There aren't many games that can pull me away from Pokemon Pokopia right now, but Collector's Cove is an exception. Maybe that shouldn't come as a surprise. With a lifelong affinity for some of the best farming games, I was immediately drawn to VoodooDuck's cozy farming centric indie, but there's actually something a little Pokemon coded about it that I wasn't expecting.

Not unlike the way you set out to fill up your Pokedex with all kinds of critters, Collector's Cove is all about adding to your Collector's Compendium. By growing and gathering new crops, catching different fish, uncovering recipes, and working towards upgrades to get your hands on more resources for crafting, everything you do helps you rise through the ranks to become the ultimate Named-Collector.

Plus, you're also setting sail to different islands and building up your very own farm on the back of a sea-faring Fablefin, who serves as your intrepid companion and boat. With a Loch Ness Monster meets dinosaur aesthetic, my marine pal – who immediately makes me think of Lapras and my days using Surf in various Pokemon iterations – gives Collector's Coves a refreshing edge in the vast sea that is the farming game genre.

Fabled finds

The first in-game days of Collector's Cove are spent learning the ropes. After making my own cute little custom character (complete with a cherry jumper I would totally wear in real-life), I get stuck right in. As someone who's said to have "an explorer's heart", I'm guided by Uncle Jerry, who, in the absence of my parents who've gone off traveling, gives me the tools I need to start my new journey as a Collector.

With all of the usual gear I've come to expect from farming sims and the like, I'm outfitted with a pickaxe, handaxe, shovel, fishing rod, and watering can, and my initial objectives revolve around gathering wood, fiber, stone, and soil on a small island out at sea.

It's all familiar territory until I meet Uncle Jerry's Fablefin. The blue sea creature known as Marty rocks a top hat with two cards nestled in its decorative band; like he should be dealing hands at the local casino. I instantly love him, and when I learn that Fable Fins like him are an integral part of being a Collector, I can hardly wait to meet my own.

I don't have to wait long. Better yet, I even get to customize and name my companion. Opting for the color purple and adorable flower-shaped spots, I choose to name her Lavender and at once appreciate her company as we set sail for the first time. Serving as your mobile home and farm at sea, my Fablefin friend also helps me navigate the seas and explore as my living boat. The vast ocean is home to various islands you can navigate to in order to gather resources, fish, and make fresh discoveries.

By selecting a location on the map, I instruct her to start swimming to it, and we're away. Of course, I'm elated to discover I can also give her a hug whenever I wish, and as she's doing a lot of hard work to move me across the seas, I can also feed her fish to keep her energy levels up as we travel. While Lavender swims, I get to work setting down some plant pots to start growing crops, and construct a water station so I can fill up my watering can.

After venturing to a few islands, doing some fishing, and successfully growing my first crops, I start to add more logs for my compendium, and in turn, rank up. Each time I catch a certain type of fish, or gather a particular crop, I learn more about it, and unlock fertilizer or bait that can be made for them, which ties to my first major objective: get a Fabled species. A little like the Guardian fish you can catch or the rare crops that can grow in Story of Seasons: Grand Bazaar, Collector's Cove has various special variants of the crops and fish.

In order to successfully get your hands on a Fabled Species, though, you need to follow set parameters. By growing a plant with its corresponding fertilizer, you can unlock the trick you need to take it into its Fabled form. The chilis I grow, for example, require me to anger a certain number of fish while it's harvestable. The Fabled variants can then be fed to Lavender to strengthen our bond and essentially upgrade her in different ways.

I love collecting things in games, so I quickly take to the whole idea of being a Collector. I also appreciate how laidback the overall experience is; I've enjoyed taking my time working towards upgrading my tools, finding new seeds to plant, and exploring islands. While it might not occupy quite the same life sim space as Pokopia, I do think Collector's Cove offers up a sweet alternative or complement to it, and if you've ever wanted to have your own Lapras-like companion to farm alongside, VoodooDuck's adventure is worth getting on board with.

Collector's Cove is out now on PC, PS5, and Switch. Explore more highlights with our Indie Spotlight series.

Just like the bond between Lana and cute cat-like critter Mui, I don't need to understand the fictional alien language of Planet of Lana 2 to form a bond with its characters. Kicking off with a recap of the mysterious connection between the history of the first game's robotic slavers and Lana's people, a new faction arrives wanting to use machines for no good, poisoning a young child with a strange malady in the process.

While the rest of Lana's settlement works to push back these invaders, Lana has a quest of her own – to use Mui's power to weave through dangerous areas filled with deadly wildlife and encroaching enemy expeditions in order to nab the ingredients for a medicine. So far I'm partway through this portion of the journey, which promises plenty more bombast to come. But I've already been loving the mix of adventurous platforming, close escapes from near-death, and most importantly, the way Lana and Mui's own skills combine to create puzzles that feel like I'm solving them through co-op even by myself. Developer Wishfully have done a fantastic job at making this sequel feel like it's brimming with life, and through the way I control it, like I'm a part of that ecosystem myself.

