I’ve noticed a pattern since I started writing these top 10 video game lists of mine. Usually, I either say that it was an incredible year or it was just okay. Sometimes there’s a wrench that throws everything out of wack. I moved. I didn’t get around to much. There was a global pandemic and I felt inclined to be grateful for every game I played. I like the lists themselves, but rarely do I look back and say “This year was good, but it wasn’t quite great” or “This year was flaming dog shit.” It was either a classic year, or it was just “eh” but with a few highlights. I’ve never just said a year was pretty good.

2024? It was pretty good!

To put it in a shitty way, it was, for me, a year of bronze and silver medals and very few golds. A lot of games I was looking forward to came up short. I couldn’t reach the same level of enthusiasm for some of the games that took 2024 by storm. (That’s the main reason Balatro and Prince of Persia: The Lost Crown aren’t on this list. Both are fantastic, but I didn’t go feral for either like a lot of people did. I get it though!) I seem to be getting nitpickier by the year and even found myself being critical of the stuff that really had an impact on me. All of this is to say that a lot of the games on this list could come with qualifiers.

Or at least that’s the glass half-empty way of looking at it, and I am a man of therapy and many many milligrams of antidepressants. Sure, there were a lot of good games and very few great ones, but is that a bad thing? Of course not, and on top of that, what the year lacked in gold medals it more than made up for in innovation, experimentation, and, to put it simply, people doing really cool shit.

The majority of the games on this list offered experiences I’ve never had before, so maybe the year isn’t the problem, but the way I chose to measure it at first. And you know what? Now that I’m looking at it from a different angle, 2024 was a pretty fuckin’ rad year for gaming. Let’s list.

Runner-Up: UFO 50

Of the fifty games in UFO 50, I enjoyed twenty-four of them enough that I would consider going back and playing more. The only reason that this “game”, or whatever you want to call it, isn’t on this list proper is that I never actually found the time to go back and play more.

Rather than going on much longer, I’ll list the ones that stuck out to me, although I made the mistake of not writing down descriptions of the games so I don’t remember which one is which. However, it wasn’t really the quality of the games that made this experiment stand out. For me, it was the sense of expression.

When Mario Maker came out, I was genuinely touched watching people take all these elements we all know like the back of our hands to make something completely new and different. Some made ultra hard nightmare bullshit, some made these fascinating conceptual levels, and some made something in between or something classic. But no matter what, the personalities behind the levels always shined through.

I feel the same way about UFO 50.

I didn’t like every game, but I was never going to, and I was never supposed to. The UFO 50 is, after all, a fictional console, and it’s ridiculous to think that you’re going to like every game that’s ever been released on a Playstation or an Xbox. But even when a game didn’t click with me, I still saw a portal into the minds of the people who made it. What kinds of games spoke to them, what they remember from the era of gaming UFO 50 is supposed to invoke, and what those games meant to them.

It was, above all else, a reminder that games are made by human beings, and in an age where every company is trying their damnedest to get you to forget that fact as they treat their workforce like trash and steer every game to the middle of the road, I find that incredibly meaningful.

Anyway, these are the games I liked:

Bug Hunter
Paint Chase
Mortol
Attactics
Kick Club
Bushido Ball
Camouflage
Warptank
Rail Heist
Vainger
Mortol II
Fist Hell
Overbold
Hyper Contender
Valbrace
Rakshasa
Grimstone
Lords of Diskonia
Night Manor
Pilot Quest
Mini & Max
Combatants
Seaside Drive

10. Echo Point Nova

There’s this perpetual battle in the thunderdome of video games discorse between narrative vs. gameplay. There are those who want a deeper emotional connection with a game via its human elements and emotions other than “fun”, and there are those who find that connection through their relationship with mechanics and motion. More often than not, this ends with both sides calling each other slurs, doxxing one another, and all that good old-fashioned gamer behavior we all know and love.

I’ve always found this argument stupid for many reasons, but one of the major ones is that it implies that the two are mutually exclusive from one another. The way I see it, the narrative and writing aspects make me give a shit about what I’m doing, and what I’m doing forges a stronger connection with the narrative. Wolfenstein: The New Order gives you all the motivation you need to blow a nazi’s head off, and the fact that the game makes it feel good to do so makes me want to invest more of my emotions. On a similar note, it’s fun to make Mario jump on top of goombas, but it would mean less if I was just making the man jump on the little monsters. Or it can be something more emergent. This guy did X to me in an online game, so I did Y back and had this unique experience. In an ideal world, narrative and gameplay inform one another, and the details matter.

