Category: Editorials & Retrospectives

  • Don’t skip Sovereign Syndicate on console if you’re a fan of expressive writing and intricate worldbuilding.

    Don’t skip Sovereign Syndicate on console if you’re a fan of expressive writing and intricate worldbuilding.

    The first thing that comes to mind when thinking about Sovereign Syndicate is how excellent writing can carry mechanically and visually underwhelming games – so long as you have an audience willing to read. At first glance, Sovereign Syndicate looks to chase the Disco Elysium formula, turning your protagonists’ internal dialogue and resultant personalities into the equivalent of traditional RPG classes. However, the longer you play, the more you’ll realise their starting attributes and evolving personality add flavour to the journey rather than function as hard skills-checks.

    Sovereign Syndicate is still a role-playing game in the sense that you shape the decisions the protagonists make, unlock new response types as a result of their experiences, and influence their outlook on the world. The more effort you put into tackling the secondary content, the more dialogue options you give yourself down the line. However, the initial character class and stylish Tarot card system are just another form of dice roll modifiers, and you can always save-scum your way through any skill-check if you really wanted to.

    That flexible structure and a focus on lengthy dialogue sequences can make Sovereign Syndicate feel closer to a visual novel with light RPG elements, but that’s no bad thing for those that enjoy reading and using their imagination fill out details that the inconsistent visuals and artwork cannot provide. Set in a Victorian-era London, where steampunk technology and low-fantasy magic coexist, Sovereign Syndicate takes you on a lengthy journey that switches back and forth between three characters, and there’s plenty of minor details and interactions to embellish.

    Atticus Daley is a minotaur trying to drink away his troubled orphan past, before a mysterious stranger with gun and a new nagging voice in his head set him on a quest to discover the fate of his mother. Clara Reed is a human courtesan tired of entertaining London’s elite and looking for a way to raise enough money to smuggle herself across the Atlantic. Teddy Redgrave is a dwarf and war veteran, who now spends time tweaking his automaton “Otto” and taking contracts to hunt down mythical beasts and common vermin plaguing London. It is an eclectic cast with different views on the world and characters around them, and each takes the lead on investigating secondary plot lines that run throughout the adventure.

    That structure ties into the verbose writing that, while not always consistent in delivery, is wonderfully intricate and expressive. Dialogue with key NPCs, internal monologues, and observations of the world around them are unique for each character. This allows the developers to flesh out every character and dole out heaps of worldbuilding; it provides the player much better insight into the motivations of each protagonist; and simply makes exploring the world incredibly satisfying – albeit only if you’re willing to read.

    In contrast, the gameplay mechanics feel perfunctory and drawn out you traverse several areas of London repeatedly, talking to everyone you can in each chapter to ensure you don’t miss important interactions or clues that update quest entries. Tarot card draws for dialogue challenges and environmental interactions are just dice rolls. You have an inventory but there’s little reason to ever open it as key items are flagged in conversations or during interactions when needed. It can grow increasingly tiresome and left me wondering if Sovereign Syndicate would have had better pacing if it gone for map- and menu-driven exploration similar to visual novels or point-and-click adventure games.

    That said, Sovereign Syndicate still feels unique and there is little like it on consoles aside from the aforementioned Disco Elysium. It feels like a fantasy-steampunk adventure novel recreated in video game form, and it’ll be a treat for those who enjoy visual novels or those who pore over lore documents in games. You could accuse the writers of overcomplicating or embellishing elements, but I loved the detailed internal monologues, frequent exposition, rich flavour text, and the minor changes to my options as each character evolved. If a visual novel/RPG hybrid with great writing is your idea of a good time, don’t pass up on Sovereign Syndicate (and I hope there’s a Nintendo Switch port at some point).

    Sovereign Syndicate was played on Xbox Series S|X using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC and PS5.

  • Escape from Ever After is a slick and fun homage that stretches itself too thin.

    Escape from Ever After is a slick and fun homage that stretches itself too thin.

    My first thought when putting fingers to keyboard was just how much better Escape from Ever After could have been if it had spent time with a merciless editor. Coming from a two-person indie team, it has a strong start, solid writing, thoughtful gameplay, and is far from a bad game. The problem is the longer I played, the staler the gameplay loop felt, and the more I noticed the impact of limited assets.

    For all vocal fans of the Paper Mario games, there have been surprisingly few attempts to copy that formula – think paper-craft sprites in 3D environments, serving a streamlined RPG that focuses on platforming and puzzles during exploration, and mini-games during the turn-based combat. 2019’s Bug Fables: The Everlasting Sapling is the most successful example that came to mind but Escape from Ever After now offers another indie alternative if you’re looking for more of same or don’t have Nintendo hardware.

    Escape from Ever After benefits from a great promise befitting the aesthetics. Fairytale protagonist Flynn and his arch nemesis, the dragon Tinder, are captured by Ever After Inc – a “real-world” corporation that has figured out how to extend their operations into storybooks, reduce iconic characters to white-collar workers, and exploit their fantasy worlds for profit. Deciding that they could do more damage from the inside, Flynn and Tinder begrudgingly team up and accept an employment contract from the unhinged middle-manager Mr Moon.

    The setup provides an excuse to move between the office hub in Tinder’s castle – full of office worker archetypes doling out side-quests – and a half-dozen worlds based (very loosely) on classic fairytales and other literature. There are subverted classics like The Three Little Pigs and Little Red Riding Hood, but also unexpected choices like an amusing, age-appropriate take on Lovecraft’s The Shadow Over Innsmouth. Each world has its own problems, usually exacerbated by Ever After Inc.’s rampant capitalism, and each introduces a companion that’ll join Flynn and Tinder on their adventure. Like the Paper Mario games, it is closer in style to a JRPG, so the few dialogue choices you get don’t have any real impact on how the story plays out.

    The writing still managed to impress and tug on the heartstrings at times, despite no voice work and the player controlling the dialogue flow, but gameplay dominates the experience. It revolves around exploration, some light platforming and time-based challenges, and also some light puzzling that use your companion’s abilities: think hitting distant objects with Flynn’s buckler, setting things on fire with Tinder, or manipulating plant growth and wind using Wolfgang’s melodies. It makes exploration far more interesting than simply running between set-piece battles and, naturally, you can return to worlds with new companions to use their abilities to unlock new gear, trinkets, or discover ink bottles that upgrade attacks.