Planet of the cats

Truly, though, you never actually control Mui directly – though your ability to guide your inky black-furred pal is so accurate you may as well. Controlling Lana is as you'd expect for a puzzle-platformer like this – think the likes of Little Nightmares or Inside – most of her actions are on the left analogue stick or a couple of face buttons. The right stick, meanwhile, can be used at pretty much any time to hover a cursor anywhere on the screen to direct where Mui goes with a waypoint (or, the circle button can ask Mui to stay, or be held to say 'follow me'). The divide doesn't feel clunky at all, and I actually quite like that Mui feels more like a willing companion than a mere puppet for me to control.

Lana herself is pretty capable of clambering up marked walls, swinging off ropes, and making big jumps – but Mui's small size and powerful little feetsies mean that the cat can usually reach places that Lana can't. I have to think carefully about sending Mui through tunnels to perhaps loop around and create another path forward for Lana, while Lana can also interact with things Mui can't, like big levers to create different paths ahead. So far, the back and forth has been simple and easy to grasp, while really making it feel like I'm getting the pair to work together, neither taking the spotlight from the other.

With that said, Mui's power to create a strange energy field that can either de-activate machinery or, somehow, take control of other small animals is beginning to steal the show for me. I love how these additional animals create extra variety across different biomes and bring their own special powers into the fold. It means that Mui can, say, pilot an ink-spurting pufferfish to create cover for Lana to simultaneously stealth swim past deadly eels, or use tiny furball creatures to lay down a flammable, uh, webbing (I hope) to burn down obstacles so Lana can jump through.

Moments like this don't just feel collaborative between Lana and Mui, but collaborative with nature and the planet of Lana too (heh heh). It has some of the vibes of the equally eco-conscious Oddworld, whether that's the puzzle-based creature possession that was so iconic in the original PS1 duology, or indeed the slightly weighty platforming that has Lana sprinting away from strange spiky creatures to grab hold of the edge of higher platforms and pull herself up just in time. It's only missing a legion of mudokons to save.

I didn't play all that much of the first Planet of Lana, but that's been no barrier to enjoying Planet of Lana 2. In fact, I'm much preferring the additional mobility in this sequel, and am finding it's doing a better job of standing out from the puzzle-platforming crowd by leaning into its more unique features. I'll definitely be continuing this journey through to the end, even if it's just to spend more time with Mui. Planet of Lana 2 is available on PC, PS5, PS4, Xbox Series X/S, Nintendo Switch 2, and Nintendo Switch now.

For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series. Or, check out our best game stories list for more!

The first Steam Next Fest of 2026 is absolutely filled to the rafters with demos for some of the most exciting upcoming indie games. In fact, there are so many fantastic future releases included in Valve's February demo fest, that I've frankly been spoiled for choice. But as the resident wrangler of the Indie Spotlight series here at GamesRadar+, I consider it my duty – nay, my honor – to dive into the event with reckless abandon and try out some new games ahead of release.

Of course, I'm not the only one here that loves the event, and many of my fellow writers have been tucking into demos and rightly shouting about them. So, if you're looking to get stuck into some demo goodness over the weekend for some very promising new indie games, then I'm here to shine a light on the 10 best Steam Next Fest demos you absolutely need to try while they're around. From my own personal picks, to my fellow writers' favorites, now's the time to get Steam open and ready as I take you through the demos worth downloading.

10. Puppy Park

Those yearning for the return of Nintendogs are in luck. While we may still be (not so) patiently waiting for Nintendo to bark up the right tree and bring the beloved dog simulator back, we at least have Puppy Park from developer TM39 to fill the void.

With a demo now live during Steam Next Fest ahead of its expected launch in March, you have the chance to try out becoming the manager of your very own little dog hotel, complete with puppy pampering sessions, walks, and more. If one of our resident Nintendog appreciators, Anna Koselke, is sold, then fellow fans and cozy game enjoyers won't want to miss this one.

Play the demo here.

9. Windrose

Arrrrr me hearties, a new pirate game is setting sail in the future, and right now you can check out a Steam Next Fest demo before it takes to the seas. I'm talking about the upcoming open-world PvE survival adventure, Windrose, from developer Windrose Crew.

With shades of Sea of Thieves meets Assassin's Creed Black Flag, our staff writer Jordan Gerblick (who often moonlights as a pirate in the world of video games) has plenty of praise for the sizeable demo, which features Ark-like crafting, some supernatural elements, and plenty of swashbuckling action. If you want to be a pirate captain, Windrose awaits.

Play the demo here.

8. Wanderburg

GamesRadar+'s very own Austin Wood is an expert when it comes to the best roguelike games, so when he starts joyfully yelling about a new bullet hell roguelike that's hard to stop playing, I know it's well worth paying attention.

Wanderburg from developer Randwerk is, in the words of Austin, like "Vampire Survivors on wheels", and that's because you actually command a castle on said wheels that's yours to customize and upgrade. With a bite-sized sample that lets you steer across a medieval landscape, taking on opposing roaming strongholds, roguelike fans shouldn't skip this one.

Play the demo here.

7. Forbidden Solitaire

If you're a fan of horror or you're drawn to indies that dial up the retro vibes, then have I got the Steam Next Fest demo recommendation for you. Forbidden Solitaire comes from the same creators behind Home Safety Hotline, with developers who also worked on Shadowhand and Regency Solitaire.

