I ended 2025 on a jaunty note, as far as video games go, at least. The Plucky Squire was added to my Christmas list on a whim and was purchased for me by my lovely wife, and over a few jaunty handheld gaming sessions undertaken in the time void known to some as the “Chrimbo limbo”, I saw the campaign to its jaunty conclusion.
If you haven’t heard of The Plucky Squire, it’s an indie game originally released in 2024 and developed by British studio, All Possible Futures, and concerns the titular squire being kicked out of the storybook he’s the main character in and attempting to save the day by exploring its pages and the outside world.
Many of the puzzles involve swapping words out from the book to have an effect on the environment. It’s a really neat idea that has loads of potential, but I don’t feel like it was explored to that potential.
The game is very “meta” in this way (in fact, the magic that the evil sorcerer, Humgrump, is using to cause trouble is referred to as “metamagic”), as the characters become aware very early on that they are part of a book, and many of the puzzles require players to think outside the box (or outside the book) to come up with creative solutions. Not that any of the puzzles were that hard. I never found myself stopping and scratching my chin thoughtfully for more than a few seconds, and I found all of the “glitchbird” collectibles in one play through.
The game will often stop to offer up some dialogue hinting at what the titular squire (who’s name is Jot, by the way) has to do to proceed, and there were times when I could’ve done without this, and would have rather the game let me figure things out for myself and hold back on stemming the flow. There’s also a recurring character that will give you more specific tips to progress, but you can ignore this fellow if you wish. He does have some fun dialogue, though, so sometimes I felt like I might’ve been missing out on an amusing quip or clever reference. You can’t have it all, I guess.
Sometimes Jot’s allies will fight alongside him, but sometimes they just follow passively.
The writing of The Plucky Squire is very pleasing on the whole. Generally, it’s presented as a kid’s storybook, but the writers definitely had some fun with the dialogue especially. The characters are all fairytale standards with some kind of unique twist, like a wizard who’s into EDM or a troll who’s a heavy metal drummer. The premise, writing, and dialogue combined to provide some legitimately fun and frivolous moments, and I actually chortled aloud a few times.
What about the gameplay, though? Well, I can best describe it as “Zelda-like”, in lots of different ways. When you’re exploring the book, The Plucky Squire feels like a SNES-style, top-down Zelda, and when you’re outside the book in the kid’s room, it’s reminiscent of the Link’s Awakening remake. Even Phantom Hourglass and Spirit Tracks feel represented with some of the creative puzzle solutions. There are also a few moments throughout The Plucky Squire where the gameplay will change drastically for a boss encounter. I won’t spoil too much, but if you’re a fan of rhythm games, side-scrolling shooters, and Punch Out!!, you’re in for a treat.
I now realise that I didn’t take any screenshots of 3D Jot in the real world. Oh well, I’m not going back in to get one, sorry. Here’s a screenshot of him on a mug instead.
Early on, The Plucky Squire felt like it was going to be a quirky but somewhat average experience that I’d play through and forget about, but by the end the gameplay changes, the charm, and the writing elevated it beyond this. I also found the segments where Jot was exploring outside the book, snooping around a kid’s desk and navigating paint pots, rulers, and birthday cards, to be extremely cosy. It almost took me back to my Micro Machines: Turbo Tournament 96 days. Are there any more games where you play as a tiny guy in a full size world? I’d like to explore this idea further. Maybe I need to track down a copy of Chibi-Robo!.
Kena: Bridge of Spirits is a visually resplendent action adventure game with a Dreamworks-style aesthetic and a melancholy atmosphere set in and around a village haunted by regret-filled spirits. It was developed and published by Ember Lab, and was the studio’s first (and at the time of writing, only) game, and was originally released back in 2021. Players take on the role of Kena, a spirit guide tasked with going to a beautiful but seemingly deserted mountainside community and putting its various spirits to rest, and cleaning up some nasty corruption along the way.
All I’d really heard about Kena: Bridge of Spirits prior to playing it was that it had some cute little fluff-balls in it, and that it had a PS2-era action/adventure vibe. It slipped under my radar until I found a copy slumming it among the kids’ karting games and Switch code-in-a-box trash in my local B&M, and decided I’d pick it up. It sat on my shelf for a month or so before it became chosen, and the seal was broken.
Kena: Bridge of Spirits is at its prettiest when you’re surrounded by lush greenery in some winding forest path.
What awaited me was a very pretty game with a vague Zelda-like gameplay style and combat that initially seems simplistic but ends up being surprisingly deep and really quite difficult when it wants to be. Kena attacks with her magical staff thing, and over the course of the game will unlock other abilities like using the staff as a mystical bow and dashing through enemy attacks. The combat is kind of slow but feels responsive and is balanced well. I never got on with the parrying as Kena’s shield ability always felt very static and I would instinctively dodge and roll instead, but never felt held back by basically forgetting the shield/parry system existed. By the end of the game I was using the upgraded bomb attack to give me an edge against the difficult late-game bosses, and got into an enjoyable loop of chucking a shiny, blue bomb on the floor and then shooting it so that it would send little homing bombs off to attach to enemies, clearing out crowds of weaker foes and circumventing a certain boss’ ability to deflect bombs and arrows back at me.
All of these abilities have uses outside of battle too, and are used in various ways to solve usually-simple puzzles to progress. It’s during these exploration sequences when Kena: Bridge of Spirits feels most like a Zelda game, but Link never had a horde of up to a hundred little chubby fellas running around after him, did he?
Some hats look like they were foraged from the forest floor, others look like they were specifically made by skilled tailors and artisans. This raises questions.
That’s where this game’s main selling point comes in, or at least its unique selling point. The Rot (which comes across as a weird name but I guess it’s derived from some real-world mythology in a way that would make it make sense) are small spirits that appear to live under rocks and in chests throughout the world, and when Kena sniffs one out, they open their big, dark eyes and smile an adorable little smile and tag along for the adventure. These guys will literally follow Kena around as well, dashing behind her along forest paths or swimming through crystalline waters in her wake. They’ll appear in pots or on ledges as well, and the “main” Rot – the first one that Kena finds and the one that is revealed to have extra-special story significance – will occasionally point out nearby secrets and puzzles solutions.
There are a hundred of these Rot to find, and all of them look and act like a cross between a Minion, a Kodama from Princess Mononoke, and some kind of forest Furby. You’ll often find yourself directing them around the game world, lifting blocks, tipping pots, and swarming around corrupted plants to help banish the “poison” from the world. They’re also useful in combat, distracting some enemies, damaging others, and occasionally being able to make use of nearby flowers to heal Kena.
Due to the fact that Kena exclusively wields a staff in melee, you’ll be dishing out a lot of firm bonks.