    The combat is fun as it’s a low-numbers game, in which most enemies have health points in the single digits, and new gear or skills feel significant rather than incremental. Gaining XP and levelling boosts the party’s max HP, MP, or trinket slots – items that offer interesting buffs and potential trade-offs. More important is which party member abilities you use to deal with enemies that are flying, shielded, armoured, or buffing one another. You need to time button presses for blocks and attacks; complete mini-games to maximise the impact of special abilities; and simply spamming the basic attack will get you nowhere.

    Returning to my opening statement, the biggest problem Escape from Ever After faces is the 20-ish hours it takes to roll the credits. Aside from multi-phase boss encounters, there are too few enemy variants; the charming visuals slowly give way to that “made-in-Unity” look; and even the brilliant soundtrack becomes grating once you’ve heard it enough times. As someone who would always take a shorter game with a satisfying conclusion that leaves me on a high, rather than a longer one that simply leaves me relieved to see the credits roll, I can’t help but wonder why so many developers don’t follow the less is more principle?

    Escape from Ever After was played on Nintendo Switch 2 using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox Series S|X, PS5, and Nintendo Switch 1.

  • Editorial: Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on Nintendo Switch 2 crams a massive CPRG onto tiny hardware to varying degrees of success.

    Editorial: Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on Nintendo Switch 2 crams a massive CPRG onto tiny hardware to varying degrees of success.

    As a fan of classic CRPGs who grew up playing Baldur’s Gate, Icewind Dale, and Neverwinter Nights, I can’t help but love Owlcat’s isometric CRPGs. Just how much I love them, however, depends on the amount of free time I have. Their prior CRPGs based in the Pathfinder universe – Kingmaker and Wrath of the Righteous – have their flaws, but their epic scope and ambition made them easy to forgive once I was hooked. Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader continues that time-devouring trend, albeit this time within a distinctly gothic, grimdark, sci-fi universe.

    For that reason, the prospect of a Nintendo Switch 2 version, which I could pick up and put down whenever I had the time, was incredibly tempting – despite having sunk 60 hours exploring the Koronus Expanse in the Xbox Series port already. Like all good CRPGs, there is scope for replayability by rolling a different character class, experiencing the impact of tackling missions in a different order, adventuring with a different group of companions, making different major decisions at the end of each act, and role-playing a more ruthless or evil character (not that I ever do).

    Having now sunk another two-dozen hours into Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on the Nintendo Switch 2, the results are predictably hit-and-miss given the size of this game and some hardware limitations. Portability always requires sacrifice – especially when dealing with a small screen in a menu- and text-heavy game. On the upside, the outcome is mostly positive if affordable and optimised portable play is your goal. If, however, you intend to make use of the Switch 2’s hybrid nature and occasionally play it on a 4K TV, the results are less impressive.

    Starting with the good, Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on the Nintendo Switch 2 is feature-complete with no gameplay compromises (and it’s cheap). It is every bit as massive and engaging as the PC version or the other current-gen console ports (and the DLC expansions are arriving soon). The platform has no shortage of lengthy Nintendo first-party adventures and third-party JRPGs, but this is a rare western-styled CRPG for fans of the genre (the other options being literal classics, like Beamdog’s and Aspyr’s remastered D&D IP: Baldur’s Gate, Icewind Dale, and Neverwinter Nights). Isometric exploration, tactical turn-based based battles, dialogue choices with abundant skills checks, more exposition than anyone needs, and major choices that alter the later acts – it’s all accounted for.

    It took a post-launch patch or two, but Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on the Nintendo Switch 2 runs as well, if not better than the PC version on the Steam Deck and original ROG Ally (my only other points of handheld comparison). On the handheld screen, enabling TAA produces a slightly softer but less noisy image, while the framerate sticks to the 30fps target outside of a few rapidly panning cutscenes with alpha effects. Coupled with a UI and controller scheme developed and refined for the current-gen consoles, it feels more than responsive enough for general exploration and the turn-based combat. Even the load times are respectable, albeit a little longer than on the other consoles.

    The are, however, three issues of note – one subjective and two with gameplay implications. When docking the Nintendo Switch 2 and connecting to a 4K TV, you are getting a better experience than the Steam Deck or ROG Ally is capable of. However, the image is notably blurrier than when playing on even the budget Xbox Series S (especially when dynamic resolution scaling kicks in), and it appears to lack some post-processing effects that leave environments looking too bright and lacking depth. Of course, visual quality is subjective and the ability to easily suspend, resume, or continue your game away from the TV is a major perk.

    More problematic are the awkwardly overlapping menus, tooltip boxes, and tiny text when playing in handheld mode. Navigating exposition-heavy dialogue menus, cycling between environmental text descriptions, and comparing items in the inventory is a core part of any CRPG and incredibly frustrating on a small display. One potential solution is using a Joy-Con 2 as a mouse, but the implementation is an all or nothing approach. The gamepad UI is replaced by icons around the screen and almost every aspect of the game is controlled by the mouse, slowing down the pace by making actions like simple camera control frustrating.

    Ultimately, you’ll need to consider how plan to play Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader on the Nintendo Switch 2. If you play mostly in portable mode, it is an impressive version that looks and performs better than all but the most high-powered handheld PCs. The text size and limited screen space is an issue, but the rest of the port is solid and it looks good on a small screen. If, on the other hand, you alternate between portable and docked play (or if your Nintendo Switch 2 lives under the TV most of the time), Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader looks rough in comparison to other current-gen console ports, and the mouse controls need more refining. All that said, if the Nintendo Switch 2 is your only console, CRPG fans should jump on the opportunity regardless.

    Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader was reviewed on Nintendo Switch 2 using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox Series S|X, and PS5.

  • Editorial: The Tormented Souls games are for those who like a spot of survival-horror in their puzzle games

    Editorial: The Tormented Souls games are for those who like a spot of survival-horror in their puzzle games

    I regret sitting on the Tormented Souls games until a few months after the sequel arrived in 2025. As a long-time fan of classic survival-horror – going back to fixed camera angles and tank controls – both games are slightly uneven but impressive indie alternatives from Chilean developer Dual Effect.

