colors in this one are something else, and it’s probably the most menacing Dracula has ever looked in one of these so far… but that shield and sword that Simon is carrying are complete false advertising, that mf isn’t gonna use anything but the whip on this one!

The Adventure is quite a curious entry; as the last game of the series before Akumajou Densetsu, it would be easy to assume that this game was actually the true return of the series of its original roots — unless you count Haunted Castle and its Zelda CD-i looking ass… oh god I’m gonna end up playing that one aren’t I—, but actually, The Adventure feels more like an adaptation of that original adventure into a more simplified platformer, with even the losing power-up system akin to that of the Mario series on top of the usual health-bar and far more simplified and bare level design… oh and also if the original game was kind of a slog.

Christopher is a Belmont, and that means it should have the usual walk full of determination and commitment-based jumps… emphasis on should. The Adventure is s l o w, and when I say slow, I mean s l o w, and it not in a way that feels deliberated. I genuinely thought I was playing as the first protagonist in a game to have arthritis: Chirstopher’s movement doesn’t feel rewarding or like it has heaviness of it, instead it just feels like he’s sliding at a snail pace and like he’s being pushed backwards everytime he jumps, and you know, that’s already pretty bad, but I’m not even taken into consideration the slowdowns ON TOP of that!

I kinda associate this series with framerate problems, it’s always a price that the series has paid in service of its striking vistas and its spectacular boss fights and levels, and I’ve always refrained from mentioning it simply because it was never a problem that really got in the way of my enjoyment of past games and I every time it happened I just thought ‘’yeah, makes sense honestly’’. Here in Game Boy Land however, this old friend has decided to he’s gonna appear more than normal! From the moment the game starts it dawned on me that this wasn’t going to be a very pleasant adventure, and it never really got better, ‘cause even in those moments my jump wasn’t incredibly delayed, and enemies weren’t moving in power-point presentation mode, it didn’t matter because the base movement still sucked!

I believe that single HUMONGOUS problem caused a ripple effect in which other hiccups, some which were already present in previous and even future games of the series, were made even worse: ledge-jumping was a particularly annoying challenge in Simon’s Quest and it would return as the basis of many platforming challenges in IV, but at least in those two you felt in control of Simon, so imagine having to do the same on here but with a less responding character and the punishment being either to have to repeat an entire section or instant-death, at that point I’m sure it would be at least 10 times more fun having to clean Dracula’s own coffin for an hour straight.

The Adventure has interesting sections, mainly the eyeball bridge in Stage 2 and the entire first section of Stage 3, and other moments show snippets of a interesting and possibly fun game, but they are constantly interrupted by incredibly uninspired or frustrating challenges, inconveniences that feel like another level of tomfuckery — even for this series—, and the entirety of Stage 4, which I like to call ‘’The Gauntlet’’, and not in a loving way. If anything, this game has made me gain a much greater appreciation for Super Castlevania IV, ‘cause both games share that same problem, the difference of course being that in here they are much worse. And hey, some complain than in IV there aren’t any new secondary weapons or don’t feel as useful, but hey, in The Adventure there aren’t any to begin with and all your whip upgrades are gone if you are hit even once! JOY.

I’m not entirely sure how much this game being on the system it’s on got in the way of what the game wanted to do, and even if I can still commend the effort of translating a series into the handheld verse, I can’t justify its myriad of problems when nothing about the game itself gives a sense of unbridled creativeness or just general competency. Comparing this to even Simon’s Quest, my least preferred of the original NES trilogy, would be a disservice to the latter, because that game, even if in my opinion failed to bring to fruition most of its ideas, it tried, and in the process created a wonderful and original world and had many sections I do enjoy. In The Adventure, aside from two or three scattered parts in is three first levels, the only thing I got out of it is frustration and a profund sense of boredom.

All Castlevania games made me feel the former at times, but they always were much, much more than that. The Adventure has cool ideas, cool music, some cool visuals, and very little else. I’m sure there could be a good game in here, and maybe eventually there would be, but right now… I would prefer to not see the first boss in my entire life again, thank you very much…

So you are telling that not only has the Count tried to destroy an entire country multiple times employing the foulest, most monstrous forces ever conceived… but he’s also hoarding riches and making entire pools out of them Scrooge McDuck style? He really is a monster!

