Been a really long time but I finally finished it - and I'm glad I took my time. Kamurocho and Sotenobori grabbed me immediately with their mesmerizingly rich detail and cinematography recreating an era that a lot of Japanese still look back on wsitfully - its practically virtual tourism, I could just walk for hours. 4 years later, I've visited both those places (Kabukicho and Dotonbori) and its truly incredible how similar they are - well except for the incredibly crowded Starbucks everywhere. This is how you do an open world. Just like Discol Elysium, only two maps for a small area of a city, yet its bigger and more immersive than any ubisoft game could ever be. The game itself was fantastic, truly something for everybody,. And best of all it used the world so well, so many characters, items, and interconnected minigames that take you to every nook and cranny. And I loved seeing Yakuza film veterans like Riki Takeuchi, Hitoshi Ozawa and Shingo Tsurumi (not the first time they've acted together! That was in Takashi Miike's DOA) and of course, Yakuza film royalty Tetsuya Watari (Tokyo Drifter, Yakuza Graveyard). Probably as close as you'll get to playing Battles Without Honor and Humanity on your PC.

i’ve always been scared of big empty areas. they’re always a little unnerving, and i find my mind often filling up the empty unknown with all sorts of awful things.

nier automata builds this atmosphere of sheer peace and tranquility. throughout the game you’re met with tragedy and drama through every new area you visit, but while you run around the soft, empty fields and buildings and absorb the beautiful music you can’t help but look around and think that maybe things would be okay. maybe if the world were to halt for the rest of time.. it’d be okay. the grass feels almost angelic to look at, and the buildings feel soft and serene. the roots of overgrown trees line the buildings to the point where you can scale up and down to your heart’s content.
idk i have more to say but i forgot

Somewhere in a wheat field, a boy hugs his mother

I guess that one of the biggest compliments that I can give OneShot right of the bat is that it has seriously made me revaluate my opinions in other games that attempt to hit the same notes and have the same impact, so yeah, funnily enough, in a way it made me see the light.

OneShot isn't scared of showing what it is, from the moment Niko wakes up in that dark and dusty room, it lets you know in what kind of voyage you have set yourself and the child you control into, and from there it only becomes more and more magical.

While I wasn't aware of the specifics, I knew that this game would break the fourth wall in different ways, but whereas others use this narrative tool as a way to inject themselves into reality, creating a small sense of unease or even mock you as a player, this world literally calls you a god, everyone knows that you are in some king of outer plane, while only a few understanding fully the gravity of situation.

Puzzles will require you to break the bounds, both to think outside the box and to see beyond the window that encapsulates this broken land; this sadly leads to some parts of it being a little bit more confusing than they should: you may be unsure to what to do next or where to look, how to properly interact to some things or even find certain rooms and objects… but in a way that also helps the overall experience. You arrive the same way as Niko does: not knowing a fuck about this place, its people and its rules; you may have more power than anybody, but that doesn’t stop you from being confused. It’s through that confusion that you and Niko connect: you see his fears, his illusion, his confusion and his wonder, and alongside him you learn of these places, of this characters, and it’s all so… lovable. I believe that it’s genuinely impossible to hate this not cat person and the curious inhabitants of the different places you both come across, it’s impossible to not feel care towards all this poor people, trying to live their lives the best that they can, as well as to care for Niko, to feel the sadness of the fact that is he whom must bear such burden.

Grief, loss, hopelessness, defeat and inevitability are words that came throughout the little voyage and ones that I go back to define the experience as a whole; it’s an extremely sad game, and it never gives you clear answer of what might come next… but it also has this… comfort, I think it’s the best word. The interactions, locations and especially the fantastic soundtrack fill me with this feeling of nostalgia for a time I never got to live, for a place I never got to see on its prime; Niko also feels this nostalgia, and even though this pilgrimage may be scary for him at times, it also makes him smile, and it makes you smile and feel wonder too.

You both push forward, defying the improbable and answering the unanswerable.

Here, at the top of the tower, after the truth has been told and machine and author and powerless to do anything, a final decision remains.

And it’s hard, man.

Fuck FromSoftware and its games, this is the true most challenging part of any game, it will even make your eyes sweat- NO I’M NOT CRIYING YOU ARE CRIYING!

OneShot’s first run Is only comparable to the best experiences I’ve had in the entire medium, and it made me feel and care in a way I really thought it couldn’t. It’s a tale of victories and defeats, of unresolved finales and sweet conclusions, and one that will end in one way, but it’s up to you which it’ll be…

…But what if it hadn’t to be like that?

You even defy the core objective of the program, and what is left is one last pilgrimage to the tower, this time it will be different. I will be scarier. But it’s a risk worth taking. There may be hope for all. Or maybe there won’t.

I really don’t want to go into much detail about the ‘’Solstice’’ ending (nor the game as a whole) ‘cause I really think it’s worth experiencing it. I understand those how of it as redundant or that it detracted from the original experience, I myself thought it was counter-intuitive to do something like that in such a game… but once again, it surprised. It still retains what makes OneShot special, and more importantly, it expands on certain themes left in the air, themes world exploring. Themes about the living and the machine. How the line between the two is not as defined as we think… and how something ‘’fake’’ can be so, so real.

One Shot isn’t perfect, and I understand how some could see more flaws in it than I did, but… It ended being so special at so many levels I couldn’t even begin to re-tell it. It knows what is, but it’s also so much more, more than anyone could have ever thought it could ever be. It’s a bittersweet tale, one you may think is better off with a bittersweet ending, and you may be right…

But a happy ending is warranted, always…

Especially if it makes us smile.