    They have all the trappings of the classic Resident Evil and Silent Hill games: think fixed camera angles, inventory management, save rooms with soothing music, a mix of logical and absurd puzzles, and combat that is more about conserving supplies and using the right tools, rather than skilful movement and aiming (though that certainly helps).

    The setup for Tormented Souls is simple but effective, with limited exposition and lingering questions that benefit the narrative flow. Protagonist Caroline Walker receives a photograph of two girls – the sight of which causes her extreme pain. Following the address on the back of the photo, she travels to the remote Wildberger Hospital, sneaks inside, and ends up clubbed from behind.

    She wakes up naked in a bathtub, missing an eye, and with no clue as to what’s going on or why twisted monsters now stalk the halls. Like the best horror games, this leaves the player and protagonist on the same journey of discovery, without being burdened by too much prior knowledge that could ruin the sense of mystery or take the edge off the horror.

    That said, the storytelling is somewhat limited outside of a few key cutscenes towards the end of the game.

    She meets a priest seemingly oblivious to the monsters; encounters the little girl seen in the photograph; and discovers plenty of notes and audio recordings that recount the tragic story of the Wildberger family and the horrors that took place. Taking a few optional steps to save Anna is canonical, but it’s not too hard to get the “true” ending if you’re paying attention.

    Without wanting to spoil too much too soon, the sequel picks up right after the first game, as the Caroline and Anna seek solitude and healing at an old monastery. The same forces that consumed the Wildberger hospital reemerge in this new setting with an equally dark past. Many of those who offered salvation have become twisted by their own desires, shame, and guilt, which leaves Caroline on a quest to save Anna again in another monster-ridden setting.

    Once again, there’s a secondary cast that may or may not be trustworthy, and your actions towards the end of the game – primarily based on your willingness to backtrack – are important to save a key character and unlock the true ending.

    All that said, the Tormented Souls games are more body-horror than psychological-horror. The setting, brisk pacing, and narrative beats kept me engaged and pushing forward through both games, but they ultimately serve as an excuse to drag Caroline through increasingly decrepit, bizarre, and blood-stained environments packed with an inordinate number of key items and puzzles.

    The original Spencer mansion in 1996’s Resident Evil felt illogical, with misplaced keys and puzzles that forced you to backtrack from one side of the mansion grounds to the other. In contrast, the Wildberger Hospital and Villa Hess veer more towards Silent Hill levels of weirdness – including unexplained time-travel and Tormented Souls’ own take on a twisted “otherworld”.

    Of course, it all boils down to locked doors and key hunts, but what counts a key item can be wildly variable and is often just one step on the path towards another key.

    There are clues to codes found in both documents and environmental details; darkness is lethal but there are times you need to disable light sources to solve puzzles; inspecting and combining items within the inventory screen is mandatory; and most puzzles involve working out the right sequence of actions (with enough variables that brute-forcing the solution is difficult).

    If you enjoy sifting through notes, jotting down notes from environmental text, and solving twisted puzzles, Tormented Souls 1 and 2 should be on your radar. The only problem, perhaps, is that the puzzles and other designs can feel derivative; an amalgamation of the best parts of other survival-horror classics. The sequel is a far more confident game and more cohesive in design, whereas the original Tormented Souls feels disconnected at times despite still offering entertaining puzzles.

    On the topic of derivative mechanics, the combat in both games is never more than fine. Unless I missed something, the DIY weapons Caroline uses don’t seem to make any sense in the context of her character, but the modified nail-gun and a pipe-based shotgun look and sound suitably powerful as you blast enemies to the floor and finish them off with a melee weapon to conserve ammunition.

    The combat always feels secondary to the puzzles and even the rare boss fights rely more on pattern recognition and using items to end the fight, not simply unloading your most powerful ammunition into them.

    This skewed focus is most notable in the first game, in which clearing out areas to run around freely and focus on puzzling is easier. Tormented Souls 2 tries to keep you on your toes by repopulating areas with monsters more frequently, but if you ever get stuck on a puzzle, it’s still not uncommon to find yourself looping through empty corridors and rooms looking for a key or clue you missed.

    Some might find that design unsatisfying but, returning to the title of this piece, the Tormented Souls games are for those who like a spot of survival-horror in their puzzle games. If you look past the dubious titillation from the opening scene of the first game, Dual Effect has consistently created environments that are mix of beautifully detailed and terrifying, thick with an atmosphere of dread, elevated by creepy ambience and music, and packed with challenging puzzles to solve.

    If solving weird, twisted, and sometimes illogical puzzles are why you love classics survival-horror games, don’t pass over the Tormented Souls games because of their indie status and budget-pricing.

    Tormented Souls 1 and 2 were reviewed on Xbox Series S|X. A code for Tormented Souls 2 was provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC and PS5.

  • Editorial: Yooka-Re-Playlee is solid remastering effort that can’t mask old flaws.

    Editorial: Yooka-Re-Playlee is solid remastering effort that can’t mask old flaws.

    It has been a while since I’ve seen a remaster with a title quite as awful as Yooka-Re-Playlee, but it feels appropriate for a game that was developed as a shameless nostalgia-driven mash-up of classic 3D platformers. This remastered edition offers a spruced up and definitive version of the 2017 original; a genre I’ve found myself returning to more often in a post-Astro Bot world.

    The biggest problem with Yooka-Laylee however, in both its original and remastered form, is that making fun of classic designs without ever subverting them can only take you so far. That is not to say Yooka-Re-Playlee is a bad game – it simply struggles to stand out in a crowded genre. An even bigger problem when so many of classics that inspired it are still accessible through remasters, backwards-compatibility, or emulation.

    With a handful of quality-of-life additions and an admittedly impressive visual overhaul, Yooka-Re-Playlee offers up a competent but predictable 3D platformer. It intersperses brief storytelling scenes – which are still unvoiced – with extensive collectible hunts within small but dense game worlds.

    In classic fashion, once you collect enough MacGuffins (PAGIES!), you unlock another game world to explore from within an evolving hub (and you might receive a snippet of storytelling for your efforts). You repeat the process through five worlds before tackling an end boss to roll the credits. It is a formula that goes back to Super Mario 64 and can offer methodical fun if the pacing is good.