I’m not sure how much I like the Rot. They’re fine, and they’re cute, but they’re Dreamworkscute, and I think I’m kind of done with that vibe. Also, they all look exactly the same (although some are slightly larger than others) and I would always have a little pang of disappointment when I uncovered another identical Rot. Some part of me was always expecting them to be a different colour or something, I guess. At least you can put hats on them, and I did really enjoy finding hats and forcing the little guys to wear them. My wife and daughter were far more enamoured with the Rot than I was, and practically swooned when they saw the little guy in the dinosaur hat. I just thought they were mildly charming and an interesting way to interact with the puzzles and combat. I would like to tell you whether they’re implemented in a similar way to the minions in the likes of Pikmin or Overlord, but I haven’t played either of those games so I don’t know.
Kena: Bridge of Spirits often delighted me with its visuals. There are some truly stunning environments, especially early on when exploring lovely forest paths with dappled sunlight coming through the trees. This is an exceptionally pretty game that uses influences from a melting pot of Eastern cultures to create a fairly enchanting whole. I will say, though, that I didn’t really like the characters looking like they were lifted from a modern Pixar or Dreamworks movie with a somewhat lower budget. I may be wrong, but I felt like the animation, especially the lip-syncing and general mouth animations, weren’t of a high enough quality to sit comfortably with the visual style the game was going for, and thus I left a little put off when the characters were speaking.
That red flower in the background is bad and must be smushed.
I do wish there was a bit more variety in the locations as well. The village and its surrounding woodlands look amazing, but the game only really offers up a significantly different biome towards the end, and it would have been nice to have seen a bit more variety. During certain parts of the game the weather changes, and the woods might become dark and rainy or the village might have an ominous red sky overhead. These moments are awesomely atmospheric, but are reserved for a few short, cinematic sections and then you’re back to fine weather again. Maybe a weather cycle would have been nice, but I feel like I’m nit-picking at this point. Kena: Bridge of Spirits is a fantastic looking game but if you’re not big on woods and idyllic mountainside cabins, you’re not going to find much else to get excited about.
There were a few glitchy moments, but nothing to hurt the overall experience. Sometimes the Rot would glitch into the floor or flicker in and out of existence, but given that they’re tiny magical beings who appear wherever they like, these moments were acceptable (I could tell when they were being glitchy rather than being magical, though, before you start). Kena also does the thing where if you jump onto a rock or bush that she can’t stand on she’ll kind of float around awkwardly against invisible walls and floors until she eventually lands somewhere she’s supposed to be. There are also plenty of areas where, if you pay attention, you’ll notice that she’s not standing on the ground but levitating a few inches above it. In such a lavish looking game, these little moments can take you out of the world.
Masks play an important part in the symbolism and gameplay of Kena: Bridge of Spirits. Did I mention the masks?
But what a world it is, and I had a great time exploring it. The game is fairly short and the world is fairly compact, but the whole thing is wonderfully designed, and the combat and exploration are both of a high enough quality that you should be entertained throughout. The story is fine but the atmosphere is occasionally enchanting, and the soundtrack accompanies the whole thing perfectly. The game can be difficult and the boss fights can feel epic, and there are plenty of collectibles (and lots of hats) to find to keep you busy. Also, there are optional combat and platforming trials if you like that sort of thing, as well as an unlockable New Game+ and multiple difficulty levels.
Kena: Bridge of Spirits is a great experience that doesn’t outstay its welcome and offers up a vibrant world and some cute critters to explore it with. If the idea of strolling through gorgeous woodland, digging up big-eyed little Troll-looking things, fighting baddies made out of gnarled wood and placating some non-spooky ghosts sounds interesting to you, get down to your local B&M and buy yourself a copy. Pick up some sweets or some Jammie Dodgers while you’re there maybe.
There’s something about the Metroid series. It’s a franchise that I’ve been interested in for a long time but didn’t leap into until Metroid Dread. Sadly priced out of most of the earlier entries into the series, I did consume lots of content about Metroid lore and history following my introduction to Samus Aran’s atmospheric adventures. I then jumped into Metroid Prime Remastered, and have now finally finished my third game in the franchise with the recently-released Metroid Prime 4: Beyond. I wrote about Metroid Dreadhere, and did a game diary on Metroid Prime Remasteredhere.
Nintendo’s Alien-inspired sci-fi series is fascinating to me, as its mixture of the Japanese giant’s bright and breezy style and the horror and isolation taken from Ridley Scott and James Cameron’s pair of masterpieces creates a beguiling whole. Some of the enemies are pretty creepy, and many of the bosses are incredibly monstrous, but much of the actual horror found in Metroid is inferred from background details and logbook entries. Instead, Samus’ adventures are more tightly focused on atmosphere and that all-important sense of isolation.
I tried the mouse controls and it does work well, but I soon settled on the standard controller-style method.
So, why does Metroid Prime 4: Beyond have a super-talkative companion and radio buddy, then? Honestly, I don’t think the companion characters are that much of an issue. Mackenzie, the one that everyone has the specific problem with, is kind of annoying at first, but he’s okay in the long run, and I always felt that the side-view Metroid games did the isolation thing better anyway. If you’re put off trying Metroid Prime 4: Beyond because of the complaints you’ve heard about Mackenzie and pals, don’t be, you and Samus will still have plenty of chances for alone time in the depths of some godforsaken heck-hole, way out of radio contact from your bespectacled chaperone.
I actually managed to 100% my play-through of Metroid Prime 4: Beyond. The item completion kind of happened naturally, and then I used the internet to find the last few scans before I took on the final area. I feel no shame at this; I don’t have time to piss about aimlessly looking for something called a “blow hopper” that spawns in a single location beneath a volcano, I had to ride my motorcycle around a desert smashing through a seemingly unlimited phalanx of sparkly green crystal formations. That was my way of introducing the other biggest annoyance I’ve seen people bring up about this game, by the way; the great crystal hunt. Again, I didn’t mind it, and spent an hour before my push into the game’s final sequence riding around in a zen-like state and mopping up the last of those crystals in one fell swoop. It was okay, and it didn’t take too long, even with Mackenzie sticking his oar in over the radio link from time to time.
This game has its own share of excellent tunes, but the Phendrana Drifts music will always pop into my head when looking at vistas like this.
Right, enough babbling, let’s start the “review” already. Metroid Prime 4: Beyond looks phenomenal, and uses its rich, mystical colour palette to paint a lively and awe-inspiring fantastical world. At times it reminded me of the awesome sci-fi art of the sixties, seventies, and eighties by the likes of John Harris and Manchu, at times it reminded me of James Cameron’s Avatar series of movies, and at times, yes, it did remind me of Halo. It does have its own thing going on though, and the environments look incredible whether you’re overlooking sweeping vistas and epic sky-boxes in the desert hub area or booking it through tight corridors filled with secreted alien goop at the bottom of a vast mining complex.
