Jessica and I danced under the lights at the Lombard Graduation Recital, June 21st 2014. Our senior years had finally ended three weeks prior, and the graduation ceremony had at last come to a close. I don't remember why we danced together, but we did. She was leaving for Iowa in August. A terrible Coldplay song was playing. Somehow our hands fell together, and there was a harmony. We melted like two squares of butter on the flat of a pan, and when my eyes next opened our lips were pressed together. It didn't last long. We returned to ourselves and separated. She blushed deeply. "I don't think my boyfriend is going to like that." She said with a smile. We parted ways.

Three days later I was sitting at a Steak & Shake fauxdiner with my friends Marco and Brandon. We were in the midst of some ugly spat, but we were hungry, so we ate. At some point during the meal all in the restaurant grew quiet, and just as I sensed a presence coming up from behind me my head was being slammed into the table, directly onto the small pool of ketchup I was using to finish up my fries. "What the fuck is wrong with you, man!?" It was Jared. "I should kill you for putting moves on my girl." I strained my eyes to the other side of the table where Marco and Brandon had been sitting. It was empty now. I was on my own.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." I squeezed out, the pressure in my head turning to pain. For a moment I felt his grip release, and I lifted my head only for it to be roughly smashed back down, this time into the corner of my meal tray. I yelled in pain, and fell onto my back on the booth. I heard some people gasp and a few goons laughs, but Jared didn't seem to think it was funny. He leaned over me and grabbed my shirt collar, pulling me up towards him, my life in his hands.

"Don't fucking tell me it was her. Why did you mack on my girl?" This was red hate. His spit flecked onto my face.

"I really don't know, I don't remember kissing her. Maybe it was her!" I stammered out the words, growing desperate for relief. He looked at me for a long time, his dark eyes seething. Eventually, he let me go.

"Stay the fuck away from her." He and his bros left the restaurant, while I gagged and bled over what was left of my meal. The waitress told me that I didn't have to pay.

In October of the following year my friends shared with me a news story that Jessica was dead. Beaten by Jared, her body found on some forgotten roadway in Iowa somewhere. For his defense, Jared said she was cheating on him, using his money to go to bars in town and meet boys and have one night stands with them while he was out with his friends. He said he couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't help but feel the smallest wince of blame.

Omori was released on Chirstmas Day, 2020. I bought it that day, and played through it to completion over the following two weeks. My playthrough took me around 33 hours. I have not booted up Omori since, nor have I purchased the later ports of the game that feature additional content.

In the coming-on two years since Omori's release, I have thought about it every single day.

Ignoring any and all gameplay or aesthetic discussion, where Omori leaves its mark is the heart. This game has a heart that beats and bleeds and pumps its feeling from itself into you, and you see yourself in the mirror and you see the things Omori put into you creeping across your face. You see smiles forgotten. You see tears wiped away. You see a hand on your shoulder. Everything will be okay. It's a game that may well have the most potent and excellently constructed narrative of any game ever made. Every single decision made during this game's development was one done to amplify the potency of the way this game makes you feel. It never goes away. If I'm fortunate enough to grow old, I wil still think about Omori every day. It will always be relevant. The things it says don't rust over with age. It will no longer just be my face in the mirror. I will always see her, and countless others.

In 1903, the Wright brothers invented the airplane, a machine that allowed humans to travel through the sky at higher speeds than they could manage on the streets below. It changed everything, revolutionized both travel and commerce, and airplanes today remain possibly the single most popular method of long-form transportation for both people and goods. In 1996, Nintendo released Super Mario 64, a landmark achievement that trumps the Wright's' in every conceivable way. No longer were we doomed to walk this world in two dimensions. Now we could run, jump, slide and dive through the world in full 3D. And yes, we could even fly.

Where the Wright brothers went wrong was in their failure to understand that Mario games are better than actual real life. Super Mario 64 is no exception, a game that even in its modern-day ancientness is still so much fun to play that it makes entire evenings disappear if you allow it to. Mario's controls - again, for his first ever 3D outing - are somehow flawless and fun on some sort of primal level. It's just a joy to make that little guy run around. The camera gets some flak now that we live in an era of fully controllable third person cameras but 64's snappier method more than works for the game, and the contextualization of it via the Lakitu is such a charming addition it's absolutely worth the occasional fumble.