    At first, Yooka-Re-Playlee nails the pacing by ensuring the hub and each world you explore feel visually distinct and are packed with diverse platforming challenges and dozens of mini-games. The variety is essential as despite the remaster granting you the full move-set from the start, the combat is mostly one-note and rarely asks more of you than spamming a spin-attack and jumping to avoid damage.

    You have classic 3D platforming that can shift into 2D-gauntlets or isometric sections that will test your depth perception and timing. Bosses are all about pattern recognition and skilful movement as you bide your time until they’re vulnerable to damage. With an updated camera and controls, the basics feel slick, responsive, and satisfying if you’re after a traditional experience.

    The problem is that progression boils down to collecting “pagies” (PAGIES!) that are scattered from a magical book during the introduction. Rather than just a handful of essential pagies (PAGIES!) to find in each world, the developers have included hundreds of them. Far more than you need to reach the final boss and sometimes split into fragments or alternate forms for good measure.

    Starting with the good, they clearly realised variety would be essential between the platforming challenges, so there are dozens of mini-game variants. There are time-trials and races – on foot, underwater, or in the air; puzzles based on elements, patterns, and symbol-recognition; minecart rides; arena battles; target practice; a transformation gimmick in each world with associated mini-games; and even an entire series of arcade games you can tackle within the game.

    That is not even an exhaustive list though it is worth noting many of these challenges have been tweaked for the remaster to ensure they control better.

    In addition to the endless stream of pagies they provide – as often as every 30 seconds if you’re on a roll – you have two currencies: one for passive upgrades and another for cosmetics and tonics. The tonics are the most worthwhile addition, as you can equip them to make the game easier, harder, or just weirder. It all sounds great but there are problems.

    I’ll start with the plot, which is threadbare, and the characters that are an acquired taste. Yooka the chameleon and Laylee the bat form a great duo where gameplay is concerned, but their clashing personalities feel forced in dialogue. The video game-centric jokes and “quirky” NPCs (with some official cameos) are neither funny nor particularly smart, outside of a handful of interactions that made me chuckle. The lack of voice work is a big issue as button-mashing throughs lines of text mean there is no control over the delivery or timing of lines.

    The bigger problem is that each new world you unlock shares the same assortment of mini-games. That diversity is great during the opening hour or two, but even with changes to streamline the experience, you’ll be going through the same motions for another 6-7 hours. Despite plenty of quips about video game tropes and greedy corporations, Yooka-Re-Playlee never plays off those observations in a meaningful way.

    It’s a game that wears its N64-era inspirations on its sleeves – with shared mechanics and in-game references to Super Mario 64, Donkey Kong, and, of course, the buddy-duo Banjo-Kazooie – coupled with plenty of modern cameos or references. If you’re a fan of those classics, or even if you’ve played any other recent 3D platformers (indie or AAA), little will surprise you.

    All that said, the new tonic upgrades and low level of challenge could make Yooka-Re-Playlee a decent introduction to the 3D platformer genre for new or younger players. The improved visuals, camera, and controls are significant updates, while features like the unlocked move-set, detailed map, and fast-travel points make the endless hunt for Pagies (PAGIES!) more bearable. However, it’s harder to recommend Yooka-Re-Playlee to all but the most die-hard 3D platformer fans when better options are available.

    This article originally appeared on nexushub.

    Yooka-Re -Playlee was reviewed on PS5 using a code provided by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox Series S|X, and Nintendo Switch 1/2.

  • Retrospective Review: Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War – Definitive Edition

    Retrospective Review: Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War – Definitive Edition

    If 1995’s Command & Conquer built upon early real-time strategy attempts to perfect the foundations of the genre, so too did 2004’s Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War for the nascent squad-based RTS genre. Strategy games in which your ability to micromanage fewer squads and control territory is often more important than fortifying bases, tech-ing up, and overwhelming your opponent with a mass of units (which is not to say that can’t be done). Losing territory could swiftly strip you of resources and access to high-tier units, while losing entire squads and powerful leader units could turn the tide against you as you scramble to reinforce from scratch. Two decades on, even with real-time strategy reduced to a more niche market, the legacy of Relic’s Dawn of War is still visible in game design.

    Returning to it by way of the Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War – Definitive Edition, I forgot how much it feels like a game of two halves – each half catering to a very different audience. If you share my fondness for fortifying every square inch of a map as you expand, upgrading every unit as far as possible, and using tactical retreats to preserve squads for a final push, the campaigns and lower difficulty AI skirmishes – either solo or coop – have you well catered for. If you prefer reactive, high-intensity, high-mobility battles to claim and hold territory, the PvP modes have you covered and, to a lesser extent, the Dark Crusade and Soulstorm campaigns on higher AI difficulties.

    If this remaster is your introduction to Dawn of War, it is one of those “easy to grasp, hard to master” games. The original campaign and Winter Assault expansion serve as lengthy, glorified tutorials that introduce basic mechanics and strategies, while providing all the narrative context and world-building you could ask for. You might think Space Marines killing aliens and demons in the God Emperor’s name has limited potential, but the Dawn of War campaign gets right what so many modern Warhammer 40,000 games gets wrong: the cast show some self-awareness of the absurd universe they inhabit, it focuses on the distinctly human flaws under a Space Marine’s superhuman physiology, and that humanity makes it easy to root for the protagonists. The Winter Assault campaigns lean more into the absurdity and hypocrisy of the universe, whereas the Dark Crusade and Soulstorm expansions only offer narrated flavour text to link together skirmishes.

    Of course, the minute-to-minute gameplay is the draw of any RTS, and the Dawn of War – Definitive Edition offers up everything from exhilarating chaos to plodding grind, with no shortage of frustration that’ll have you cursing unit pathfinding and their lack of self-preservation. Befitting the squad-based focus, base-building is relatively simple with three resources to manage – requisition, power, whether you control a holy relic or not – and there are typically three tiers of global upgrades. Controlling units is standard RTS fare but in addition to global upgrades, you can personalise squad weapon loadouts; attach support units, define movement and engagement rules; use light and heavy cover to enhance infantry effectiveness; and exploit morale damage, negative cover, high ground, and line-of-sight to give your forces the edge.