As an FMV survival horror meets card battler, you'll find yourself in 2019, where you're trying to get to the bottom of a mysterious, cryptic 1995 CD-ROM that you picked up at a thrift store. It nails the 90's CD-ROM aesthetic, and this is a great opportunity to get a taste of its unique "card-slashing" horror.

Play the demo here.

6. Vampire Crawlers

Speaking of Vampire Survivors, the same developer behind the gothic bullet hell roguelike that took the world by storm in recent years is bringing us a new roguelike, and you can try it out right now. Titled Vampire Crawlers, Poncle's upcoming release takes what worked about Survivors and moves into the realms of a card battling deckbuilder.

The result is already very promising, with a first-person dungeon crawling format setting the scene for some card-based action. In fact, it's already sunk its fangs into our games editor, Oscar Taylor-Kent, who simply can't stop playing the demo – and the best kind of recommendation.

Play the demo here.

5. Denshattack!

Imagine performing slick ollies and grinds like you would on the back of a skateboard, only you're instead pulling off tricks as a literal train across railway tracks throughout a dystopian Japan. Well, that's essentially the premise of Denshattack, another colorful new indie I've had my watchful gaze on for quite some time.

The demo certainly gives you a fast-paced slice of stylish chaos as you flip and multi-track drift as a customizable locomotive - with our very own Dustin Bailey highlighting its distinct Dreamcast vibes. With the first three levels available to try, it's well worth getting on board with this one.

Play the demo here.

4. Zero Parades

Following up a game like Disco Elysium can't be easy, especially when it received so much critical acclaim. But the studio behind one of the best RPGs in recent times isn't resting on its laurels, because we're about to see a fresh RPG experience with an espionage twist in Zero Parades.

And if you can hardly wait for the next game from ZA/UM, a Steam Next Fest demo is here for you, and it's well worth checking out. As Oscar states, it's already proving to be a worthy successor, with its own uniquely weird and wonderful edge. If you loved Disco Elysium, give this a try.

Play the demo here.

3. Find Your Words

As soon as I learned about Find Your Words and its heartfelt concept, I was immediately keen to check it out. Created by two dads who took inspiration from their non-speaking kids and their journeys using ACC (Augmentative and Alternative Communication), Find Your Words is an adventure set within the grounds of a summer camp.

The demo gives you the chance to see how you collect symbols for your communication binder to express yourself as you meet other campers, and you can try out a few activities, or enjoy exploring the scenic area. It's already very charming.

Play the demo here.

2. Alabaster Dawn

As soon as I heard about the inspirations behind Alabaster Dawn, I just knew I needed to give this one a go – and you absolutely should too. From the same developer behind the 2018 2D action RPG CrossCode, Radical Fish Games' Alabaster Dawn draws from the likes of Devil May Cry and Kingdom Hearts for its deep, fast-paced combat, which Austin notes feels "like lightning in your hands".

The top-down RPG and its pixel art style really pops in the updated demo, which is easily a Steam Next Fest highlight – it's definitely wishlist worthy.

Play the demo here.

1. Inkonbini: One Store. Many Stories

As a big fan of games like Unpacking, Camper Van: Make It Home, and Tiny Bookshop, Inkonbini has been high up on my wishlist ever since it was first announced two years ago. So, naturally when I learned I could finally get my hands on it thanks to its Steam Next Fest demo, I practically ran to my PC.

Offering up the prologue which lets you get a taste of Mokoto's job at a local convenience store in '90s Japan, I'm happy to report that it's only made me more excited for this game to release. Thoughtful, laid-back, and visually beautiful, I can't recommend this demo enough for fans of cozy life / management sims.

Play the demo here.

Get ready for more Steam events with our guide to all of the Steam Sales for 2026.

On paper, hiring roaches to help me restore and run an abandoned post office sounds like a recipe for disaster – aside from the obvious ick factor of the six-legged critters, the fact that an inspector is eventually going to come calling to test my operation, and I can't imagine having insect employees is up to code. Thankfully, in new indie roguelite Roach Post from developer Karp Games, the various cockroach workers I can hire are not only cartoonishly cute (which deals with the unfortunate reputation they have), but they also prove to be very useful as I set about readying packages for delivery.

Every customer who comes by my humble post office has a different kind of parcel-shaped challenge for me to overcome. In order to successfully send out a package, I have to set down as many stamps as possible on a parcel's surface to earn a set score that will then allow me to send out a package. Should I run out of space to place down my stamps before I reach my desired score, I'll not only let down my customer by failing to send it out – it'll also hurt my business's reputation. But fortunately, I don't have to do it all alone, because my cockroach workers are always nearby to help me out with useful buffs.

Stamp it down

I'll be the first to admit I'm not very good at puzzle games, but something about Roach Post taps into the meditative side of my brain. Every piece of post is a puzzle of its own, and there's a multilayered level of strategy to successfully sending out mail. Firstly, I get stamps three at a time, a bit like being dealt cards randomly from a deck, and they come in different colors and shapes. Every stamp set down means more score points, and to try and make the most of a parcel's surface area by setting down as many stamps as possible to attain the score I need to send out a package.