I was playing on the Switch 2 in Quality Mode and the game consistently looked fantastic with no noticeable drops in performance. Occasionally I would notice a few pixelated details though, and mostly on the helmet visors of the small squad of Galactic Federation soldiers Samus encounters, or on the hammerhead shark-like face of the super-beefy allied android, VUE-995. On the rare occasions when the squad’s visors open and you see their actual faces, there are no such issues and there are some high quality facial animations on show, but the fuzziness on their helmets is noticeable on occasion and can be a minor immersion killer. For the most part though, this is a mighty fine looking game.
So, what actually happens to Samus when she’s a ball?
The gameplay is also on point. There’s nothing very new to report if you’ve already played any of the Metroid Prime games (meaning that the new “psychic” powers Samus attains aren’t actually very different from her usual abilities in practice) but if you’re new to the Metroid party, expect a super-smooth FPS experience with a slower, considered pace, a fair helping of puzzles and back-tracking, and a high-concept sci-fi feel, favouring elemental-based weapons over Aliens-style modern solid round firearms. Players are expected to engage with the world by way of scanning critters, lore items, and enemies, and by exploring every nook and cranny for upgrades. Puzzles range from simplistic to devious, but progress-blocking brainteasers never offer up too much of a problem, meaning that the pace is rarely harmed.
Comparing Metroid Prime 4: Beyond to Metroid Prime Remastered, I’d say that this game is more straightforward in its level design. There are also fewer aggravating enemies, and most players will have an easier time with the general aggressive flora and fauna (as well as the mysterious “grievers”) that make up most of the combat. One or two of the bosses put up a legitimate fight, and the final confrontation is suitably challenging, but overall, Beyond is an easier game than Prime Remastered. I didn’t mind this at all, as I did find that Prime Remastered started to wear on me at times, and the fission metroids that were encountered regularly towards the end of that game were a frustrating pain-in-the-arse to fight. There’s nothing like that here, and this is alright with me.
This is a Griever. The game’s story definitely has a light theme of grief, mourning and loss, which is unsubtly hinted at with some of the species names.
The weapons and gadgets are as fun to use as always. By collecting enough of the infamous green crystals Samus can upgrade her basic cannon, and this upgraded version feels a lot more satisfying to use. The super-charged fire shot is also a lot of fun to unleash, and the super-charged thunder shot is an absolute dream, sending a devastating beam of erratic, electric energy that homes in on every enemy nearby and erases them in a visual feast of spectacular obliteration. It almost feels overpowered, but you’ll have earned it by the time you get it, and it uses a fair chunk of ammo, too.
Not that I ever really had to worry about ammo. Well, not until the very last battle at least where I was spamming the final suit’s overshield ability which inexplicably uses your missile supplies to power up. Metroid Prime 4: Beyond locks its hard difficulty until you’ve completed the game on normal. I haven’t tried it yet, but apparently it causes save points to only restore health instead of health and ammo, so I suspect that this, along with the generally tougher enemies, means that ammo conservation comes into play a lot more if you’re brave enough and time-rich enough to go through another play-through on hard mode. I won’t be doing it, I’ve got other games to play. Those last few bits of concept art in the gallery will have to stay locked, I’m afraid.
So, should I be getting attached to these guys or nah?
I really enjoyed Metroid Prime 4: Beyond. Its stellar art direction, memorable musical accompaniment, and tried and tested gameplay and progression made for a very satisfying and compelling experience. I found the supporting cast likeable (even Mackenzie by the end) and they were used sparingly enough that the sense of isolation still had its time to shine. I enjoyed the boss fights and felt comfortable with the controls, and I only occasionally got a bit exasperated with the back-tracking and the more fiddly areas (like some of the morph ball sections in the powered-up bike factory).
Speaking of bikes, I’m a sucker for a sleek, futuristic motorcycle design, and Metroid Prime 4: Beyond does not disappoint in that regard. Vi-O-la, as Samus’ glamorous, metallic steed is known, is a highlight of the game, even if you’ll mostly be riding it around empty desert hunting down those blasted green crystals. I like a sci-fi bike, and Vi-O-la is a sci-fi bike that I like.
As a self-confessed Johnny-come-lately to the venerable Metroid franchise, Metroid Prime 4: Beyond gets an enthusiastic thumbs-up from me. Sleek, slick, and exceedingly pretty, Samus’ most recent outing didn’t outstay its welcome and kept me interested throughout, never once becoming a chore, even when I was filling the crystal receptacle so that I could get a special memory fruit or whatever that bit was all about. Look, just stop being such a blow hopper and give it a try, okay?
When you start a new game on Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, you’re asked to select a difficulty setting. The game tells you that in order to get by in normal difficulty (known as “expedition” mode) you won’t need to master the dodging and parrying mechanics. This is a lie. Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, developed by debuting French studio, Sandfall Interactive, is a tough game. It’s a turn-based RPG but it incorporates real-time mechanics in the vein of Paper Mario or Lost Odyssey, where timed button presses will enhance your attacks or reduce incoming damage. Except, it doesn’t feel like either of those games, it feels more like Dark Souls in turn-based form as statuesque, imposing and grotesque enemies consistently make an absolute mockery of your character’s health bar if you don’t have the reflexes of a mantis shrimp.
Alright, I might be overselling it a little bit, but every new area in Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 has the potential to be an absolute nightmare until you get certain timings and attacks memorised. To be fair, all of this works well thematically, as your party of intrepid explorers are in a somewhat dire situation in the game’s story, and the desperation that can often be felt as you scrape through dangerous encounters on an absolute knife edge really fits the bill. You do get the hang of it, though, and when you do, it feels pretty darned good. Until the next batch of combo-happy menaces comes along and you have to start the learning process all over again, that is.
During battles, you can aim freely and shoot a ranged attack. It doesn’t usually do much damage, but definitely has its uses against certain bad guys. There’s so much to battling that I haven’t mentioned in this article, but let’s just say that it’s complex in an awesome way.
I’ll talk briefly about the story, but it’s one of those games where to do much more than scratch the surface constitutes outrageous spoilers. You take on the role of the loveable and handsome Gustave, who is a bit of a savant when it comes to magic, technology, and combat. He’s part of Expedition 33, along with two other early companions, Lune and Maelle, and they’re off on an extremely dangerous and basically suicidal quest to eliminate an entity known as the Paintress. This artistic antagonist lives across the sea, and paints a number every year on a gigantic monolith visible from pretty much everywhere in the known world. Everyone of that age will disappear in a sprinkle of ash and petals once that number is erased, and every year, the number goes down by one.
