Ever played hide-and-seek with a deity whose whole deal is wearing the flayed skin of his victims? I have, and let me tell you, it's a hell of a time. Death Relives offers a fresh, terrifying take on horror that's worth the panic sweats.

After 20 years, one of the greatest RTS games ever made is back. I dove into the Definitive Edition of Dawn of War to see if the Emperor's finest still have what it takes, or if this is just old code in a shiny new box.

You'd think running a discount supermarket would be boring, but Discounty proves that behind every bag of frozen fries lies a dark secret, a whole lot of charm, and a surprisingly addictive gameplay loop.

Lone Wolf is what Boris and the Dark Survival should have been from the start. It’s a better, meaner, more complete game. So why is its release so damn confusing? Let's get into it.

In a world drowning in cheap jump scares, Static Dread: The Lighthouse is the shot of intelligent, atmospheric horror I've been craving. It's a game about the terror of paperwork and the whispers from the deep. Let's talk about why it's so damn good.

Abyssus launched like a submarine hitting an iceberg, but its core gameplay is pure FPS gold. With developers patching the holes at record speed, is this the next great co-op roguelite? Here's our full breakdown.

We were all geared up for the next chapter of Mafia to land us in the era of bell-bottoms and disco. Instead, Hangar 13 ripped up the timeline and threw us back to the very beginning: 1900s Sicily, where the mob was still just a handful of tough bastards with knives and a code.

For years, the tactical shooter genre has been a one-horse town dominated by Ready or Not. Now, a new challenger, SWAT Commander, has kicked down the door with a refreshingly back-to-basics approach that promises pure, smart, tactical gameplay. It has the foundation to be a true contender for the throne, but let's be clear: this thing is still janky as hell, a rough-around-the-edges Early Access title with all the beautiful potential and frustrating flaws that implies.

I’ve spent over a thousand hours of my life in the gory, chaotic, and charmingly British world of Killing Floor. I’ve held the line in West London and blasted zeds across Parisian streets. I came into Killing Floor 3 wanting, almost desperately, to love it. But after dozens of hours with this new installment, I can only come to one heartbreaking conclusion: this isn't Killing Floor. It’s a soulless, trend-chasing husk wearing the skin of a beloved franchise, a perfect example of what happens when corporate priorities poison a series' identity from the inside out.

MAVRIX by Matt Jones arrives with a hell of a promise: a massive, 100-square-kilometre open world dedicated to authentic mountain biking, blending arcade fun with sim-like controls. It’s supposed to be the game that hardcore MTB fans have been waiting for, a true successor to the likes of Descenders. And in fleeting, beautiful moments, you can absolutely see that game shining through. The problem is that this is an Early Access title in the truest sense of the word; it feels like it's straddling the line between a promising concept and a very, very early beta that we're being asked to pay a premium for.

Whoever had the idea to slam the DNA of Hades and Path of Exile together in a particle accelerator is an evil, beautiful genius. The resulting explosion, Hell Clock, is one of the most potent forms of digital heroin I’ve encountered in years. The combat is fluid, the buildcrafting is sublime, and the power curve can rocket you to godhood in a storm of screen-clearing glory.

I desperately want to tell you to buy Animal Shelter 2. Its core concept is heartwarming, and the gameplay loop is fantastic. But the entire experience is a beautiful disaster, so riddled with game-breaking bugs that I can't, in good conscience, tell you to spend your money on what feels like an unfinished beta. Not yet, anyway.

I’m so tired. Tired of broken launches, half-finished battle passes, and hundred-hour open worlds with the creative soul of a spreadsheet. So when a game from a brand-new studio slides across my desk, my expectations are usually somewhere below the floorboards. But every once in a while, a game comes along that doesn’t just raise the bar; it reminds you why you fell in love with this medium in the first place. Eriksholm: The Stolen Dream is that game. It’s a stunning, polished, and fiercely intelligent work of art that has absolutely no business being this good.

Some games give you a gun and tell you to shoot the monster. s.p.l.i.t. gives you a command line, a blinking cursor, and a palpable sense of impending doom that’s more terrifying than any creature. This is a game that gets its hooks in you deep and fast, a retrofuturist nightmare that perfectly captures the paranoid fantasy of being a hacker in some grimy, rain-slicked dystopia. It’s a potent, brain-melting experience that hurts in the best possible way. And then, just as you’re fully mainlining its particular brand of dread, it ends.

Is Wildgate worth it? Our review covers the chaotic fun of its ship combat and team-based piracy, but also the glaring issues with its microtransactions and solo queue experience.

Once in a blue moon, a game comes along that defies easy categorization. Back to the Dawn is one of those games. It’s an RPG, an immersive sim, a point-and-click adventure, and a brutal time-management puzzle, all crammed into a maximum-security prison populated by talking animals. It sounds completely unhinged on paper. In reality, it's a sprawling, intricate, and brilliantly designed masterpiece that will sink its claws into you and not let go.

On paper, Phantom Squad is a dream come true. It’s a top-down, co-op tactical shooter that promises the meticulous planning of Doorkickers with the direct control and brutal gunfights of Hotline Miami. And when it works, it's a goddamn blast of coordinated breaches and intense firefights. But for every moment of tactical genius, there's a moment of pure, controller-snapping bullshit that makes you question everything.

Let's be honest, we've all watched Breaking Bad and thought, "I could do that." Well, Definitely Not Fried Chicken is here to let you live out your Gus Fring fantasy, building a sprawling drug empire behind the friendly facade of a fried chicken joint. The concept is a 10/10, a pure genius idea for a tycoon game. While it's not without its fair share of jank and questionable design choices, the core loop is dangerously addictive.

In a genre full of sterile grids and predictable challenges, The Wandering Village comes lumbering over the horizon with a concept so brilliant and weird it's impossible to ignore. You're not just building a city; you're building a city on the back of a colossal, six-legged, dinosaur-dog-god named Onbu. Your job is to keep both your whiny villagers and your giant, living island alive in a world that's actively trying to poison you both. It's as stressful and beautiful as it sounds.

Let's be honest, in 2025 the words "Definitive Edition" usually mean "lazy cash grab." It's a fresh coat of paint on a rusty frame, sold to you for twice the price. So when Firefly Studios announced Stronghold Crusader: Definitive Edition, I was skeptical as hell. I am ecstatic to report that my skepticism was completely unfounded.