But the placement of colors can really make all the difference when it comes to boosting my score. The easiest way to multiply it is to set down the same colored stamps next to each other, but certain colors go together well, while others clash. Anytime you go to set down a colored stamp, you'll see a plus or minus sign next to adjacent colors which will tell you if colors go together or not. Red stamps go well together with green, for example, which means placing them nearby will boost the points I earn for the stamp I set down.

Some packages will have certain areas blocked off where stamps can't be placed to add to the puzzling challenge of getting the different shapes to fit on the front of the parcel. A certain section can sometimes have negative or positive multipliers on the paper, which also means I have to be even more strategic when it comes to placing my stamps, lest I deduct from my score by setting a stamp over a negative space. Should I fail to earn the score I need to send out a package, I'll fail, and my post office's reputation will take a hit. If it drops to zero before the inspector comes around to give me one last puzzle challenge, it's effectively game over.

After each package has been delivered (or unsuccessfully sent out), I get the opportunity to use coins to hire cockroach workers to aid me in my shift. Every little roach has a unique bonuses which aren't too dissimilar from the dog tags in Dogpile, or the card modifiers in Balatro, that can help me as I ready a package with stamps, from one dressed as a wizard-like Astrologer that will add to my score anytime the same colored stamps are set by each other, to an insect clerk who will give extra core to hire more staff if there are an equal number of colored stamps at the end of a round.

It takes me a spell to learn how it all works, but thankfully there are different difficulty levels to choose from. I decided to take it slow to begin with and sink into the easiest option for my first shift. Each customer during my shift has their own difficulty level, too, with the ones who visit my post office presenting me with easy to normal challenges that have different rewards and failure rates that effect my reputation score. Once I get into the swing of things, it's a pretty laidback experience overall.

I've always been inexplicably drawn to games that center around delivering mail (see Lake), so I naturally gravitated towards the idea of Roach Post. While I can't say I ever expected to be putting stamps on parcels with the help of cockroaches, it somehow just works in this roguelite, and if you're after a cute puzzling challenge, then take this as an invitation to check it out.

Roach Post is out now on PC. Explore other indies we've been enjoying this year by heading on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

I've finally found the strange key to unlock a mystery chamber when my time runs out. Seconds, minutes, and hours are a precious resource in Clue: Murder by Death, as are the limited health items dotted throughout Lord Anderson's sprawling manor. Detective John Smith's three-space inventory is another factor to manage, forcing me to constantly swap items in and out of his pockets on my hunt for the truth: who murdered the Lord, what with, and why?

Uncovering the answers to these questions is trickier than it seems. Set against the backdrop of 1930s England, the heyday of gumshoe detective mysteries like Poirot, Clue: Murder by Death is an intensely replayable adventure-puzzle game with no shortage of drama to uncover.

Is a salacious affair nothing more than scandal, or could it be the killer's motive? What secrets lie in the family crypt? And why on earth is there a vampire named Mr D roaming about the gloomy halls? All of this sounds intriguing enough, but you'll have to focus on the most probable lines of inquiry to investigate. Scotland Yard arrives in two hours to wrest the case from Detective Smith's hands, meaning every second counts – and everyone, even the sweet old Lady Brighton, is a suspect.

The plot thickens

You won't be able to uncover all the mysteries of Lord Anderson's abode in a single two-hour session. Not even three or four will be enough; I should know, since I spent a whole Sunday picking through the place and still have yet to find the culprit.

Instead, I focus on exploring which of the characters I'd like to investigate, choosing a handful at a time. This is made easier when the kindly butler, Mr Benson, offers up any two of the household's staff and residents to aid you on your inquiry. There's a colorful cast to choose from, each represented by an adorable cartoon character model reminiscent of player tokens in board games like Cluedo. You can enlist estranged sisters Lady Rose and Lady Sophie, for example, or perhaps a staff member like Susan Grey. Even that shady certainly-not-a-vampire Mr D can be at your beck and call, unless you'd rather investigate his curious stash of bottled blood from a safe distance.

One of my favorite things about being able to swap across characters, aside from granting me three extra inventory slots apiece, is how much their perspective can influence a playthrough. Walking near highlighted items in Clue: Murder by Death allows a controlled character to make an observation about things.

Each character has their own opinions and reactions to secrets you uncover, from Lady Rose's outrage at uncovering a hidden affair to Mr D's gleeful discovery of a creepy, cobwebbed passageway hidden behind a bookshelf. Some of these characters will remark on their own secrets if you enter their bedchambers, pointing out things that the detective might have missed – especially if you've dropped his trusty magnifying glass in favor of carrying a clue item.

It's these small hints and moments of character flavor that give Clue: Murder by Death a narrative edge.

Spending a whole two-hour session uncovering extramarital affairs is just as exciting as traversing hidden dungeons, solving riddles, and striking up unique conversations. It may or may not be relevant to Lord Anderson's murder, but every exhausted lead is one less I need to worry about next time. Clue: Murder by Death feels almost roguelike in that regard; presenting an incorrect accusation at the end of my allotted two hours leads nicely into another session, and if you have a notebook handy, you can metagame your way for a more streamlined experience next time around.

In fact, I'd say that having a pen and paper handy is essential. Much like Blue Prince's own web of overlapping mysteries, you never know when you might stumble across an item, location, or bit of information that might come in handy later. The detective's case notes might present a list of all notable interactions that can be clicked to help color code and organize them, but the UI can be confusing to navigate when you find yourself scrolling for ages on the hunt for one specific lead.