    Irrespective of which of the nine factions you play as through the campaigns, skirmishes, or PvP modes, the basics are the same – even if the base-building and upgrade pathways may differ slightly. Control points need to be captured and fortified to generate requisition; generators or scattered plasma sources provide power; and rare holy relics must be captured and held to produce the most powerful units. Capturing points quickly requires spreading your infantry across the map; construction requires shepherding your weak builder units around; your defensive options are limited to one or two turret variants; and turtling is useless outside of scripted campaign missions that limit what enemy forces you face. There are units that can serve as base defence, but entrenched units and turrets are easily outranged. At best, defences can stall an enemy force while you move your army to intercept.

    In PvP matches, AI skirmishes, and much of the Dark Crusade and Soulstorm expansions – which offer turn-by-turn conquest maps to dominate – battles take place across broadly symmetrical maps and play out as dynamic cycles of attack and retreat, favouring those who can juggle expansion and micromanaging their army. Capturing and defending control points is beneficial (and essential for some victory conditions), but your limited defensive options mean a combined army can always steamroll a primary base if not intercepted. It makes for a stressful but thrilling back-and-forth. Even a player that has dominated territory could suddenly lose their key unit producing buildings or holy relic and find themselves with an abundance of resources they can spend on only basic squads.

    In contrast, the original campaign and the Winter Assault expansion are for those who prefer a scripted and more predictable experience. There are a few exceptions that impose time limits, but most missions allow you to slowly spread across a handcrafted map towards your objective. The methodical pacing and lower stakes might frustrate some, as even on the higher campaign difficulties the AI plays by the same rules. They may get free reinforcements at times, but as you claim control points and fortify chokepoints, they lose their ability to counterattack, and your growing force will inevitably steamroll the objective. There’s something about this predictable formula that I always enjoy, but after completing the original campaign and the Winter Assault expansion, I could understand why they wanted to change up the formula with Dark Crusade and Soulstorm.

    I’ve got this far without discussing the remastered elements of the Definitive Edition as it does a great job of presenting the game as you mis-remember it. Having a combined launcher, fully customisable controls, a pulled back camera, and proper widescreen support that doesn’t stretch HUD elements are simple but significant improvements. There are apparently pathfinding tweaks but these did little to alleviate the frustration of units shuffling around one anther instead of engaging enemies. There’s no hiding the limited geometric complexity, but the remastered 4K textures are a notable improvement that serve both the gameplay and rudimentary in-game cinematics well. It also ran at a mostly consistent 1440/60 at max settings on my 5-year-old gaming laptop with an underpowered i7 CPU and 8GB RTX3070 mobile GPU.

    Ultimately, I think the Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War – Definitive Edition is a solid remaster – even if it’s not a particularly ambitious one. The core gameplay is still strong, even if the campaigns and PvP components can feel a world apart in how they play. Whether you’ve enjoyed structured RTS campaigns or chaotic PvP. there’s something for everyone. It should satisfy returning players looking for a nostalgia hit, and any fan of modern RTS games with a focus on managing fewer, more specialised units. If you’re someone that has spent last decade or two playing and modding the original, you might find the remastering effort too limited to justify the price – but there is the prospect of a revived and more robust multiplayer scene.

    Warhammer 40,000: Dawn of War – Definitive Edition was reviewed on PC using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher.

  • Editorial: Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition is another awkward console port that I’m still glad exists

    Editorial: Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition is another awkward console port that I’m still glad exists

    Like the Beamdog “enhanced” ports before it, Aspyr’s Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition feels aimed at one of two audiences. The first are nostalgic gamers looking to relive their cherished memories, albeit at the potential cost of ruining them. The second group are likely younger gamers curious about the evolution of CRPGs, from the Infinity Engine classics – with their great writing, gorgeous 2D backdrops, and sprite work – into fully 3D worlds with more voice work, detailed character models, and flashy combat animations that felt increasingly at odds with dice-roll outcomes.

    Tellingly, Neverwinter Nights 2 was the only CRPG in the current enhanced roster that I never finished at launch (and that’s including Aspyr’s Switch-exclusive “remasters” of Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic 1 & 2), and it took me a while to gather my thoughts. Regardless of my opinion, I want to start by praising the preservation value of these enhanced ports – especially on modern consoles, where backward-compatible libraries are becoming as important a feature as on PC. JRPGs emerged on the early consoles and have been extensively ported, remastered, or remade, whereas western-developed CRPGs only gained widespread popularity on consoles during the Xbox 360 and PlayStation 3 generation, after the release of real-time, action-oriented titles like The Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion and Mass Effect.

    Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition Console Controls

    An obvious issue was that CRPGs were designed exclusively for PC at first, with many featuring real-time-with-pause combat built around mouse and keyboard inputs. Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition offers updated controls and a tweaked UI, a claustrophobic over-the-shoulder camera toggle, and solid performance on all consoles (including the Nintendo Switch 1), but these changes can only achieve so much. It remains awkward to play with a gamepad, and that adds a layer of frustration atop a game with no shortage of frustrating elements. That said, the native gamepad support offers greater accessibility and handheld potential for PC players.

    As for the game itself, Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition is a slow-burn RPG – even when compared to its sluggish 2002 predecessor that offered an official campaign and expansions that could feel like custom modules built on a budget with limited assets, rather than an epic, hand-crafted campaigns (though, to be fair, the Infinity Engine games also padded out their worlds with repeating outdoor tile-sets and copy-paste interiors, but I found the unique locations and set-pieces more memorable than in the later 3D games).

    For the 2006 sequel, Obsidian used the Electron Toolset – an evolution of the Aurora Toolset – to create a more diverse RPG, but still one clearly built from an asset library. It reintroduced a world map; ditched the formulaic hub-with-four-adjacent-regions design; restored full party management mechanics; and massively improved companion interactions with the player, NPCs, and each other. Unfortunately, at least where the main quests are concerned, the role-playing complexity and player freedom feels limited compared to the Infinity Engine titles. I appreciated the frequent cuts to what the villains are up to in the background, but the overarching quest is linear, significant choices feel artificially binary, and it retreads many familiar themes between a handful of memorable twists.

    Throughout the lengthy prologue and your formative hours in and around the titular city of Neverwinter, you’ll tick off a checklist of CRPG tropes. You’re the adopted child of a former-adventurer father who won’t talk about a past battle and the fate of your mother; the opening village fare has you and your tutorial companions participate in tests of melee, ranged, and magical skill before tragedy inevitably strikes; the opening hours before reaching the city of Neverwinter are a microcosm of mid- to late-game scenarios; and every conflict you can resolve without violence – through a mix of logical replies or attribute-checks – represents a potential ally against an overarching threat later.