64's worlds are all a delight to explore, some maybe a little more than others, but the objectives in them are so varied and your methods of completing them so freeform that it's a thrill just to load into a world and goof around until bumble your way into getting a power star you may not have even known was there. But it's the hub world that really cements Super Mario 64 as a sheer photon blast of joy. Peach's Castle is burdened by secrets, and wandering the halls searching for hidden treasures and secret passageways, pushed onwards by thr iconic score, is no less alluring and comfortable now than it was 25 years ago. The soundtrack throughout the entire game is brilliant, if a bit lacking for unique tracks. Every song is iconic.

There's no filler in Super Mario 64. No wasted time. You decide what level to play, you get in there, and you have a blast until you're done. It's a game that's been with me all my life, first as a barely cognizant child just basking in wonder at it, and now as a grizzled veteran of Adult Problems who still has an amazing time playing through all 120 stars in the course of one afternoon. Almost 30 years on, Super Mario 64 remains a delight that does not end. A star that does not fade.

Dreck.

Bioshock Infinite is easily the worst game in its franchise, and one of the most repugnant AAA games of the last decade. Elizabeth is a likeable character and Songbird is a cool design that the game ultimately wastes, and I can't deny that the setting and some of the core plot ideas are neat or at least interesting. But interesting ideas aren't enough to save a game so mind numbingly dull, so significant a step back from its predecessors you'd believe it if someone told you this was the first game in the trilogy. Every single aspect of Infinite's gameplay is a watered down bastardization of the prior games. The firearms feel weak, the magic abilities are lame and unfun, the upgrade system is a total bore. The checkpointing system totally fails to actually account for failure, so it's possible to lock yourself into nigh-unwinnable situations in the late game as every botched attempt to overcome an encounter just leaves you with less resources for your next effort. It's awful.

The both-sides, oppressed-as-oppressors plot that takes center stage as the game goes on is absolutely disgusting. Even as someone who barely understood politics in 2013 it left a foul taste in my mouth, one that's only grown more rancid over the ensuing decade of political lunacy. Playing Bioshock Infinite is never fun and increasingly crass. One good jumpscare and two cool characters are not enough to save this from being one of the worst high profile video game releases of all time. Avoid at all costs.

Metroid Dread arrived with understated power almost 20 years after its predecessor. That's a LONG time to wait for a followup. I was a child when I played Metroid Fusion on the Game Boy, dying to writhing creatures and getting lost in a relatively linear science fiction compound. But still I loved it, still I craved more. That craving turned into yearning turned into dejected acceptance that more would never come as I got older and the Metroid franchise got colder, soon stopping even its 3D releases. So when Metroid Dread came out, you know it had a lot to live up to. It was a different development studio. It took combat and exploration cues from a divisive 3DS remake. They added quasi-stealth sequences with instakills. Metroid Dread did not rest on its laurels, it took big risks, it boldly pushed the franchise further towards horror than it had ever gone before, and the benefits of its progress are monumental. Metroid Dread not only marks the successful return of everything that makes Metroid Metroid, but a refinement and evolution of those elements, making Metroid Dread the greatest 2D Metroid game yet.

It's the boss fights that really make Metroid Dread so special. Metroid has always loved the boss fight, but in earlier games these bosses sort of resembled schmup battles, learning shot patterns, evading them, responding with shots of your own. This is all still present in Dread, but the addition of the counter system from Samus Returns and an accompanying cinematic camera angle makes these bosses far more intense and turns their feeling from one of blasting and jumping to one of white knuckled bloodsoaked brawling. The tension is high, encounters are incredibly dynamic, and the thrill of a successful riposte is oh-so-satisfying. Bosses feel more akin to Hollow Knight than they do previous Metroid games, with the speed and ferocity of encounters tuned up so much higher than in the past. It's an extremely welcome change, and is the primary element that pushes Metroid Dread into being the best in its class.