Let's split up, gang

Similarly, the progressively revealed mansion floor plan holds very little information and cannot be annotated in-game; rooms show up as blank squares rather than having names written on each of them. I'm sure I waste upwards of 30 minutes per playthrough simply trying to find my way into the gardens, and a lack of shared pockets means I need to hunt down characters using other ones if I want to trade items.

But these hurdles have their workarounds. I find myself using characters as map markers, leaving Mr D hovering in the chapel (to the discomfort of the family priest) or positioning Lady Rose in the lobby so I don't forget where the main staircase is. I also make notes of key item locations and the quickest pathways between them, meaning each playthrough allows me to see more and more of developer Cocodrolo Games' charming mystery.

To me, this is the ultimate way to enjoy Clue: Murder by Death. Don't get bogged down in finding the killer immediately. Get to know the cast, memorize the layout of your surroundings, and be sure to rule out anything you don't need to experience more than once. Unless you want to, of course. This is a thrilling slice of old-school boardgame fun, and sometimes there's nothing better than following the rabbit hole all the way down – just as long as you have a way to get back out again, of course.

Got your Sherlock juices flowing? Check out the best mystery games to play right now in 2026!

Woken up in the middle of the night in your hotel room with police busting down your door is only how Detective Instinct: Farewell, My Beloved starts. On a study trip abroad to the fictional European country of Vendreka, the lead detective from the local force investigating the murder that happened the floor above you decides a fresh perspective from literature students – you and your friend Emma – might be a benefit. It's unorthodox, but, hey, that's gaming, and I can never turn down the chance for a bit of digital sleuthing.

But this is just the tutorial. Quickly transitioning to a sleeper train as you take a Eurostar-like journey from Vendreka to London, Emma meets a mysterious woman who then promptly seems to disappear. Enlisting you to help unravel the disappearance leads to unearthing a conspiracy – was she murdered, abducted, or something else? And what do the eclectic and larger-than-life personalities of the other staff and passengers know about it that they won't tell you?

Choo detective

This murder mystery is a great story to work through on its own merits, but what's particularly eye-catching about Detective Instinct is its sheer sense of style. Retro-styled, the menu-based command inputs directly harken back to a specific type of Japanese detective adventure game design from the '80s, the likes of Nintendo's Famicom Detective Club Series or The Hokkaido Serial Murder Case. Meanwhile, the mix of stylized and expressive sprite work with detailed backgrounds and compressed-for-effect full motion video cutscenes reminds me of early CD adventure games like Snatcher or Policenauts, creating a wonderful visual palette.

I love when retro-inspired games relish the opportunity to leverage lo-fi aesthetics as part of their artistic effect, rather than feeling like they look old school just for the sake of it. Developer Armonica seems devoted to capturing the essence of what it feels like to play those classics, and at points I feel like I've genuinely been transported back in time and am playing some kind of re-release despite this being brand new.

Of course, there are shades of other adventure games in the mix as well, such as Ace Attorney or Hotel Dusk. But Detective Instinct really commits to the command menu system for its interface. More than some kind of limitation, navigating these menus – be it to investigate specific areas or most often to bring up certain topics in conversation that you collect like key items – become a sort of social puzzle game.

You can brute force these encounters by constantly running down the list of options and, unlike its pricklier peers, Detective Instinct is very generous with hints if you need them. But, nothing feels better than skilfully guiding the flow of chat to uncover all you need without hitting roadblocks. Sometimes that means pressing the same topic multiple times when you get the sense a witness has more to say, or moving back to a previous topic once you feel like a thread of dialog means they'll now be willing to dive deeper.

Some may find this clunky, but there's always a logic to how conversation moves – which I think some people can miss because of the simplicity in how the menus are laid out. All of this on a design level holds true whether you're playing the Famicom Detective Club re-releases on Nintendo Switch or Detective Instinct, and in that sense Armonica have really nailed the vibe of this mechanic. It might seem old school on the surface, but there's an art to this style of play that feels like it hasn't aged a day.

Each character you meet has their own eccentricities, and getting a handle on how they tick is vital to learning how to better converse with them as you and Emma poke around. The train setting – a little like Murder on the Orient Express or other locomotion mystery classics – limits character interaction in a way that makes the adventure feel quite neat, and avoids feeling like you're fruitlessly combing back and forth between scenes making little progress.

Even so, at other times, you can feel a bit (ahem) railroaded into the path ahead without much choice in how you poke around. Still, it beats going around circles trying to figure out some flag you missed raising with a seemingly minor interaction. Detective Instinct is full steam ahead.

So far, so glowing, but my recommendation for sleuthing lovers does come with some caveats, and that unfortunately is the mystery itself. While I really like the story Detective Instinct ends up telling (and I'll definitely avoid spoiling it for you!), few of the mysteries themselves really end up landing. Often, Detective Instinct will reveal information so seemingly obvious I was genuinely unsure that the main characters didn't know it already. It's also an adventure that's over quite quickly once you chatter your way through each fairly sedate reveal.