    There are a dozen companions – some you can romance – that cover an eclectic mix of archetypes. They have their own questlines and character growth that the player can influence – all of which pays off during the final battle. Examples include an angsty rogue looking for guidance; a brawling dwarf with a curious moral code and desire to become a monk; an aloof Elven druid who finds herself dependent on others in civilised lands she’d rather avoid; an overconfident, trash-talking sorceress that trouble follows; and an unhinged Gnomish bard with a fondness for lengthy conversations. Unlike the first Neverwinter Nights, they all play a more active role outside of their personal quests. They can calm or antagonise NPCs and will often debate with the player or among themselves when you’re trying to resolve a quest.

    That constant party interaction and frequent dialogue choices are highlights as the gameplay is, at least well into the second act, poorly paced and unbalanced. The frequency of levelling drops off quickly and too much time is spent simply running back and forth between quest givers. You’ll need to stop to loot, purchase, compare, and equip gear to stay ahead of the escalating and uneven difficulty curve, and it’s essential for players using a gamepad to frequently update the hot-bar, set up AI behaviours, and memorise the best buff and de-buff spells for auto-casting. Without a “story mode” difficulty, sudden spikes – such as early battles against mobs of backstabbing rogues – can kill pacing when most quests involve combat.

    If modern turn-based or action-RPGs are about incremental progress – the thrill of watching numbers go up – Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition is a reminder that most early CRPGs were about exceeding thresholds. Your attributes and gear modify dice rolls that influence total damage output and defence, sure, but only if you exceed thresholds. If you’re not fielding a mixed party, constantly using skills and magic, and resting between every battle to recharge them, you’ll spend an inordinate amount of time watching your party do little as they fail to exceed an enemy’s armour class, spell or damage resistance, and saving throws. There’s no denying the D&D 3.5 ruleset provided a lot of flexibility for character builds and party synergies, but those here for the story, character, and interactions will find it ends up dominating the experience.

    Going back to this type of RPG in 2025 is jarring, even as someone who played them throughout the late ‘90s and early 2000s. Despite the semi-linear progression – with new areas and quests opening up as the plot demands – the difficulty curve feels erratic. You can go from steamrolling a mage before they get a spell off, to watching your entire party wiped by a single bandit in plate armour, which forces you to be incredibly cautious and save-scum by default. It’s far from ideal, but if you are just after a taste of the Neverwinter Nights 2 experience, jumping into the standalone Storm of Zehir and Mysteries of Westgate expansions might be the better choice.

    Despite ending on a negative note – which feels weird having readily sunk another 30 hours into it before writing this up – I am glad it exists, if only to preserve another RPG from a time when player choice, frequent attribute checks, and variable quest outcomes were the focus; not production values and hours of self-indulgent cutscenes that run on so long they trigger my console’s power-saving screen-dimming feature. Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition reminded me that the original marked the end of an era for CRPGs, soon to be replaced by more hands-on, gamepad-friendly, action-RPGs that would go on to permeate every other genre.

    Neverwinter Nights 2: Enhanced Edition was played on Xbox Series S|X using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox One, PS4/5, and Nintendo Switch 1/2.

  • Editorial: My Friendly Neighborhood left me convinced cosy-horror is the way to grow the genre (Xbox Series)

    Editorial: My Friendly Neighborhood left me convinced cosy-horror is the way to grow the genre (Xbox Series)

    It has taken two years for My Friendly Neighborhood to arrive on consoles, but it still deserves a top spot on the short list of survival-horror games that go beyond simple body-horror monstrosities and laboratory experiments gone wrong. There is no shortage of tension and a few jump scares to be had, but it also demonstrates a surprising amount of charm and heart that you find in rare cosy-horror titles like Crow Country or Sorry We’re Closed.

    Terror and heart in equal measure

    The cartoonish aesthetics, the focus on a failed children’s puppet show, and the post-war-not-quite-USA setting make for a weird and unsettling experience that plays on established horror tropes while weaving in real-world societal problems. The result is a game that you could breeze through and appreciate the mechanics, while paying little attention to the plot and cast. However, if you read all the lore documents, listen to the puppets’ rambling, and spend some time solving puzzles and backtracking to help the puppets that originally stalk you, it makes the narrative so much more rewarding.

    A big part of the charm is how the protagonist Gordon is portrayed – equal parts brooding, determined, and unexpectedly compassionate – and the quality of the voice work and animations for the puppets you’ll encounter. Aside from Ricky, a sock puppet that aids and taunts Gordon in equal measure, you’ll encounter named puppets that serve as common enemy types, while each location is home to a boss-style puppet that stalks you through certain areas. All the puppets are unhinged and violent, reflecting the slow decline of their show, the character flaws of their former puppeteers, and the decline of society as a whole.

    Gordon’s attempt to shut down the broadcasting antenna goes awry, and he ends up on a journey that takes him through each part of the production studio and back again. Initial terror and confusion give way to dogged determination as he uncovers past events, discovers more about the puppets and the events that led to their growing insanity, and even gets the opportunity to bring peace to its inhabitants while revealing more of his past to the player. It has been a long time since I’ve played a survival-horror game where the narrative and cast have been as much of a draw as the gameplay mechanics – especially one with something to say about how entertainment both influences and is influenced by reality.

    Old-school survival-horror gameplay refined

    Talking of gameplay mechanics, My Friendly Neighborhood is one of those derivative games that show reverence to the source material, but also understand what elements stand the test of time and what anachronistic elements need tweaking or discarding. It keeps the classic haunted mansion design that you explore room by room, searching for keys, puzzle items, and clues to bypass contrived locks or obstacles. In your path are hordes of deranged puppets that can only be subdued permanently with limited duct tape, so you need to manage your routing and resources carefully.

    Despite the first-person perspective, it’s no action game like we’ve come to expect from the modern Resident Evils. Movement, combat, and progression feel far closer in design and pacing to classic survival horror games – right down to the ability to exit rooms to lose pursuers and reset their position. On lower difficulties you have enough resources to be reckless, but My Friendly Neighborhood clearly wants you to manage your inventory and storage box, only attack or subdue enemies you can’t avoid, check the map to plan a path or identify locked rooms with remaining items, and manually save between bouts of progress using limited tokens. It is classic and methodical in the best possible way.