As you can imagine, this is a pretty sorry state of affairs, and each year life in Gustave’s home-town of Lumiére gets more and more desperate. Don’t worry, though; the player is in charge of this expedition, so that means it’s sure to succeed, right? Well, let’s just say there are some complications and leave it at that.
Excellent cinematography, voice acting, and digital acting all combine to make for compelling cut-scenes. It’s just as well, because the story is multi-layered and winding, and as such the cut-scenes have a lot of work to do.
As discussed by its developers, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 is a tribute to traditional, Japanese RPGs given a modern, big-budget Western RPG makeover. The battles are turn-based, there’s a world map to traverse and a method of transport that can be gradually upgraded to be able to travel in new ways, and there are plenty of weapons to equip and skill trees to explore. Among the games cited as influences by Guillaume Broche, the talented, ex-Ubisoft creator behind Clair Obscur: Expedition 33, are Persona 5, Final Fantasy VIII, IX, and X, and Lost Odyssey and Blue Dragon, but he has also pointed out that the parry and dodge mechanics were influenced by Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice. Honestly, the FromSoftware influence stands out to me more than that of the traditional JRPG thanks to its difficulty, mechanics, and visual design, but maybe that’s just because the traditional JRPG format is so familiar to me.
Of the list of Broche’s influences, I’ve only played Lost Odyssey to completion, but Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 did remind me of a couple of other games that I finished more recently. Firstly, it evoked a lot of the same feelings as Xenoblade Chronicles 3. Both are a melancholy tale about an adventuring group of young people trying to escape a mysterious cycle caused by outside influences that has condemned them to live tragically short lives. I see a lot of similarities in the world design as well, and the music of one could easily fit seamlessly into the other.
The decorative blob in the water is the character that carries you around the world map. You’ll probably like him, he’s called Esquie. A character named Monoco is super-cool, too, but I can’t say too much more because of spoilers.
Another slightly more specific comparison I couldn’t help but make was with Dragon Age: The Veilguard. Alongside some visual similarities, both games have an early area that consists of a mystical forest with bizarre light shows in the air and broken, floating landmasses everywhere. Also, both games have another early area that appears to be underwater but the characters can walk around and breathe uninhibited. Lastly, both games have a thing going on where amalgamations of multiple dead bodies litter certain locales and leak pools of unspeakable fluid into the earth, and both games have characters that insist on walking around barefooted and treading in the aforementioned pools of smelly viscera. The game lets you change which character model you’re controlling at will, but I won’t be choosing Lune until she puts some bloody shoes on.
Podophobia-baiting aside, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 is a beautiful game filled with wondrous landscapes, deep themes, and emotions ranging from elation to despair and everything in between. The central mystery is compelling and addictive, and the story is consistently surprising. All of the characters are likeable but, as with real people, all of them have their quirks or weaknesses that give them the potential to rub certain personality types the wrong way. This in turn makes for some interesting inter-party dynamics, and all of this is helped along by some great voice acting (although by default the voices are very quiet, so make sure you adjust the volume setting when you start), stellar visuals, outstanding cinematography, and wonderful music.
Very rarely, the game will throw some surprising platforming at you. This image shows the most hair-raising of all the platforming sections, and also one of the many outfits you can dress your characters up in.
Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 isn’t just an example of a fantastic game, though. It’s also an example of a new studio making a single-player, non-live service title and releasing it physically, and achieving great reviews and a stellar sales performance. It must be protected and it must be supported, so other developers and publishers take note and have the confidence to do the same. In this world where EA were fighting to wedge shared world features into Dragon Age: The Veilguard and have pretty much killed off that franchise because it doesn’t fit with their perceived future of always-online consistent worlds and microtransactions, Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 is an important breath of fresh air, and must be purchased by anyone with even a passing interest in video game preservation.
It is also very, very French. Play for long enough and explore hard enough and you can equip all of your characters with fetching berets and deadly baguettes as weapons. I’m not even kidding. C’est vrai!
Developed by Polymorph Games and reaching full release on 31st January 2025, Foundationis a laid-back city-builder with a peaceful, pastel tone and a light-hearted approach. The game launched into early access on 1st February 2019 and, according to my Steam purchase history, I picked it up in March of 2019. It wasn’t much of a game back then – the UI was an ugly mess, the graphics were super-basic, the tech trees were incomplete, and much of the gameplay was totally unrefined. That’s the nature of early access, and it’s not something I mess with often, but something possessed me back in those care-free, pre-pandemic days, and now that the game is finally out, I definitely don’t regret buying it.
The main thing that Foundation does to differentiate itself from similar city-builders is its organic building placement. There’s no grid system, and the player doesn’t place roads, with paths occurring naturally on regularly used thoroughfares, just like the classic Settlers games. You can place any building absolutely anywhere inside your territory and your villagers will react accordingly once they’ve been assigned to the jobs there. Residential buildings are zoned rather than placed directly, with players using a paintbrush tool to highlight areas where the villagers can build their houses, and this same tool is used to highlight which resources should be extracted and even which areas your villagers aren’t allowed to tread.
Did you ever play with plastic farm animals and fences when you were a kid? This is that, but digitally.
Certain buildings are heavily customisable, from churches to inns to castles, and even the lord’s manor. When planning such works of architectural wonder, you’ll be selecting from various rooms, entrances, wings and decorations until you’ve got the layout you like, and once things are finalised your builders will get to work – if they’re not buying berries from the local market or sitting around on a bench, that is. The decorations will tend to increase your settlement’s “splendor” in one of three categories; labour, kingdom, and clergy, which will unlock new levels of building in these categories. Labour tends to encompass your market and your lord’s manor, clergy goes towards churches and monasteries, and kingdom grants you the ability to fortify your settlement and build watchtowers and castles. Fully upgrading these majestic works tend to be your end goal, and depending on whether you’re feeling regal, religious, or like a man of the people, you can choose an appropriate goal at the start of the game, or just do whatever you want and treat the whole thing like a big, medieval sandbox.
Foundation strikes an addictive balance between keeping things relaxing while still providing moderately challenging resource chains and progression requirements to get to grips with. It’s not difficult to get high level residential areas in your growing town, but it’ll take some time and provide you plenty to think about along the way. You might even need to partake in a bit of forward planning.
The higher-level residential buildings require nearby beautification, paved roads, and more. Fussy, these posh types.