And then there are cases like Echo Point Nova. Its story isn’t particularly engaging and you’ve seen everything it does on a mechanical level in many games in the past. Yet, the fusion of the two creates something that feels genuinely new.

Echo Point Nova takes place on a mysterious planet. There’s something off about its gravity and its architecture. There aren’t so many flat continents or land masses, but hundreds of thousands of floating islands with varying climates. The desert islands and the snowy mountains islands are close, as are the forest islands and the plains islands and everything in between. It’s alien and unfamiliar, but oddly idyllic and frequently beautiful. The kind of scenery you’d happily build a little house on somewhere.

There’s a group of bad guys trying to strip the planet of its resources and plant a bunch of ugly machines on it and, in the process, destroy all the beauty and vibes. So you run around from island to island with a hoverboard and a grappling hook and kill them all while you blow up all their shit.

I had enough motivation to want to protect this world. Hell, I even used the world itself to protect it, assuming the many guys I rammed off the mountains or knocked into lava pits or blew off the sides into the abyss below didn’t survive. That it felt so amazing to do only made me feel all the more righteous. They look at this planet and see a means to personal gain. I look at it, I see what’s already there, and the only way I want to use it is to help me send all the bad guys into oblivion.

It’s easy to say that this game’s great solely because of its gameplay and mechanics, but I don’t think that’s true. Really, it’s how said gameplay meshes together with this environment and the people trying to ruin it that creates a certain vibe. A zen kind of badass-ery. A balancing of the scales fueled by future X-Games and big ass guns. Or it’s just a game where you shoot a bunch of dudes while you ride around on a hoverboard. You do you, but personally, the former experience sounds like a better use of my time.

9. Animal Well

Most naming conventions in gaming are terrible.

“There was a game called Rogue, and that invented this formula, so why not call games that use this formula Roguelikes?” “But what if there’s a slight alteration to the formula?” “THEN IT’S NO LONGER PURE! Call it a Roguelite.” Or another example: “Hey, this game is all like story and walking around and it doesn’t have any guns in it. Let’s call it a Walking Simulator kek. Isn’t that funny?” “Yeah that’s fucking hilarious, bro. Let’s go harass a woman on Reddit.” “Fuck yeah, bro.”

But hey, just because I pointed out the problem doesn't mean I have to fix it, and we need a name for games like Animal Well. As I write this, I’m recovering from being sick, it’s the holidays, and I’m just tired, and the best I got is Fezlike. I’m a massive hypocrite.

Two games come to mind in recent years that fit into this genre, specifically Tunic and now Animal Well. Though Fez, Tunic, and Animal Well are quite different from one another, the general idea is that these are games with a heavy emphasis on mysterious worlds you learn about not through exposition or characters, but through exploration and experimentation. Fez explains the general plot and how the titular fez works, but as soon as you leave your village, the game doesn’t directly tell you anything. Tunic takes a slightly different route in that it directly tells you its story via the manual pages, but you have to explore and advance to find them, and the game doesn’t tell you how to do so. Animal Well is the most withholding of all in that it doesn’t tell you anything ever unless you’re paying close attention, and even then, much is open to interpretation.

All that said, these three games differ in how they present the fact that there are secrets and mysteries in the first place. It’s possible to go through all of Fez without learning the secret language or finding the anti-cubes or even knowing that there’s something going on other than exploring the world with your dimension-bending hat and finding the gold cubes. Tunic is very up-front about the fact that there are deeper elements for you to find. This means that it doesn’t have that “a-ha” moment where you discover the game beneath the game, but it’s also going for something different.

Animal Well tells you so little that the whole game is essentially a giant mystery in and of itself. You learn by doing. You find out the controls by clicking random buttons and seeing what happens. There might be a deeper level beyond the surface exploration and puzzle solving, but where does the surface level even begin or end?

This made-up genre of mine is ultimately about mystery and hiding things from the player to find on their own. Yet, Animal Well is the first of these games to feel truly alien. Booting up Animal Well feels like going through the looking glass. You fall deeper and deeper into its hold, and the further you go, the more the real world melts away all around you. You poke at the game and sometimes it pokes back, but sometimes it’ll do nothing and sometimes it’ll respond with something completely nuts. There’s no shortage of how much of this game you can discover by accident or by doing random shit. The latter sounds like a criticism, but I don’t mean it that way. “Can I jump on the frisbee?” I asked myself. And fuck yeah you can.