    The combat feels good thanks to great audiovisual feedback from an alphabet-powered rolodex-spewing pistol, rolled up notes used as shells and blasted from a shotgun, and room-clearing grenades with letter shrapnel. That said, the focus is on picking the right tool for the situation and conserving supplies when you can – especially on higher difficulties. As you get a feel for the map layout and identify rooms you’ll return to later, combat becomes more about optimisation than skill, and there’s also incentive to help the boss-type puppets so you can explore with less risk later.

    To do that though, you will tackle increasingly elaborate, nonsensical, but entertaining puzzles. These range from simple key hunts to multi-step memory, logic, and sequence-based puzzles, but a modern map highlights specific key doors and rooms with items, so you’ll never end up aimlessly wandering the compact but dense studio grounds. There is a particularly tough puzzle to unlock a secret area and ultimate weapon – which had me taking notes and screenshots – but finding the items needed to save all the puppets and unlock the “best” ending will come naturally to those who systematically explore.

    Cosy-horror could be the way to keep growing the survival-horror audience

    If you’ve enjoyed the resurgence of survival-horror in both the “AAA” and indie space, My Friendly Neighborhood is easy to recommend – particularly for fans of the emerging cosy-horror trend. It’s only 5-6 hours long and that might put off once-and-done players, but like the classic games that inspired it, you can cruise through it a second time to unlock a different ending and ranking; hunt for secret tapes that enable useful or goofy abilities; mess around with the Speedrun and “Neighborhorde” modes; or just crank up the difficulty and shift the experience closer to true horror.

    My Friendly Neighborhood was played on Xbox Series S|X using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox One, and PS4/5.

  • Editorial: Sea of Stars is a 16-bit RPG for those after the nostalgia without the reality (Nintendo Switch)

    Editorial: Sea of Stars is a 16-bit RPG for those after the nostalgia without the reality (Nintendo Switch)

    With Baldur’s Gate on PC and Final Fantasy VII on the PS1 as my formative RPG experiences, I’ve never had a strong affinity for 8- or 16-bit-era JRPGs. With that said, having sunk only a handful of hours into each the earlier Final Fantasy games, Secret of Mana, and Chrono Trigger, the retro-inspired Sea of Stars from Sabotage Studio still felt authentic to me in all the “right” ways. It recreates the look, sound, and storytelling techniques of that classic era, but modernises the gameplay to ditch the more tedious elements of the genre.

    With the inspirations for many character archetypes and narrative themes so obvious, one criticism I could level at Sea of Stars is that it rarely surprised me outside of a handful of plot twists. To its credit, that never bothered me as much as I thought it would. It felt comfortingly familiar, with a gameplay loop and predictable rhythm that moved quickly enough to keep me engaged. Brisk, concise dialogue and streamlined, puzzle-centric dungeons ensure the game has a constant sense of forward momentum (at least up to the point you decide to tackle the end-game tasks to trigger the “true ending”).

    Familiar JRPG tropes include an altruistic and stoic pair of protagonists with predetermined destinies, their stalwart and enthusiastic friend who demonstrates magical powers alone can’t save the world, and an assortment of allies that range from jovial pirates to ancient alchemists and their creations. There’s lingering evil that still plagues the world; a powerful mentor destined to be revealed as flawed; a shocking betrayal to raise questions about the prophecy; a resurgent evil that descends from the moon; and even the concept of multiverses for good measure. And that’s all revealed within the first third of the game, maybe 10ish hours’ worth, which felt gloriously brisk in contrast to the bloat that infects modern JRPGs.

    The world design and basic gameplay loop also lean heavily into some classic designs. You have diverse but illogically compact worlds to explore – by foot, ship, or through the air – presented as a stylised overworld map connecting settlements and dungeons. Story dungeon progression is controlled by access to traversal or puzzle abilities – think manipulating time-of-day, a grappling hook, or water-breathing – with hidden chests tucked away in previous locations becoming accessible too. Every dungeon has two or three doors that, in turn, require two or three keys or switches to open. Each dungeon also has a handful of combat encounters and a boss to defeat at the end.

    You could apply those descriptions to any number of 8- or 16-bit era JRPGs, but Sea of Stars uses modern flourishes and increased combat depth to create a game that feels more action-oriented and respectful of your time. Exploring puzzle-dungeons is a JRPG tradition, but Sea of Stars features more vertical locations with fantastic jumping and climbing animations, while abilities like the wind burst and grapple are manually activated, making the simple act of pushing around blocks or leaping gaps feels more hands-on. You’re still railroaded down restrictive paths towards puzzle objects or battles, but exploration and traversal look and feel more exciting.

    Similarly, the turn-based combat has plenty of complexity but also rewards timing-based actions to increase damage output or block a chunk of incoming damage. Visible turn markers and a menu-driven system for basic attacks, skills, and items are accounted for, but Sea of Stars favours fewer, more involved battles over grinding basic mobs to stay ahead of an escalating difficulty curve. As an example, basic attacks become progressively less useful for dealing damage, but they restore mana and release “live mana” that your party can absorb to charge attacks with elemental damage or enhance offensive and defensive skills – both essential for damaging tougher foes with physical and magical resistances or recovering the parties’ health and mana quickly.

    Another interesting addition is the “spell lock” mechanic – an initially hidden grid of symbols representing damage types that appear above a foe preparing a spell. Using character skills or combos that involve two party members, breaking these spell locks within the turn limit becomes essential to disrupting powerful attacks that often damage the entire party. It might sound complicated and intimidating, but Sea of Stars is still accessible. Powerful secret gear you miss in one area can often be bought from storekeepers later, while the levelling system gives you a bit of control by picking one attribute to boost more than others at each level-up. Lastly, you can find, buy, and enable relics that function as assists – think bonus health, boosted experience gain, or the ability to instantly see spell lock combination – but also offer options to increase the combat difficulty.