The game’s visuals match its laid-back vibe, with cartoony villagers and brightly-coloured houses all nestled into a cosy, storybook countryside. At times, especially once I started to surround my settlement with a lovely palisade fence, Foundation’s visuals really took me back to my childhood days of lying on the sofa reading Asterix comics, and that’s a good thing. At the time of writing there is no day/night cycle, but you can manually change the visual ambience from daylight to rainy to night-time and to sunset, just in case you want to imagine the diminutive Gaul and his pals enjoying a lavish victory banquet under the setting sun right there in your village. There are enough boars in the forests to keep Obelix busy, that’s for sure.
While Foundation does enable you to build castles, erect defensive walls, and enlist soldiers, there is no combat in the game (again, at the time of writing), with soldiers instead sent out on missions, earning your settlement reputation and occasionally bringing back spoils. Your villagers will also appreciate feeling secure, with a decent level of local fortifications and patrols being prerequisites for higher density housing. If you want actual fighting, though, you’re probably better off with Manor Lords.
“If you find yourself riding alone through green fields with the sun on your face, do not be troubled, for you are in Elysium, and you’re already dead!”
Incidentally, the mighty Manor Lords, still in early access at the time of writing, is another game that I bought before its full release. While the two games go for completely different visual styles, and Foundation doesn’t seem to concern itself too much with historical accuracy, the two games have very similar mechanics. It’s not exactly fair to compare a game that’s fully released with a game that’s still in early access, but I will say that I enjoy Foundation more than I enjoy Manor Lords for now. Obviously, this could change drastically, but as things stand, I’d heartily recommend Foundation for those who’re still finding Manor Lords a bit short on content and goals, and don’t mind some cartoony visuals in lieu of Manor Lords’ historically accurate buildings and gorgeous rolling hills that look exactly like the views from nearby beauty spots here in sunny Somerset.
Foundation doesn’t go for this kind of realism, but if you like the idea of an organically growing cartoon village, customisable buildings and monuments, and a low-pressure, relaxing sandbox to lord over your bright-eyed little medieval peasants in, then you should definitely give it a try. It’s easy to pick up and quite difficult to put down. The gradual progress is addictive and the constant balancing act of keeping your villagers happy and your supply lines running makes it far too easy to just keep playing, even if you really need to be cooking dinner or picking up the child from her youth club or whatever. Yes, I am speaking from personal experience.
A sprawling monastery overlooks a developing town, and in the distance, the beginnings of a mighty fortress stand atop a hill.
If you remember playing the classic Settlers games, and occasionally miss its light-hearted, addictive style (and the way the roads and paths appear organically), then Foundation will definitely scratch that itch. If not, then give it a try anyway, you might find yourself fascinated by your organically growing medieval settlement, and become enthralled in the act of creating a beautiful little ancient Gaulish village of your own. Watch out for Romans, though, okay?
I don’t feel all that qualified to assess Drainus. I really like a good shoot-’em-up, and have lots of respect and nostalgia for the genre, but I’m actually shockingly bad at them. Whether I was begging my parents for change just to instantly get shot down on the 1942 arcade machine they had at a local pub, or never getting past the first level on the likes of Hellfire and Thunderforce II on the Mega Drive, I don’t exactly have the skill-set to excel at anything resembling “bullet hell”.
Drainus is fucking cool, though. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that title obviously doesn’t come across very well to a native English speaker, but everything else about the game is about as close to perfect as a shoot-’em-up can get.
In Drainus, which was initially released in 2022 and developed by Team Ladybug (who also developed one of my game diary subjects, Record of Lodoss War: Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth), players take on the role of Irina, a young lady with a strong sense of justice and a haircut that made me think she was a boy. She’s an excellent pilot, and she’s been hiding out from an evil space empire while trying to find a cure for her extremely sick “daddy”.
It’s probably not hardcore enough to be called Bullet Hell by real genre aficionados. Bullet Heck, maybe?
She’s accompanied by a time-travelling “humanoid” pilot called Ghenie, who looks like something in between Slippy Toad and the drummer from Interstella 5555, and between the two of them they have to fight through the Kharlal Empire’s humongous fleet of deadly weaponry, tie up nasty time paradoxes, and deal with Irina’s sister, Layla, who happens to be second-in-command of the Empire’s forces (and yes, even though she’s clearly older and more together, she refers to their dad as “daddy”, too).
Luckily, thanks to Ghenie, Irina has found herself in the pilot seat of a “Drainus”, an advanced experimental craft that can adsorb energy from light-based weapons and unleash it upon the enemy in the form of a powerful homing attack. This ability, on top of presumably being responsible for the game’s unfortunate title, provides Drainus‘ unique twist – a mechanic that allows players to absorb certain types of attack in a similar vein to Ikaruga, and also to take the offensive in interesting ways.
The beam absorption mechanic in action.
This results in gameplay that encourages a daring play-style. In order to get the upper hand against the swarms of basic enemies, challenging mini-bosses and overwhelming stage bosses, players will have to suck up otherwise devastating beam attacks and unleash them at the right time, taking chunks out of the health bars of hard-to-reach enemies.
There’s also a question of timing, as you can’t just fly your Drainus around without a care in the world, sucking up all of the enemy projectiles willy-nilly. Hold down the button for too long and the ship’s energy absorbing apparatus will fail, leaving you vulnerable while it charges up again. Also, you can’t suck up physical projectiles (handily highlighted with a red outline), so constant vigilance is required.
Throughout the game, players will be collecting power that can be spent at any time in the game’s menu to upgrade their ride’s weapons and other systems, meaning that there’s plenty of different ways to customise your gameplay. You can even upgrade your energy absorption bar, meaning you’ll be able to hold down the button and tank that super-boss’ screen-filling beam weapon for even longer. It’ll make you feel powerful, but you’ll need all that power to take on the rapidly-escalating threat of the legions of bosses, synchronised enemy fleets, and stage obstacles that the game will throw at you.
I actually found myself fairly interested in the story, too, and was invested in how Irina and Layla’s relationship would develop. There’s even a bit of a fake-out ending, and the game handles its time-travel story in a way that keeps things interesting until the very end. That’s coming from someone who has a major aversion to time-travel stories outside the first two Terminator flicks.
Another possible explanation for the game’s unattractive name is that the developers might have wanted it to sound a bit like Darius or Gradius.
The game also lets you continue as much as you want, even saving your progress through a level when you pick it up and try again, and this is the only reason I was capable of finishing the campaign. I got shot down my fair share of times, but I still felt like some kind of badass, bullet hell pro when I saw those credits roll, and I came back for more, too. There are also unlockable difficulty levels and an arcade mode for those looking to prove themselves in the pilot’s seat.