The EMMI encounters make for a welcome addition as well. As Metroid games go on, you'll often be backtracking to old areas and going through rooms you've gone through dozens of times before, rooms you've mapped out to a science in your mind. Dread is no different, but what is different is the inclusion of these EMMI zones. When returning to one of these, before taking out the designated EMMI, you're forced to play smart and careful, but not patient. You have to hurry, weaving between maze-like corridors and avoiding mines and other obstacles while doing everything you can to avoid your pursuer, who if not for an extremely precise counter threatens to send you back to your last save if they so much as touch your toes. Some people have taken issue with these, saying they're either too boring and easy or too difficult and obnoxious. Both of these kinds of people have skill issues. The EMMI sections are among the game's most rewarding, and keep even repeat visits to the areas fresh, exciting, and dreadful.

Lastly, the world itself. Dread's in-game map is thrilling to explore, riddled with secrets and just an absolute joy to traverse. Samus moves better than any character in a 2D action game ever, bar none, and the areas you explore feel so good to fly through with those perfect controls. From sci-fi horror laboratories to underwater bases to overgrown ruins, none of these areas are particularly original in concept, but their layout and the game's buttery controls make them a blast to explore, and far more memorable than they appear to be on the surface.

Metroid Dread is an undeniable triumph. It carries forward everything that made Metroid a special franchise in the annals of gaming history and reinforces those foundations with plentiful new tricks and dazzling additions. It's a miracle that this game exists, and it's a second, even more compelling miracle that it's as good as it is. We are all so lucky to have it.

I've always liked the Xenoblade series, but I've never loved it. I've played every other game in the series, all of them for well over 40 hours, but I always shelve them. Too many other games to play, exploration and combat are too passive, the story isn't engaging enough... a laundry list of reasons why those prior games didn't stick to me. But this one did. Xenoblade Chronicles 3 made a fool out of me, with a story so excellently told filled with so many characters that endeared themselves so strongly to my heart I felt shame for daring to boot up other video games even weeks after my journey with them came to an end. This is a truly special game, the kind we see maybe three times per console generation if we're truly lucky. I don't remember most games I've played over the last two years alone well enough to write even a handful of sentences on them, but I will remember Xenoblade Chronicles 3 until the day I die.

Let's start with gameplay. Like the previous games, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 plays fairly passively. You run through enormous areas collecting tiny trinkets and rare doodahs until you reach your next quest objective, be that an enemy to fight, an item to grab, or an invisible line in the sand. When combat starts, you auto attack with your selected character and use your skills as you see fit, based on their cooldown status and the class you're rocking and your positioning on the battlefield. Not the most thrilling combat, but the character customization in this game really lets you experiment with the combat and mix and match an insane amount of ideas together. Combat and exploration in this game works better for me than in the previous games because you are always trying out new things, there's always a new skill you can learn or new ways to mesh your old skills with one another. There are plenty of additional herbs and spices to add to combat - the Ourobouros forms of all your main characters, the Ascension quests and Hero system, Chain Attacks - so even when you're nearing the end of a journey that'll take a thorough player well over 100 hours, you aren't getting too bored during combat. Plus you can just run away from most dudes so if you do get bored you can just stick to bosses.

It's the story where Xenoblade Chronicles 3 makes its real impact, however. A story so grand in scope and rich in detail there's plenty to think about long after the game ends. I won't be getting into any specifics but rest assured, alongside its plentiful hype moments and charming character writing, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 also became the only video game I have ever played to reduce me completely and utterly into a sniveling weeping child, up two hours past my bed time on a work night because I have to keep playing because trying to sleep without righting the wrongs that were unfolding on my television screen would be a Sisyphian undertaking. The game starts brilliantly, remains engaging and excellent, and ends perfectly. No notes.

Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is as good as JRPGs can possibly get. This is what the genre was invented for. If you like sci fi worlds, or epic quests, or even if you just like Cool Swords, Xenoblade Chronicles 3 is not only the best game you can play this year but it may just be the best game you can play on your Nintendo Switch. Game of the year.

Gnosia is the best game about a guy with a cat living inside of his neck ever made.

A Visual Novel lives and dies on its story and characters, its art and music, and its VIBES. And in all these ways, Gnosia sings the sweetest song you'll ever hear. A social deduction game where everyone is certifiable and your strategies are ever changing, because so are the rules.