No but really, the fact that money can literally kill you is some next level commentary through gaming, Konami really was onto something back in the day…

Castlevania IV is… weird, and not because it differs a ton from its peers, but because of the complete opposite reason: the original NES/Famicon trilogy, as unabashedly hard and obtuse as it could get, was probably some of the most unique and impressive collection of games hat the 8-bit machine had to offer, but not only compared to other games, amongst themselves. For better and sometimes for the worse, each of the games are so distinct from each other at their core that if the team really wanted to, they could have created another two IPs, but they still feel deeply tied with one another and the connections, evolution and experimentation are what make them such an impressive trilogy. Even when Dracula’s Curse went back to a closer style of gameplay to that of the first one, it still felt different, but no matter what, it always felt like Castlevania. And hey, IV does feel like Castlevania too!

… and that’s about it…

Well, actually, even if it seems like I’m presenting that as a complete negative, that would imply this series isn’t the amazing bastion that is, and if even the first game in the series was already bringing the console it was on to its limits, Super Castlevania IV wasn’t going to break tradition: this game. Is. GORGEOUS. Some backgrounds aren’t the prettiest and some color selection stuck out to me as, to put it bluntly, pretty jarring, but I think that’s because the rest of the game establishes a standard that of the Mona Lisa. Simon and the foes he must face look flawlessly, perfectly horrifying, beautifully haunting, every single returning face is the most perfect translation into the 16 bit realm you could think of, and every new enemy fits with the crew like they’ve always been there. There’s a clear and palpable desire to make what wasn’t possible before, a wish to make the macabre feel alive coming being realized, make levels shift and spin in impossible ways, hearing the howls and growls of beasts as you make them fall, it’s uncanny in the best way imaginable. Even as someone who doesn’t really enjoy this OST compared to what previous outings had to offer, it offers that characteristic SNES ambience sounds that I enjoy and many people love, and for good reason.

Castlevania IV feels like the team behind it decided to make what they wished they could have done on their first go, and I mean, it’s meant to be a re-telling of that original adventure, but even beyond that, its otherworldly detail, its focus on ambience, its desire to be even bigger and greater, none of the stuff that IV does could have been done before… at least partially.

I wouldn’t call the game ‘’derivative’’ as much as I’d call I ‘’inconsistent’’, one moment you are presented with a super cool new idea, like the reworked whip and its seemingly endless possible uses, and right after you realize that, aside from the fact you can hook and balance through certain levels which is amazing, this is just more of what was seen in Dracula’s Curse, except it’s not even close to being as fun or inspired. Many of the hazards and level ideas are entirely lifted from that of the last NES entry, and when they aren’t that, either it’s because they are either a minor spin on a preexisting idea, an actually super cool challenge or layout that only gets used once and then forgotten, or a very simplistic and/or dreadful thing to have to repeat over than over, and let me restate, the original trilogy wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of completely fair design, but one thing is to be a meanie with the player, and then there’s the boss rush before Dracula that’s in her which… that’s just evil, man…

The game takes a ton of ideas from the works that preceeded it without really having the same tact or mindful design as something like the Clockwork Tower in Dracula’s Curse had, and even if it has snippets of excellent, creative concepts that make up for pretty fun parts of levels, it doesn’t last long before we are back to ideas already seen or that don’t really work. Even the aforementioned new whip control, which I fucking love, aren’t really that compelling to use simply because, aside of some instances when being on ladders, hitting an enemy that’s on an upper platform or when being swarmed by birds, there aren’t really a ton of instances where using it feels fun or well-thought out. Enemies still behave like they did the last three times, the only exception being the bosses, who are easy to kill at best or obnoxious at worst, so it’s not like they are the best example, to be honest.

It tries to tell a story that was already told by expanding it, but its idea of expansion is grafting more levels onto it that tell a part of the story that wasn’t necessary on the original and that, without the path feature from III, feels tacked on and is only saved because of how some scattered levels like Stage IV are pretty memorable, and that’s the thing, it can be fun, it can be creative, and in some places and moments, it clearly is, but it seems afraid to stay out of the shadow of its older brothers.

Effects may be pretty and the sounds stunning, but IV doesn’t aspire to be anything more than yet another vampire vanquishing adventure, and so its destined to be stuck at the halfway point, one that needs to be compensated with instant deaths and immediate fail-states, ‘cause no matter what, the game has to be difficult, this is Castlevania after all, no matter the cost…

It still isn’t quite what I feared Dracula’s Curse was gonna be, but it isn’t far from it either… moon-walking on stairs in the best thing in any of these games tho!