On top of all of its accoutrements and imaginative gameplay elements, though, Drainus manages to do the basic stuff perfectly. The game looks fantastic, the controls are crisp and poised to perfection (the whole thing looks and plays superbly using the Switch’s handheld mode), and the music is toe-tapping throughout.
My favourite power-ups are the ones that attach a formation of blaster-equipped pods to your ship.
I imported the physical Switch version of Drainus based on the fact that I wanted a nice shoot-’em-up on the console and that I’d heard some good things here and there. I’m really glad I did, as Drainus has proven to be yet another prize specimen indie title in my physical Switch collection. With this and Record of Lodoss War: Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth in the bag, Team Ladybug are now two for two on exemplary games that get an emphatic thumbs up from me.
Wait, are Team Ladybug the new Treasure? Drainus certainly feels like a 2D classic in the vein of Treasure’s legendary output, but maybe it’s a little hasty to compare the two just yet. I’ll definitely be keeping an eye on what the ladybugs get up to in the future, though. When they’re not sitting around on leaves eating aphids, that is.
Despite not being a “boomer” (I’m D-Generation X, baby), I’m quite fond of Boomer Shooters. Anything that reminds me of simpler times blasting away on the likes of Duke Nukem 3D and Hexen on my Sega Saturn is going to have a decent shot at earning my affections. Also, I like that they don’t tend to be too much of a time commitment, and can make for a straightforward and violent palette cleanser between lengthy RPGs or modern cinematic action games that demand lots of hours and dedication.
These days, I tend to try to be a physical-only gamer, as I enjoy feeding the shelves in the rumpus room almost as much as I enjoy playing a good video game, and in the last few years I’ve finished the (as far as I’m aware) only three Boomer Shooters that you can buy physically for the Nintendo Switch: Ion Fury, Warhammer 40,000: Boltgun, and now, finally, Prodeus.
You’ll be mowing down so many minions of Chaos you’ll think you were playing Space Marine 2! (I completed that, too, by the way)
I didn’t write about the first two games so I’ll very briefly sum up my opinions on them here. Ion Fury is a fantastic Duke Nukem 3D love-letter that has been tastefully modernised in all the right places, and Warhammer 40,000: Boltgun is a satisfying blast through the endless minions of Nurgle and Tzeentch that often pushes Nintendo’s ageing HDMI-enabled tablet beyond breaking point when it comes to framerate.
That leaves Prodeus, which I purchased sometime in 2024 and finally got around to playing in January of 2025. The game was developed by Bounding Box Software and was the result of a successful Kickstarter campaign. It offers multiplayer content as well as a single player mode, but I don’t dabble with multiplayer these days. I like my peace and quiet, you know? This will be a review of the campaign only.
The plot of Prodeus is purposefully left fairly ambiguous. From what I can fathom from the pre-stage descriptions, the game takes place on an asteroid that’s being mined for fuel (and possibly artefacts) and two opposing, interdimensional forces have converged on said asteroid to enact some kind of cosmic war. These two forces are Chaos, who have a demonic vibe and can apparently turn human soldiers into Doom-style zombies, and Prodeus, who are technologically advanced entities of light who can wrest control of Chaos’ demonic units, turning them into upgraded, blue-tinted versions of themselves.
As for the protagonist? Well, it’s hard to tell. There’s an opening sequence where they get killed horribly and then awoken in some kind of tank, and in-game text occasionally refers to them as a “Vessel”, but that’s about all you’ve got to go on. The Doom-style portrait at the bottom of the screen (that appears more skull-like as you take damage), has a cybernetically-enhanced super-soldier aesthetic, so maybe they’re some kind of Prodeus experiment that went rogue, but it’s all a bit vague. The setting is compelling enough, though, and you won’t be thinking too hard about the nuances of character development when you’re blasting something’s face off with four simultaneous super shotgun shells.
Which one is the Keymaster and which one is the Gatekeeper?
All of the guns in Prodeus are great, and the game starts you off simple with a very satisfying pistol. All of the usable weapons are split across five different types of ammo, and each ammo type will feed every weapon in that class. These are bullets, shells, rockets, energy and chaos, and the different guns in the various classes all do a fine job of staying relevant as you unlock new implements of destruction. Even weapons that you’d think would be very similar or just straight upgrades, like the shotgun and the super shotgun, are different enough to drastically change gameplay. The shotgun fires more shells before needing to reload and has a secondary mode that’s a bit more effective at range, while the super shotgun can fire all four loaded shells in a satisfying blast that’ll leave all but the most elite enemy types with a severe case of bloody dismemberment.
Speaking of which, the blood effects are on point, too, with enemies exploding very satisfyingly and painting floors and walls in a tasteful shade of crimson. If a baddie pops in a tight enough space its insides will even cover the ceiling, and this results in a generous period of dripping gore, giving the game a very violent and visceral air.
Even when they’re not covered in copious helpings of tomato sauce, Prodeus’ environments look great. The visuals are purposefully very pixelated (although it looks less so in motion than the screenshots would have you believe), but the game still has a sleek feel with heaps of atmosphere. Many of the locations are quite alien and abstract, especially once you enter the Prodeus dimension, and the whole thing is built on a very dark base colour scheme with orange or blue highlights depending on whether Prodeus or Chaos are in the ascendancy at that point in the campaign. The game could be accused of looking quite samey, but a couple of highlights, like the Space Station or the dark, rainy ocean environment in the Trench level, do manage to provide some memorable focal points along the way.
As for the gameplay; it’s extremely solid. The controls are crisp and responsive, I only noticed two sections where the framerate took a noticeable hit, and the enemy variety keeps things interesting right through to the end of the game, in part thanks to the more-powerful Prodeus-controlled versions of Chaos enemies that appear later on. While most levels consist of moving through environments, locating the odd key card, and taking out groups of enemies as you go, some stages are straight up arenas that throw enemy waves of ascending difficulty at you, just to keep things spicy. The aforementioned key card hunting doesn’t overstay its welcome either, and serves as a nice throwback to similar mechanics in the games Prodeus is so clearly influenced by.
The Prodeus campaign is a dark and dismal, viscera-soaked treat for fans of old-school FPS action, and the “boomer shooter” style gameplay is spot on. There are plenty of difficulty levels to dabble with, depending on whether you want to barely survive each encounter as a wounded, bloody wreck, or feel like an invincible god-warrior who effortlessly leaves a gory wake of destruction in their path. The locations are grimy, intimidating, and occasionally awe-inspiring, and the music, while not necessarily all that memorable, provides a fine accompaniment to the flying bullets, plasma, and Chaos energy.
The environments get quite a bit more ominous as you progress.