    The last point to touch on is the incredible presentation that plays on nostalgia as effectively as Square Enix’s HD-2D remakes. At first glance, you might pass off static screenshots as Chrono Trigger, but Sea of Stars looks stunning in motion (especially on a Nintendo Switch OLED screen). The isometric style and parallax backgrounds provide depth; looping animations for water, plants, and animals give the impression of life; weather and other atmospheric effects look great; and the time-of-day mechanic coupled with dynamic lighting and simulated reflections set the mood. Character sprites, animations, and spell effects during battles and in-game cutscenes are less impressive, but the animated cutscenes used for key story beats look great while still feeling authentic to the era its emulating. The music also deserves praise, with short but catchy tracks for each location and cutscene that further enhance the mood.

    To wrap up, Sea of Stars is a smart nostalgia-driven JRPG for an audience that no longer has the time they once had for the genre. Complex modern systems and assists are obscured by a veneer of nostalgia-inducing presentation, providing an experience that feels like a late 16-bit era JRPG – just without the grind those games often require. It’s not always perfect and that predictable rhythm – find settlement, get quest, clear dungeon, repeat – can grow tiring towards the end, but it still offers better pacing and variety than most of its inspirations. On one hand, Sea of Stars is exactly what I want from nostalgia-driven throwbacks; on the other, it was a wearying reminder that I’ve been playing video games for far too long.

    Sea of Stars was played on Nintendo Switch using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox One/Series S|X, PS4/5, and Nintendo Switch 2.

  • Retrospective: Citizen Sleeper (2023) is all about building a new life, one cycle at a time

    Retrospective: Citizen Sleeper (2023) is all about building a new life, one cycle at a time

    With so many games and so little time, Citizen Sleeper was yet another indie release that caught my eye before being swamped by tsunami of gaming news promoting the next best thing. Thankfully, returning to it three years late is easy, with the minimalist but stylish visuals, slick interface, and evocative soundtrack effectively timeless. And I’m glad I did return, as there is something comfortingly familiar yet fresh about the hybrid structure that blends a choice-driven visual novel with a dice-driven, tabletop-style RPG. It’s also uplifting as hell, despite the often-bleak setting and scenarios you’ll face, and had me wondering if my life was also just a string of choices and more RNG than I care for?

    It’s worth noting up front that you need to be comfortable with a lot of reading if you’re going to gel with Citizen Sleeper. There is no voice work and often paragraph after paragraph of text to work through. From the opening sequence that introduces you to your synthetic “Sleeper” body with a transferred consciousness, through to the heartfelt culmination of relationship-building quest-lines, and the handful of potential endings, Citizen Sleeper conveys everything through excellent writing, lightly animated character portraits, and the accompanying soundtrack. I found it an impressively thought-provoking experience that generated stronger emotions than the glut of cinematic “AAA” games I’ve played over the last decade – many of which featured professional voice work and lavish motion capture.

    It’s possible you will recognise many of the sci-fi tropes the world of Citizen Sleeper is built upon, but the setting remains a strong hook throughout as the game doesn’t rush to explain everything up front. Instead, each character has a link to major players in the Citizen Sleeper universe, and through interacting with them you’ll come to understand the past and present of the world you now inhabit. What’s clear from the get-go is that “The Eye”, a decaying ring station in the Helion system, on the edge of the Core region, is home to human, augmented, and synthetic workers – some bound by company contracts or gang debts – all trying to get by providing essential services or engaging in dangerous space-faring work, like terraforming, resource extraction, and salvaging.

    A corporate collapse a generation before resulted in the emergence of several factions: a workers union that evolved into a corporation with a structure it once despised; a gang straddling the line between governing body and criminality; a commune trying to make The Eye self-sufficient through novel food production methods; a charitable organisation driving new colonisation efforts; and a curious assortment of forgotten AI constructs. It is into this diverse and fragile fringe society that your Sleeper finds themselves, with no friends, no stable work, and no access to the stabiliser drugs essential for maintaining their synthetic bodies.

    To survive, you’ll need to explore, find work opportunities, forge new friendships, and decide what purpose your new life serves on the edge of the inhabited universe. You do that by way an abstract and menu-driven system that is mechanically simple and intuitive yet, thanks to the incredible writing and characterisation, still engaging and frequently tense. If you strip away the narrative layer, Citizen Sleeper is a combination of timers, meters, dice rolls modified by a simple skill tree, and player choices that shape future interactions. It sounds incredibly dry, but like a table-top RPG led by an experienced GM, simple actions can be thrilling with the right narrative framing and high stakes.

    Each cycle, you awake hungry and watch the condition of your synthetic body deteriorate. Each cycle, you’re dealt five or less dice that dictate your chances of successfully completing a job to earn currency to buy food or stabiliser drugs; values that influence your chances of mastering a social interaction that could improve your local reputation; or the exact values required to hack systems within The Eye’s vast and collapsing information network.

    Every time the story imposes a cycle limit before events transpire or limits the number of times you can bungle a task, a segmented ring slowly fills up with abstract but terrifying red markers. Combined with the ever-present hunger and condition meters, they serve as a constant reminder you are living on the edge, and every decision is meaningful.

    The gameplay mechanics can generate tension well enough, but what makes Citizen Sleeper special is how almost every interaction, be that player choice or dice roll, is linked to a specific faction or character. Through repetition, you’ll come to know them all, and through constant engagement, you’ll dig deeper into their lives. You’ll unlock new interactions with a cast of troubled but often hopeful citizens and slowly establish yourself on The Eye. You’ll soon realise Citizen Sleeper has few fail states beyond locking you out of some endings, but thanks to great writing and multiple quest outcomes, it’s incredibly satisfying to define your character through their choices and interactions with others – regardless of whether you choose to settle on The Eye or find a way to move on.

    Wrapping up, Citizen Sleeper is any easy addition to an ever-growing list of iconic indie games that demonstrate how much you can achieve with very little. It’s like a well-written choose-your-own-adventure novel, in which triggering the next turn of the page means engaging in some simple but satisfying table-top-style dice rolls that can sometimes work for or against you. Citizen Sleeper also remains a timely reminder that if you are looking for a place in a community, you should be looking for a collective of individuals that share your values and struggles, not some monolithic organisation – be that corporate, political, or religious – with the expectation of your adherence to some ideological dogma that those in charge rarely follow themselves.

    Citizen Sleeper was played on Xbox Series S|X using a code provided to gameblur by the publisher. It is also available on PC, Xbox One, PS4/5, and Nintendo Switch.