There are games that play like Animal Well. You can see some of its influences from both a gameplay and an aesthetic standpoint. However, I can’t think of anything that feels like Animal Well, and I hope I eat my words when I say that I think it will stay that way for a while.

8. Indiana Jones and the Great Circle

How far Machine Games went out of their way to place nazis in front of pits, cliffsides, elevator shafts, and other tall drops just so you can use the shove button, a button I rarely used in the Vatican section, to push them off and watch them die horribly makes this game worthy of every top ten list across the internet.

That the rest of the game is as satisfying, particularly when it comes to taking out nazis and fascists, is just the cherry on top. Also, a potential hot take: Emmerich Voss is the best Indiana Jones villain across all Indiana Jones media.

7. Tactical Breach Wizards

Speaking of potentially unpopular opinions, XCOM: Enemy Unknown never fully clicked with me.

Never in a million years would I call XCOM “bad”, nor do I have a single negative thought about it. In fact, one could even argue that I bounced off it because it’s too effective at what it sets out to do. Between the high-stakes dice rolls, the constant thinking on your feet, the base management, and the way everything weaves together to make you feel like the whole world is counting on you, I felt constantly overwhelmed, and I would leave every battle feeling mentally and somewhat physically drained.

Of course, you could just save scum. But that’s a whole to-do. You gotta quit the game, you gotta reboot it, you gotta navigate to the menu and wait for the game to load, and as XCOM was particularly bug-riddled, you had to hope it didn’t crash. (I certainly didn’t help matters by playing the game on an old Macbook Pro.) Save scumming XCOM was just as exhausting to me as playing it.

Tactical Breach Wizards knows you’re going to save scum, so it gives you a rewind mechanic you can use to constantly experiment and redo your moves.

It’s a game that clearly holds XCOM near and dear to its heart. Yet, it also feels like a version of XCOM that understands why people like me might find it a bit too much, as on top of the rewind mechanic, it also has the Into the Breach interface that tells you what everyone’s going to do next so you can prepare accordingly. Every character has plus and minuses, but I never found myself thinking, “Goddamn it, now I have to play as X guy.” It’s a game not without challenge, but not only is every challenge surmountable, it’s a joy to figure out how. It’s a dumbing down of the XCOM formula that makes you feel like a genius when you’re in sync with it.

It’s also a version of XCOM that’s much lighter on its feet. There is a lore and a story being told. The lore’s fascinating and the writing’s fantastic, but it doesn’t take itself too seriously. This is a somewhat blasphemous comparison, but it’s the quippy Marvel shit done right. It finds the balance between recognizing the inherent comedy in presenting traditional fantasy staples like magic and wizards as modern military-core, but it also takes its characters and what motivates them seriously. It makes its jokes, but they don’t come at the expense of itself.

A lighthearted turn-based tactics game not made by Nintendo. Who knew!?

6. Shadows of Doubt

It feels like every few years or so, there’s a leap forward in games that make you feel like you’re a detective. And not in the sense of running around and shooting people and, oh, hey, you happen to be a detective. I mean games where you’re putting clues together and gathering evidence in order to solve a crime.

There were point-and-click games where you’re a detective and FMV detective games. The tech got better and we started getting stuff like L.A. Noire, which at the time was the furthest a game has ever gone as far as just making a video game about detective work. Then people started getting more abstract. Return of the Obra Dinn has you play as a detective capable of seeing brief flashes of the past, and you have to put together who everybody on a ship of dead bodies is and how they died. The Case of the Golden Idol gives you a tableau of a murder or a death, you find all the clues you can by clicking, and then you solve the crime by filling out a word bank. (Sidenote: Sadly, I did not get to The Rise of the Golden Idol. I simply ran out of time.) Both did a better job of making you feel like a detective, but they didn’t get all the way there.

Now we have Shadows of Doubt, which is easily the furthest a game has ever gone in making you feel like you’re an actual ass detective.

The game gives you a practice case with objectives to teach you the mechanics. You learn how to take fingerprints, hack security systems and pick locks (a thing you need to do because the game takes place in an alternate history where policing has become privatized and you’re not actually a cop anymore), gather evidence, and so on. Then the game throws you in the deep end. Murders are procedurally generated, and you’re given no objectives or instructions on how to solve them other than, “Go solve this murder.” You have nothing but your tools and your wits. Good luck.