Detective Instinct is worth sticking with. Its intrigue remains genuinely compelling even when the mysteries themselves falter, and in part the brevity that mostly comes from a lack of friction also means it's far from daunting to follow along until the credits. Once vital question has been answered by investigating Detective Instinct, however: developer Armonica have managed to assemble a really slick set of systems from their own beloved mystery game inspirations, and whatever they end up making after this is sure to be special.

Detective Instinct: Farewell, My Beloved is out now on PC and Nintendo Switch.

Looking for a train murder mystery with more Monkey Island flair? Then you need to check out the ever-joyous Locomotive! For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series. Or, check out our best game stories list for more!

As a journalist, even an entertainment journalist, there is an ingrained nostalgia for something like newspaper microfiche. You know, that storage method you've probably seen in movies or TV shows where the plucky protagonists are scrolling through brightly lit images of old newspapers until they suddenly discover the article or photo that blows the case wide open. The puzzle game TR-49 from developer inkle isn't exactly that, but it absolutely scratches the same itch that crops up whenever I see those machines and think, "Boy, that sure would be satisfying."

And it is satisfying to do TR-49's version of the same. As Abbi, a young woman seemingly trapped in a basement with some strange machine largely consisting of dials and a CRT screen, I scroll and read and click and scroll some more. The four-digit dial – two letters, two numbers – allows me to bring up marked records of my choice to peruse and inspect.

A mysterious "Liam" on the radio instructs me to search for a very specific record, because there are bad people looking to stop us from finding it. And so the game goes: dialing, sorting, naming records, and generally playing a complicated bit of interactive fiction, hyperlinks included, with some shockingly stellar voice acting thrown in.

See previous record

While there's ostensibly some sense of urgency here – Liam says our enemies are getting closer all the time – that narrative doesn't seem to actually be backed up mechanically. There's an overarching story that plays out while I dig through the archives and piece together the digital(ish?) lives of Cecil Caulderly, his family, and all of the material that's been ingested by the machine.

That's what it does, by the way. The contraption that makes up the entirety of TR-49's gameplay is functionally a machine that you input written material into and it collates and cobbles together inferences and understandings, and so on. If that immediately makes you think, "sounds like AI, or at least an LLM," you're basically repeating the thought I had time and time again, though TR-49 doesn't exactly say as much.

While technically fairly limited in scope, TR-49 quickly envelops itself in complexities. In the search of the important record in question, you must parse through other records, which means you must find them first. How do you find them? Well, you can piece together clues like "so-and-so was born on this date," or "a follow-up was published two years later by this particular author," which clue you into what sort of dial setting to seek out. Or you can just… put in a set of letters and numbers and hope for the best.

Narrative aspects notwithstanding, the frame of the game fascinated me from the jump. Rather than zooming in on the screen itself and having the player navigate there, the actual machine and room it's in are featured prominently. It's a design choice that really enhances the physicality of the space despite existing entirely digitally, and basically every other design decision complements it.

The dials are analog and chunky with the options for letters and numbers physically circling the screen – which flickers and warps with unstable power – while the archive figuratively picks up and moves from one cataloged source to another rather than simply switch like an internet tab might.

Puzzled reactions

I never quite know how to talk about puzzle design and puzzle games in general. What makes a good puzzle? I managed to solve TR-49 in about seven hours without resorting to looking up solutions. The hint system feels fairly unobtrusive, though I've seen the complaints online that it's overbearing. I never quite felt like I was being led by the nose, though Abbi and Liam could be awful chatty at times. Instead, the design of the game lends itself to serendipitous discoveries like, for example, discovering material at say EK-11 because you were moving away from CC-11 and into the EK archive, and it automatically loads up whenever you accurately complete a dial combination – even if you're in the middle of putting it in.

What I do know for certain is that I initially booted up TR-49 knowing very little about it. I'd seen the initial trailers, thought "huh," and moved on. As I learned about my task and some initial information on the world, I found myself plucking in potential archival destinations in order to just brute force solution. There are only so many different combinations, after all.

As I read more of material presented and the comments made by previous users, I became more compelled to track specific data points and functions, going so far as to physically write down a short list of common ones to refer back to, as I collected the names – "My God, He Dances" and "Revisions" and "Astral Perplexities" – and locations of books and letters and notes and reference material before then attempting to associate them together. Each successful association accompanied by material suddenly and mysteriously becoming more legible and recognizable. Another data point among many, strung along in a path ultimately concluding with the record I'd been sent to find – and the mystery of why, how, and to what end up in all of that.

That, for me, is a good puzzle.

TR-49 is out now for PC via Steam and iOS. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

It's 2026, and I'm still licking my wounds from Hollow Knight Silksong, questioning how a game so cute could be so cruel. This is the final straw, I vow. I cannot keep loving these Metroidvanias that do not love me back.

Then I hear a gentle knock against the door of defeat in my mind. In walks MIO: Memories in Orbit, politely offering to bandage every wound left by the savage games of last year.

MIO stands out like a soft glow in the dark, crowded room of Metroidvanias - not by being tougher than its peers, but by being subtler, stranger, and deeply human.