Where would I rate it alongside Ion Fury and Warhammer 40,000: Boltgun, you ask? Well, that’s a tough one. For thrills and personality, I’d rank it just below Ion Fury, but then, Duke Nukem 3D was the shooter I jammed with the most when I was but an eager young gamer. I’d probably say Prodeus plays a little better than Boltgun, though, just feeling that little bit crisper and clearer, although the fact that I played both games on the Switch could be affecting that decision.
Still, they’re all winners in my eyes, and that’s the important thing. Now I’m just waiting for that perfect modern re-imagining of Hexen to come out physically on the Switch. I heard Graven turned out to be a bit of a let-down though. Shame, that.
A modern remake of a “Nintendo hard” NES game that I’d never even heard of? No, it’s okay, I’ll leave it, thanks. What’s that? It’s got gorgeous, pixelated sci-fi cityscape backgrounds and super cool modern re-imaginings of 90’s ninjas and robotic enemies? Alright, you twisted my arm.
Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn, developed by Tengo Project, is a modern remake of the NES title Shadow of the Ninja, known as Blue Shadow here in Europe. It features two ninjas of the Iga clan, Hayate and Kaede, as they navigate six distinct stages in a direct attempt on the life of the evil Emperor Garuda, whose forces have taken over the United States of America.
There’s a bit of Contra in there, a sprinkling of The Ninja Warriors, and perhaps a slight bouquet of Metal Slug.
This re-imagining updates the visuals in bombastic style, with chunky sprites filled with personality, a grimy tech aesthetic juxtaposed with neon lights and splashed with delightfully garish, luminous colours, and fluid animation bringing bosses and set-pieces to life.
It’s a gorgeous-looking game, but you won’t have much time to take in the sights, as beyond a couple of basic grunt-type enemies, most of the mechs, monsters and mooks you’ll face are perfectly equipped to catch out sightseers and careless wanderers. Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn is challenging, and I can see how the original might have been a very tough nut to crack. This remake allows players to continue indefinitely from the last stage reached, but most areas still took me a lot of tries to get through, and the bosses take the difficulty up another few notches, forcing the recognition and memorisation of some devious attack patterns.
Both Hayate and Kaede control exactly the same, and can attack, crouch, jump, and attach themselves to walls and ceilings, flipping up onto higher platforms if the terrain allows. They both start off with a katana (that can be powered up to launch projectiles) and a kusarigama, which is basically a blade on a chain. The kusarigama packs a punch and can attack at range, but its longer attack animation will leave its wielder vulnerable and, unlike the katana, it cannot deflect enemy projectiles. As the game progresses, it becomes necessary to fully understand the strengths and limitations of each weapon to succeed, and knowing which attack to use and when so as not to leave yourself vulnerable to counter-attack is the key to success.
The heads fly off of these cute little laser horses when they take damage, resulting in a flying head drone and some charging, disembodied legs to deal with.
Successful players will also have to master jumping, as Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn features a few fiddly jumps here and there. The jump button has a slight delay, and this has led me to more than a few health-sapping plummets into nothingness. Luckily, falling off the screen isn’t an instant death, but the jumping is the most unsatisfying part of the game for me, and I feel like it could have been a lot smoother. The ninjas also have the ability to momentarily hover, and this is activated by pressing down and holding the jump button, which was a little too fiddly for an old and decrepit gamer like me at first. It all clicks into place eventually, but not before more than a few frustratingly missed ledges.
The “ninja gear” mechanic adds another element to the game. Throughout each stage crates will regularly hide limited-use weapons – including firebombs, larger swords, and even guns – that can be kept in a limited inventory and brought into action when they’re needed. There is a system where players can purchase unlocked items of gear to start the game with, which is definitely helpful in certain situations, but this starting gear is lost upon death, so if you’re having trouble with, say, the fourth stage boss, and purchased some gear you thought might help you with it, you better hope you get there without continuing.
If you repeatedly die on a certain stage, Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn will start to take pity on you, packing extra health-restoring goodies in your inventory like a proud ninja mum. I have no shame in admitting that I made use of these pity dumplings on numerous occasions. I did find myself getting better at the game, however, and was breezing through the formerly-difficult early stages upon a second play-through. The later areas could still be a bitch, though.
There’s also a two-player co-op mode, which I imagine is great, but I haven’t talked the daughter into trying that out with me yet.
This boss was really tough until I realised I could bash it in the head with a sword. It … wasn’t clear at first, okay?
Shadow of the Ninja – Reborn is a great retro platformer-action game with fantastic visuals and satisfying combat, that’s let down slightly by some occasionally fiddly jumping. It’s a stern test of reflexes, pattern memorisation, and patience, but if you think you’ve got the ninja skills, then I’d highly recommend taking a trip through this extremely dangerous neon metropolis.
Visually resplendent eco-strategy Terra Nil kicks things off with a dry and infertile patch of land and a limited selection of high-tech equipment, and tasks players with creating thriving and varied ecosystems through both natural and artificial means. Wind turbines power soil scrubbers, and specialist buildings distribute grasslands, fynbos (which is a new word I learned that seems to refer to a biome found specifically in South Africa), and forests across the healing land.
The multiple rivers criss-crossing those woods are the result of me trying to attract beavers.
Matters are complicated by certain factors like soil fertility and humidity levels, and would-be terraformers are tasked with figuring out how to achieve specific conditions in order for specific biome types to flourish. For example, temperate forests need ashy soil, which requires the use of a special building to start and manage a fire. Once the inferno has done its job, lush pine forests can spring up from the ashes, and once those are established, you might be lucky enough to spot a bear or two beneath the canopy.
The ultimate goal of Terra Nil is to achieve full, natural reformation over four distinct environments, cause animals to return, and achieve various environmental goals that will cause beneficial effects such as rains returning or ferns growing along the sides of rivers. The reward for all this is the ability to watch adorable, cel-shaded critters explore your picturesque islands and valleys as you sit back and celebrate a job well done.
The island maps give you the chance to create beaches, reefs and rainforests. If you’re lucky you might even see some jellyfish.
Terra Nil’s visuals do a decent job of portraying nature at its most vibrant, while still maintaining a simple, grid-based style. As you progress through the building tiers your small patch of land will become rich with meandering rivers, lush wetlands, and flowering meadows. Later environments offer island rain forests, rocky, lichen-covered tundra and even reclaimed cities as rewards, and each environment type has a second map where you’ll have to figure out how to achieve the same eco-miracles using a different set of buildings and equipment.
The game’s goals and blocky visual style actually remind me of an extremely obscure, Japanese environment-’em-up that I picked up, tried, and traded in many years ago, named Birthdays The Beginning. That particular effort failed to grab me thanks to some obtuse gameplay and strict campaign rules. Terra Nil undoubtedly does a better job of easing you in and then making you feel comfortable for your stay, but currently falls down a bit in one of the areas where Birthdays actually excelled – its wealth of content.