When it comes to solving the murders, there is a way to more or less break the game and recognize the pattern. I won’t spoil what that method is because if you pick this game up, you’ll want to keep the illusion going for as long as possible. The one thing I will say is that I can live with it because the game breaking methodology involves resources that would more or less be available to an actual police department detective. But for some, that may break their immersion. Luckily, however, there are other ways to earn your living as a detective. You can take side jobs where you catch cheating spouses or break into corporate offices and other degrading lowlife detective jobs.

On top of that, the end goal of this game is to retire to The Fields, one of the last refuges on the planet that hasn’t been touched by climate change. You earn your spot in The Fields by gathering enough money and social credit, which is a literal commodity in this world, and solving murders gets you both. Thus, it becomes a noir detective simulator in every sense of the word. You’re not just solving murders and digging around trash, but you’re also scraping by and living in the muck with everybody else. You’re on the bottom rung of the social ladder, and the only way to climb up is to get your hands dirty. You’re going to solve crimes the old-fashioned way, but you’re also going to potentially do a lot of dirty shit to get the information you need.

The more you play, the more the mechanisms of how it works begin to show, and it’s not the most technically impressive or even technically stable game you’re going to play. But in the year 2024, this is as close to a detective as you’re going to get in a video game, and it’s glorious.

And you get to make a super complicated evidence board! With red lines and everything!

5. Indika

Indika has a points and upgrades system.

You collect points by exploring the environments and finding hidden objects or lighting the occasional prayer candle that resides in a house or by a grave. Indika herself is a nun, and much of the game revolves around her relationship with the Catholic church and really religion as a whole, thus the artifacts all tie back to her faith. Artwork of saints and events in the Bible or writings of scripture. (I don’t remember if said saints and Biblical events were real ones, but it doesn’t matter either way.) You find these items, you get your points, and you use them in the upgrade tree. The upgrades you get also revolve around points. Every time you reach a new level, you can choose between getting a bunch more points all at once or increasing the likelihood that you’ll get bonus points whenever you score them organically.

The game tells you that these points don’t matter. While most of Indika is rendered in a realistic style courtesy of UE4, the upgrade tree and points are presented to you in the same pixel style used to show the flashbacks of Indika’s childhood. An observant player might make the connection between the shared aesthetic of the point system and Indika’s long dead days of childhood innocence, but other people can just see that the style’s out of place and doesn’t belong. There’s also the small matter of the game literally telling you that the points don’t matter during loading screens.

Despite all the signs, however, I collected as many points as I could. Indika literally hears the devil speaking to her in her head, and since the game invoked a figure known for deceit and dishonesty, I thought there was a chance that the game was lying to me. Moreover, they wouldn’t bother putting all the items you can interact with in the environment and writing descriptions of each one just for them to not matter. Right?

Indika’s conflicted about her faith. At a young age, she was sent to the most miserable looking convent in a freezing cold Russian hell. The other nuns hate her and treat her with contempt and cruelty. As previously said, the devil is in her head constantly challenging her resolve in her beliefs, and it certainly doesn’t help that a lot of his points are valid. When she leaves the convent, all she sees in the world around her is suffering. Misery. Death. Collapse. The horrible stories she hears about prison from Ilya, an escapee she meets along the way who becomes her travel companion. Not a single note of salvation.

Despite all the signs, however, Indika still believes. She believes in the religion that’s shaped her whole existence, she believes that living by the rules of god will lead to her place in heaven, and on a more literal level, she believes in the Kudets, a supposedly holy relic that can cure all ailments both physical and spiritual. This is the object she spends most of the game pursuing, hoping to rid herself of the devil’s presence and gain acceptance back into the convent. She thinks it will work. It’s a relic housed in a cathedral. That means it’s backed by the church, so it has to work. Right?

This game is not subtle.

Indika is one of the most effective interrogations of religion and its impact on communities that I’ve encountered in quite some time. It’s also a game that makes the most joyously bonkers creative decisions at every opportunity and its sense of voice is so well articulated that even if you don’t like the game, you’ll still feel like you know the people who made it. I’ve never played anything like it.

4. Thank Goodness You’re Here!

Most of what I have to say about this game and what it meant to me this year also applies to my number one pick, so I’ll get into it there.