The beauty within

The latest project from French indie studio Douze Dixièmes, MIO's most obvious appeal comes from its gorgeous cel-shaded art style. Its biomes shift from pastel hues to icy blues and stark mechanical greys. Every area feels distinct, yet connected, unified by a watercolor-like palette that gives the impression of beauty slowly fraying at the edges.

But look beyond its gorgeous visuals and you will be rewarded with a story full of emotional depth. The game is set aboard The Vessel, a colossal ark of dysfunctional robots edging toward total shutdown. The Vessel isn't just an exquisite setting - it's a character in decline, a living structure whose failing systems mirror the quiet melancholy of its abandoned inhabitants. "Is your heart still beating? Or is it like mine?" asks Mio, offering me little alternative but to continue traversing platforms whilst blinded by tears. The dialogue in MIO may be sparse, but when characters speak – it feels like they are speaking directly to the most melancholy corners of my heart.

There's a genuine emotional pull in restoring The Vessel, not because the game demands it, but because the game's story makes it impossible not to care. The more you explore its world, the clearer it becomes that this delicate world is failing. Robots lay collapsed in heaps beyond repair but that fragility is exactly what makes MIO so compelling.

Movement is the game's defining joy, and from the outset it's clear that Douze Dixièmes has prioritized fluidity over friction. Mio is light, nimble, and wonderfully responsive, especially in the air. Most notably, Mio is able to double-jump from the very beginning, which is a small design choice that feels monumental. Finally, we have a Metroidvania where not every basic pleasure has to be earned.

While some may argue that easy modes defeat the purpose of the notoriously challenging Metroidvania genre, Douze Dixièmes have created flexible difficulty settings for MIO that ensure frustration never halts your momentum. Runbacks can feel long, with tricky vertical climbs through swarms of flying enemies, but there's a merciful settings option called Pacifist Mode. Switch to this and enemies will only attack you once provoked; which is perfect for saving your precious health while trekking back to a big boss.

There is also a setting called 'Eroded Bosses' which lowers a bosses health after each failed attempt. Personally, I did not resort to using this because I was having way too much fun learning the bosses as they are. Each boss tested me to stretch my acquired movement abilities to their full potential, continually teaching me new lessons in just how versatile Mio's skill set is.

Boss battles

Simply put: the boss fights are delightful. Stroll into an arena and the regular choral music shifts to a groovy electronic score. I found myself timing my hits on Calderon Unyielding Furnace to the utterly hypnotic beat of the song. Some bosses in MIO are pretty challenging, but my smile never tenses into a grimace during the fight, because the overall vibes for each boss are so infectious. You'll gladly want to run back, again and again and again.

Mio's weapon is a simple hairpin that somewhat belies the flexibility of her toolkit. Grappling hooks, projectile orbs, decoy clones, and evasive hooks open up multiple approaches to encounters, while a mod system lets you fine-tune her abilities to suit specific challenges. Capacity limits mean you’re constantly making interesting trade-offs, building different versions of Mio rather than chasing a single optimal build.

There's a lot of excellent Metroidvanias out there, but MIO distinguishes itself by refusing to be grueling for the sake of it. Where some games in the genre feel like trials to be survived, MIO is an experience to be absorbed. It's a game that values mood, movement, and empathy over sheer difficulty.

Long after the final platforming puzzle is solved and the last boss defeated, its strange tubes, fading colors, and haunting Vessel lingers long in my mind. MIO: Memories in Orbit is an unforgettable journey, and a quietly confident reminder that sometimes the most powerful games aren't the ones you conquer – but the ones that conquer your heart.

MIO: Memories in Orbit is out now on PC, Xbox Series X/S, PS5, and Switch 2. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

Lately, I've been getting angry a lot. I'm always being sold something, or trying to guess what I'm being sold. Social media has become increasingly isolating, with meaningful interactions outnumbered ten to one by sports betting adverts, AI slop, and bad-faith actors who incite hatred for profit. We've locked ourselves in a bear-baiting noosphere and swallowed the key. But what if there was a crunchy way out?

Drywall Eating Simulator is a tranquilizer for my tortured brain. An indie comedy from developer Peripheral Playbox, Drywall Eating Simulator is about acknowledging the anger that modern-day life seems intent on stoking, and directing it somewhere that won't feed the Engagement Machine: munching yummy, yummy drywall.

Plaster in Paris

The first level begins, and I'm late for work. A visual effect that looks like greasy VHS tape and migraines gives my apartment block a sickly sheen, and to make matters worse, cleaning supplies block the way to the stairwell. With no clear way forward I stroll into the apartment next door, where my neighbor politely insists I leave.

Instead, I scare his son by letting myself into his bedroom. Only one more apartment remains, but it's another dead end – occupied by a frantic Girl Mom and a girl who seems to know I'm in a game. After a few minutes of searching for a way forward, I arrive back at the ominous child. Speaking with her makes my character angry, the crackle in my peripheral blooming. Still, no way forward. Unless…

Crunch. With a click, her bedroom wall gives way. Chunks of drywall tumble down, and it leaves a hole big enough to climb through. I fastidiously munch the bits of wall that have fallen to the floor. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. The noise is cathartic – but unlike the sprinkling of water in Stardew Valley or rustle of paper in Pentiment, it doesn't appeal to the part of my brain that likes to read books and watch my dog play. This is a noise designed for running your tongue over your teeth and imagining the plaster crumbling between them, and how much better it would make you feel, and oh wouldn't it be so good to eat drywall for real.