Sometimes you have to make things worse before you make them better.
As mentioned, Terra Nil offers four environment types with two maps each. Each environment has a handful of challenges based on humidity and temperature that unlock various effects, and six animal species that can be introduced, and that’s it. Once you’ve ticked all these boxes your only reason for continued play is to redo the various map types and see if you can achieve your goals in different ways.
I’d love a huge map that I can just take my time with, terraforming as I see fit and finding ways to overcome challenges offered by the terrain. I’d also like more animals to introduce, with some requiring extremely specific conditions that require a lot of work, making them all the more rewarding. I want these things because Terra Nil is really, really good, but a little too short. It’s a great game to pass some time with, and even with its after-the-end setting and global climate crisis message, it has a peaceful and uplifting vibe. It gives you time to think, and rewards your strategic building placement with instant swathes of colourful flora.
There’s nothing like some ideal lichen to warm you up on a cold day.
The highlight of the game, though, is the way each scenario ends. Once every building is placed and the desired utopia is achieved, the final step is to remove and recycle every trace of technology. Strategic use of terrain is required to place recycling buildings around the map, and then a recycling drone or hovercraft will start the hugely satisfying process of gradually removing any sign that you were ever there at all. Once the last building has been removed, your quadcopter will pack up and fly away, and only a burgeoning, natural landscape will remain.
It’s a beautiful moment that delivers the game’s message in a tremendously uplifting way. It’s artfully done, and considering the developer’s other works include Broforce and Genital Jousting, it’s quite a departure in tone. You’ve got to respect the versatility.
As someone who’s eyes light up at the sight of a grid-based battlefield populated with adorable 2D combatants, I was predisposed to give Into the Breach a chance. If you’re not like me, and don’t instantly fall in love with anything that bears even a passing resemblance to Shining Force III or Final Fantasy Tactics, you might glance at the relatively small battlefields and limited number of units on show and decide to give this one a miss. I’m here to politely request that you reconsider that decision, as you’re missing out on a gem! A bastard-hard and thoroughly depressing gem, but a gem nonetheless.
Despite this guy’s confidence, you won’t be able to save everyone.
This indie-developed, mech-on-kaiju strategy game has been around since 2018, but I recently picked up the physical copy on Switch, and have found myself thoroughly absorbed into its time-bending, apocalyptic world. Your job in Into the Breach is to command a small squad of mechs as they attempt to defend the world’s population and infrastructure from an onslaught of giant bugs known as the Vek. Already on its last legs due to various natural catastrophes, civilisation has been brought to the brink of destruction by the marauding kaiju, and humanity’s last hope comes in the form of a group of time-hopping mech pilots.
The main aim of the game is to protect buildings and facilities from monster attacks, as these locations provide power to your power grid, and if your power grid fails, the timeline you’re in is fucked and it’s time to bail out. If this happens, your pilots will use their timey-wimey powers to zap themselves to a different timeline and try again. Each pilot is scattered across different timelines, too, so you can only keep one of them, and if you mess up and one of your mechs gets destroyed, the pilot is (usually) gone for good. Just don’t get too attached to these guys, okay?
While Into the Breach has a lot of the gameplay and strategy you’d expect from comparable modern retro tactical games like Triangle Strategy and Wargroove, there are a few mechanics that handily set it apart. One is the previously-mentioned timeline shenanigans, which lends itself to roguelike-style progression where repeated failures result in you being slightly better-equipped to take on the next timeline. Another mechanic that sets Into the Breach apart is the fact that it will clearly tell you exactly what the monstrous Vek are planning to do in the next turn, and will allow you to plan and manipulate them appropriately.
Chemical pools and conveyor belts are just a couple of the environmental hazards you’ll be dealing with. Oh, and see that knobbly squid thing in the bottom row? Take that out first.
It may sound like being able to accurately predict the AI’s every move would make a game like this pretty easy, but this is not the case. In fact, it’s this mechanic that takes Into the Breach further into board game or puzzle game territory. This removal of random chance or behind-the-scenes calculations makes Into the Breach pure strategy, akin to Chess, and will lead to difficult decisions aplenty. Expect to find yourself staring at the screen for minutes on end, sighing and rubbing your chin as you attempt to run through sequences of moves in your head to get out of a seemingly impossible situation you’ve found yourself in. You’ll often find yourself played into a corner where you’re forced to sacrifice something, and making the difficult choice between the mission objective or one of your experienced pilots is sure to produce lots of curse words and require a cup of tea or two. You’ll need a strong stomach, thick skin, and a really, really big brain to master this one.
The final goal of the game is to defeat the Vek at their hive, which is an area that opens up after liberating two of the four available islands. The difficulty scales as you progress through the islands, so taking the Vek hive out after island number two is your easiest option, but successfully completing a four-island run is a much more difficult goal. It’s a tough ask, and only letting you take one pilot with you to the next timeline feels harsh to the point of being insurmountable. Perseverance, experimentation, and the ability to stay calm and look for options under pressure are your best weapons to get there.
It’s often better to let your mech take a hit, rather than lose some of your power grid. Even if a pilot is killed, the mech’s AI will bring it back for the next mission. You’ll probably feel bad, though.
Once you’re up and running, understanding and upgrading your mech’s abilities, manipulating the Vek into harming each other, and successfully shielding civilians from kaiju attack becomes extremely satisfying. You’ll feel like a legendary commander when you pull it off, and you’ll become more confident as you start to understand the game’s way of thinking. However, Into the Breach is always capable of surprising you, and a power grid failure that results in hordes of titanic bugs burrowing out of the Earth’s crust to overwhelm the planet’s last defenders is always only a mistake away.
As alluded to earlier, Into the Breach can initially seem limited. The maps are small, you’re usually in charge of only three units at a time, and there are only five different environment types to do battle in. However, its difficulty, ingenious mechanics, variety of environmental effects and open-ended nature make for an incredibly deep experience that will keep throwing up new problems for as long as you’re willing to solve them.
The game does its best to make you remember that there are lives at stake. Try to focus on the mission, okay?
Tough, tense, and hugely atmospheric, Into the Breach is a strategy game for big time players. Great pixel art and some fantastically appropriate musical pieces all add to a high quality strategy experience, with unlockable mech squads and pilots, and additional, advanced options allowing experienced players to tweak gameplay to their heart’s content.
Climb into your mech, steel yourself for the horrors you’re about to witness, and give this strategy gem the chance it deserves. After all, you can always abandon this timeline and jump to the next if things don’t work out.