That said, I will say this here though: If I’m in a grumpy enough mood, or if I’m disliking the game I’m playing or the characters I’m interacting with enough, I grow genuinely resentful of people constantly making me do favors for them or sending me on missions or giving me chores to do or this, that, and a third.

It’s absurd, right? And less often than you think, your taskmasters rarely thank you for your work and your effort. (Insert “THAT’S WHAT THE MONEY’S FOR” meme). And it has deeper ramifications on the narrative end as well because the most effective stories contain characters who act on the decisions they make themselves, not tasks somebody else made for them. The only exceptions to the rule that I can think of are stories that are trying to make a point about the character’s powerlessness. When characters are cogs in a machine and stuff like that. But rarely is that the case in video games, and even in those cases, you usually wind up going off the reservation at some point.

Thank Goodness You’re Here! is a game that’s about cracking under the pressure of everyone’s increasingly bizarre demands. It was always going to be on this list.

Also one more thing. After the game’s closing credits, there’s a website it tells you to visit. I visited said site, and it gave me instructions on what to do to receive a little reward. Mainly, I had to put a note in a pre-paid envelope and send it to the publisher’s office. Thank Goodness You’re Here! is one of the more joyous experiences you can have with video games, and I was feeling agreeable after I finished it. So I said “fuck it” and mailed my envelope. A few weeks later, they sent me back a patch and a bag of tea. You gotta love it!

3. Mouthwashing

Mouthwashing is my narrative pick of the year, and it’s also one of those games I feel you should go into knowing as little as possible. I could talk about this game for centuries if I want to, and believe me I do. But for the sake of potentially keeping your experience intact, I’ll restrain myself. I’ll just list a few vague thoughts.

Mouthwashing contains what I believe to be the worst human being that’s ever been conceived of for a video game. And that’s a pretty high bar!
Mouthwashing was also one of the last games I played this year. I try to shove in a few short ones before the end of the year to get as much in as possible. Most of the time, it’s usually not worth the effort. However, in the case of this game, I’ll probably look back in a few years and regret not having it up one or two slots.
There was a lot of nostalgia for PS1 era of horror games, and really just old horror games in general in 2024. There was Fear the Spotlight, Crow Country, Home Safety Hotline, and a few more, including Mouthwashing. I didn’t have the pleasure of playing any of these games other than Mouthwashing, but even if I had, I don’t know how good it would’ve done me given that I never played any of the big horror games of that era anyway. I’m sorry, I thought they looked too scary!
Arguably the best use of non-linear storytelling in video games? Need to look into that one.
I’m sure you’ve heard plenty of praise about the story and the dialogue in this game, and let me assure you that the hype is real.

2. Satisfactory

Satisfactory satisfied (snicker snicker) two of the bare minimal requirements that need filling in order for me to think of any year’s video game output as anything above “okay”. The first is Game That Is Fun To Play With Friends.

Two of my friends and I landed on the planet with our gear, and it became clear pretty quickly that our goal was to make the most horrible dystopian base imaginable. One of them built a series of platforms that stretch out over an idyllic cliffside for the sole purpose of building a series of biofuel generators. Another was the one who was typically responsible for building the longer conveyor belts. The ones that stretch past differing ecosystems and biomes. Sometimes he would follow the somewhat premade natural path that led to the base, but plenty of other times he would go out of his way to build something that cut through the precious nature just for the hell of it.

I had my moments as well. Early on, I noticed a weird purple light on top of a bizarre cylindrical mountain in the distance. I built myself a series of wired poles to zipline up, and after much trial and error, I found the source of the light. A vein of S.A.M. (Strange Alien Metal), the resource the progenitor alien race that used to inhabit the planet used for technology that bent physical reality. When you get close to it, you can hear the voices of those who came before, as if the vein stored their collective consciousness and wisdom. I built a huge drill on top of it and mined it for resources that allowed me to carry more shit. I also built a bunch of aesthetically juxtaposed platforms to build more machines. More and more machines.

I built a weapons and explosives manufacturing zone near an area with multiple veins of sulfur, my friends built infrastructure for oil drilling and fuel generation that were truly monstrous in nature, and we all laughed our asses off every time we did something especially heinous to the planet. We’re still playing, and our last big accomplishment was the train system that runs from Matt Gaetz’ Red Bussy Station (it should be Matt Gaetz’s, but whatever) to Seb Gorka’s Bussy Station. Doing all this was some of the most meaningful video game playing time I’ve had this year.

The second fulfillment happened when I started my side solo run of Satisfactory. Mainly, it was the revelation that Satisfactory was my podcast game of the year.