No matter where we come from we’re all headed to the same place.

The eternal oblivion is an inevitability every human must grapple with, the concept of death is terrifying and for much of our lives we will spend many years pondering the idea and coming to terms with the inevitability of such a fate. It’s our choice whether or not we will waste those moments or if we will face down death and live our lives to the fullest despite our eventual fate. Cyberpunk is a game about life and death, how we grapple with our mortality and what will use our remaining time on this planet doing. Will we push away the ones we love to avoid hurting them or will we spend our final weeks making the most of that time with our loved ones?

The dilemma of the ticking death clock on V is what truly makes this game special, we’re faced with the inevitability of death and it forces the player and V to make the most of their time, there is no guarantee that V will survive and find a way out so we work under the assumption that we must make the most of our time on this Earth before we die. That limited time is what makes this game special to me, we’re forced to live life to the fullest and in spite of all of that V keeps fighting, not only for themself, but for their friends, the ones they lost, and for a better future, even if it’s a future that they won’t live to see.

Cyberpunk for all of its flaws is still a beautiful game and one I will never forget, it’s a powerful experience that will sit with me for many years to come. The bonds I formed in this game, the time I spent in Night City and the Badlands, the story I experienced, it’s all truly unforgettable.

Arguably the greatest open-world RPG I have played, it sits among greats like Morrowind, New Vegas, and Daggerfall.

“V, never stop fighting.”
-Johnny Silverhand

You writhe beneath my skin
Born of ailing flesh and love
My thoughts, consumed by your sorrow.

Waking nightmares plague me, endless
A slow rotting miracle plucked from time,
You are all that I love, everything I fear
And all the entanglement festering between

For want of fair chances,
I stared into your abyss
As I've done for many before

And in return, you tore out my heart,
Impaled my eyes with your scarlet terror
Invaded the privacy of solitude,
And plunged your iron claws into my very soul.

You interrupt my nights.
My days, occupied by you
You are inescapable, yet...

For all your malignance,
Burrowed under flesh
and boiling blood,

I refuse
to let
go

–

Signalis bores its hooks into my skull, carving grooves into my brain where my psychoses pool. There’s something to be said for its reliance on the narrative language of anime and survival horror, but whether it’s derivative or iterative is a moot point. These beats that ring familiar are sores that Signalis splits open with a sadist’s pleasure. I could sit here and rattle off references, the obvious calls that permeate the body of the work, but where does that get you? Where does that get any of us, other than a cognizant “if you know you know” stranglehold? The language of Signalis isn’t concerned with simply being “Space Resident Evil”, or “Utena by way of Evangelion”. Much like the doomed Penrose, the referential nature of Signalis is, in itself, a repetitious time loop. It is not a work of references, it is its references.

I bolt awake, and Signalis presses on the nerve center that kick started my love of horror. 2008, in front of a bombed-out Gamecube, Jill Valentine tinkers though a puzzle box called the Spenser mansion. 2022, I bumblefuck through the escape room that is Sierpinski S-23.

Another restless night, another stab into my brain. 2012, my first pangs of personalized gender misanthropy at the hands of Asuka Langley Sohryu and Rei Ayanami, the brilliant shine of sapphic love reflected by Utena and Anthy. A decade later, the hate has faded and its place remains remorse for the past, regret for the now as the signature flashes of light and text flicker, as LSTR-512 and Ariane waltz in their final moments.

Again, interrupted sleep prevails. October, last year, the clattering of keys clicked out a cacophonous rhythm as I parse out a write up for Illbleed, a game that set ablaze the dying candle that was my love for gaming, for horror as a whole. Now, after a global rotation, I return to Signalis in the same spot, a love for writing, for fear, for gaming, for love itself, rekindled after a seasonal stagnation.

To try to put definitive words to Signalis seems contradictory to the way the game is delivered, indirect and symbolic in a way anathemic to thematic deduction. In it, I saw the spark of life relight my passion, and I enacted swift death to the tyrant, critical analysis. I could brandish lofty terms, of this having flawless gameplay, immersive writing, a memorable soundtrack, or any other terms I would gladly throw around about games that I will forget in a week. It’s not perfect. I don’t want it to be perfect: It’s for me. I don’t need it to be anything more than what it means to me, and what it means is that I think I love games again.

I awaken once more from broken sleep.

It’s 2014. I’m sitting with someone who, at the time, was my closest friend. We’re huddled around a laptop deep into the night, burning through works that would come to reflect what matters to me in games.

It’s tonight. I’m on call with someone I love. I’m huddled over a keyboard, burning through a write-up of a work that redefines what matters to me in games.

Play Signalis. You probably won’t get what I got out of it. That’s a good thing; it means there’s going to be something else out there that gives you the same feelings that this gave me. For now, I can push you to try a game I view as my personal perfection.

One of the few games where I can say that the gameplay is so gripping and the music is so good that I'm only continuing to play despite the story being total dogass.

Counting this as mastered because I got Ace rank on every level and don't care for any of the visual novel stuff

I feel that it's important to note that I'm currently halfway through the game with only 3 hours in, I'm expecting to beat it at 6-7 hours which leaves the VN sections taking about 10-11 hours of the game's time which really annoys me because so far it's just poorly written.
I was right i beat it at 7 hours and 20 minutes lol