What makes Gnosia realltly stand out among its contemporaries is how it handles progression. Not only do you level up your stats as you play, allowing you to build out your character like an RPG, but the world of Gnosia and the lunatics trapped therein are rife with mysteries and riddled with secrets. As you learn more and more about the gameplay systems and how to manipulate the other characters onboard the ship, you become more able to use that knowledge to advance your understanding of the backstories of the characters and world of Gnosia, and that knowledge will further enable you to manipulate the characters in search of the results you're looking for with every round you play. Gnosia's "final boss" is a spectacular culmination of these mechanics, forcing you to execute every skill you've learned over your 20 or so hours with the game with peak precision against a terrifying threat. It's one of the most memorable boss fights I've played in a game this decade, and Gnosia is a visual novel. It's awesome.

Gnosia excels in its presentation as well. The art is excellent and unique and oh man, the music is blissful. Tense, exciting, nerve-wracking, and always enhancing the mood of every scene. The only fault to be found within Gnosia is that locating the game's final secrets may become a bore, but even that feels thematically and mechanically appeopriate. It's a very unique game well worth seeing through to its poignant and memorable conclusion. Cannot recommend it enough.

As a Bayonetta fan since day one, I had sky high expectations for Bayonetta 3. The third in a trilogy of increasingly unlikely-to-exist games, six years of development, and coming over three years after Platinum released their last major single player game. Bayonetta 3 would have to be spectacular to meet my expectations after all that time, but not only did it meet them, somehow it managed to surpass them.

After Bayonetta 2 opted to refine and focus up what Bayonetta 1 already excelled at, to middling results, Bayonetta 3 is an explosive gambit that takes everything Platinum has ever done and launches them full force at the player with shocking fury. Genre switchups are constant (if brief) and the core gameplay itself has seen radical changes with the addition of the Demon Slave and Demon Masquerade concepts. From a distance these changes may seem worrying or clunky, but when playing it all flows so smoothly and feels incredibly satisfying to utilize as a part of your ever expanding tool kit. Not only does Bayonetta 3 have the most overall weapon options in the series, these options are more varied and more fun to use than ever. You could play for 100 hours and not hit the ceiling of what this combat system can do with Bayonetta alone. And that's not even getting into Viola, whose combat flow is wildly different from Bayonetta's and requires a real gear shift to lock into.

Bayonetta 3 never rests, setpiece after setpiece blow your doors down and threaten to drag you out onto the street and mug you in front of your neighbors and God while you try desperately to keep your cool, clenching the controller to aim for those good scores. The game is effortlessly engaging and fun, with the variety of its combat and the expansiveness of its adventurous level design always keeping you busy with something or another, and that something always changing into something equally fun.

Bayonetta 3's only falter is in minor QOL concerns, things like replays not allowing restarts of verses and a few enemies not giving good enough audio cues when they fire their bite-sized arrows at you from the other side of the planet. These are nagging concerns, concerns that become annoyances when you're going for pure platinum rankings and trying to master the higher difficulties. But those are only issues for the crazy people like me who actually want to attempt to do those things. For the sane gamer who just wants to experience a thrilling action game, I posit that you can do no better on the Nintendo Switch than Bayonetta 3.

Everything that Signalis takes from classic survival horror, it excels at. The atmosphere is excellent, the inventory system is punishing, and the levels are perfectly designed to incentivize thoughtful enemy dispatching and routing. The visuals are also fantastic, taking an anime-ified PS1 polygonal approach that looks great from every angle, a striking aesthetic that never really escapes the shell of the games and anime it's apeing (particularly Neon Genesis Evangelion) but manages to land with confident aplomb all the same.

Where Signalis falters is in its clarity. I love a weird trip, but I have to feel confident that the work is doing something in order to give myself up to it. Signalis does have a story, and it's a pretty cool one, but in my nearly 8 hours spent with the game I never once understood the any part of it. Which, in itself, is fine. But in the endgame, when the tension is ratcheting up and the final boss reveals itself for the climactic battle, no amount of visual effects trickery or raucous music can make the battle feel any less weightless. The stakes are nonexistent, because there is nothing either in the plot or in the themes that feels worth fighting for. You beat the boss because the game will end afterward.

It's a great ride, and the developers nailed everything they were going for, but I came away from Signalis thinking the exact same things I thought going in: that it was a cool looking PS1 survival horror sendup. Everything else about the game will fade and distort, just like the world of Signalis itself.