As of writing this, I’ve put 133 hours into Satisfactory, and a large chunk of that happened while I was listening to podcasts, music, or video essays. This is how I like to unwind at the end of the night, and while the mere concept of podcast games is shitty to the people who made those games in the first place, I find my time with them increasingly pleasant and necessary. I would even go so far as to say that I value a good podcast game almost as much, if not exactly as much, as I would something I’d play normally. And as far as podcast games go, this is among the best ones ever made.

Satisfactory doesn’t take the number one spot. But when I look back at 2024, or at least 2024 in gaming, it’ll probably be the game I’ll think about first.

1. Astro Bot

You may have noticed that this list is a bit tonally all over the place.

We have Thank Goodness You’re Here! and now Astro Bot, two of the most joyous experiences video games have to offer, we have Indika and Mouthwashing, which are the two feel-bad games of the year, and in these last five entries, we’ve been alternating between the two. Down, up, down, up.

We’re ending on up.

In a lot of ways, that also reflects my 2024. The highs were unbelievably high. I went and saw live music again for the first time since quarantine, and I saw some of my favorite acts of all time. The Roots and P-Funk and Nile Rodgers and Black Sheep and so much more. A script I wrote also made it into the Austin Film Festival, which is the most tangible progress I’ve had in my film career so far. I went to Vancouver for the first time, I bought my first gaming rig, I met my best friend’s first child. It was a great year for me, except for the parts where it wasn’t.

I doubt you need me to remind you of what I’m talking about. Just go to a news site.

I could write this year off as a loss. I would be perfectly justified to do so, given everything that’s happened. But the thing is that I’m trying to move past the kind of negative thinking that’s been hindering every facet of my life up to this point. I can remember the bad, but I can also remember the good. The moments of joy and laughter and not the nights spent in bed staring into oblivion. Therapy’s been great, the meds work, and for the first time in my life, I felt the wind at my back. I can’t let that feeling go. I won’t.

I choose to move forward. I’m choosing joy, and few things in 2024 were as joyous as Astro Bot. And also Thank Goodness You’re Here!, but more so Astro Bot.

If you want to be cynical, you could get on it for basically being a giant Playstation ad. After all, you’re literally rebuilding a giant PS5 with the help of many a Sony owned IP in bot form. That should’ve bothered me too, but it didn’t. I don’t know what to tell you. I also have much profanity to hurl at Crumble Rumble 3, a level I thought was genuinely more difficult than The Great Master Challenge. But I’m choosing not to, as it’s so washed away by everything else the game does.

Almost all the mechanics made me happy. The level designs made me happy. The music made me happy. The masterfully executed haptic feedback for the controller made me happy. The silly little things the robots do when you hit them made me happy. Unlocking the PaRappa the Rapper costume and never taking it off from the moment I put it on made me happy. The clear effort, craft, and love that pours from every inch of this game made me happy.

Astro Bot was the game I needed the most in 2024. Even if I didn’t need what Astro Bot is selling, it would still probably take the number one spot on merit alone. But I doubt I’m ever going to live in a reality where I won’t need a hot spring of glee and charm. So in this reality, in this time, I choose Astro Bot.

Honorable Mentions

Anger Foot
Balatro
Botany Manor
Children of the Sun
Conan Throwbrien
Crime Scene Cleaner
DoronkoWanko
Été
Europa
Helldivers 2
The Legend of Zelda: Echoes of Wisdom
- Almost made it.
Little Kitty, Big City
Monument Valley 3
Neva
The Plucky Squire
Prince of Persia: Lost Crown
Short Trip
Star Wars Outlaw
Valley Peaks

Will Play Some Day

1000xRESIST
- I know. I know!!!
Arco
Arctic Eggs
Caravan SandWich
Closer the Distance
COD: Black Ops 6
- The new one sounds quite silly and improved in a way that tickled me.
Crow Country
Hauntii
Home Safety Hotline
Lorelei and the Laser Eyes
- I started this and quickly recognized that this is a game that can consume me if I let it. I said I’d go back to it when I felt like being consumed by it, and then I never did. Entirely my fault because this will 1000% be my shit.
Minishoot Adventures
The Night is Grey
Phoenix Springs
The Rise of the Golden Idol
Tiny Terry’s Turbo Trip
To the Moon: Beach Episode
Ultros
Wild Bastards
There’s assuredly more!