So begins the cycle: get mad, eat drywall to calm down, get mad again, eat more drywall. There's no shortage of things to make you angry. Eating into another apartment reveals a woman who has allowed AI to decide what she knows, although it's unclear if the AI she uses for horoscope readings is the same as any of the AI she's dating. The ensuing rage sends me careening through her living room wall – crunch, crunch – and into her neighbor's sparse living room, where a tech bro talks about being too busy with work to decorate. For two years. Crunch.

Yes, Drywall Eating Simulator has its own bones to pick. An AI chatbot tells me to buy a gun, while another AI chases rent because it's my landlord. CRUNCH. Poking fun at capitalism is the vogue right now, but Drywall Eating Simulator feels more authentic than most. This is a cathartic thrashing against the helplessness of it all, and by not trying to actually answer anything, it's all the funnier. What are we doing to ourselves? It doesn't matter, eat drywall. Why is that child from the apartment block watching me from the loading bay at work? Eat. Drywall.

There is a story threaded throughout Drywall Eating Simulator, but it's short and straightforward enough that I'd prefer you see it for yourself. The whole thing reminds me of this I Think You Should Leave sketch – what did they do to us? – but just as eating drywall cools your anger in the game, there's a perverse solidarity in knowing that other angry humans made this; a message in a bottle from other castaways. Go ahead, take a bite. You'll feel better for it.

Dogpile is a roguelike deckbuilder with shades of Tetris and Balatro that has me trying to make the biggest dog of all

As the keeper of the Indie Spotlight series here at GamesRadar+, I've had a close eye on the indie scene throughout 2025. From seeing the likes of Dogubomb's Blue Prince land back in April and quickly become a wide-spread puzzle obsession, to the multiplayer majesty of Peak that dominated social media feeds in June and rapidly climbed in popularity, there have been an astounding number of highlights in the last 12 months.

As I reflect back on so many of the memorable new indie games we've covered, it's abundantly clear to me they've delivered some of the most surprising, inventive, and moving experiences of the year. With so many developers pouring their passion and creativity into games of all genres and shapes and sizes, there's so much to shout about, and in a year that's seen so much hardship within the games industry, it feels only right that we celebrate the many incredible indie releases in 2025.

Making memories

Some of my personal highlights of the year are all attributed to the indie space, and they really do showcase a broad range of experiences. From the comfortingly cozy tea-making of Wanderstop from Ivy Road, to the likes of solo developed delight Spilled! – which delivered a short, meaningful pixelated boating adventure that donated a percentage of its proceeds to whale and dolphin conservation – so many of the new indie games I've played in 2025 have made a lasting impression.

Tiny Bookshop is another perfect example of that. After getting glowing reviews on Steam, I sunk into the management sim on the Switch and was immediately taken by its charming characters, satisfying bookshop keeping, and sense of progression. I've revisited it often whenever I want to slow down and distract myself from my busy thoughts, and it's a game I'd wholeheartedly recommend to anyone who's after a laidback gem.

Honestly, this year has seen so many indie releases I'd recommend to anyone who will listen. And no matter what genre speaks to you, there's bound to be something we've covered in the indie spotlight for you – which really illustrates how the indie scene continues to bring us such a broad and varied range of adventures from independent developers of varying sizes.

Are you a fan of gumshoe capers? Well, I'd point you to the likes of the comedic Cat Detective Albert Wilde, Duck Detective: Ghost of Glamping, or the episodic Of the Devil, which is like a fusion of Ace Attorney meets Danganropa.

Horror more your vibe? The incredibly unsettling No, I'm Not Human, the Tim Burton-esque environmental puzzler Gloomy Eyes, or Doom 2 mod Total Chaos are here for you. Looking for short but memorable experiences? Well, look no further than the likes of the fantastic slice-of-life adventure, Despelote.

There's no end of other examples I could pluck from the year that deserve recognition. I mean heck, A Game About Digging A Hole even surfaced to intrigue us with its hidden depths.

We've also seen some Early Access gems arrive this year, from the likes of Aloft which landed in January to bring us a whimsical twist on the survival genre, while 9 Kings delivered a dose of roguelike city building that impressed us with its intricate design and satisfying strategy.

And speaking of Early Access, how could I not mention Supergiant's mythological marvel, Hades 2, which left its Early Access period in September. As our Hades 2 review highlights, the follow-up really is godly, boasting a rich cast of characters and impeccable combat that you'll relish getting stuck into time and again.

Heavy hitters

It's no small exaggeration to say that plenty of games from independent developers dominated the conversation this year. Out of GTA 6, Hollow Knight: Silksong has easily been one of the most anticipated games of the last few years, and no one could quite believe it when Team Cherry's sequel finally materialized in September. Even following its long-awaited release, it has continued to hold players' attention for months as so many delve into the haunted kingdom.

Following Aggro Crab's crustacean Soulsike last year, Team Peak came to bring us the game jam born co-op climbing adventure, Peak, which challenged us all to work together to make it up rockfaces and slippery inclines as we try to reach the top of an island's mountain. And of course, as our Blue Prince review can attest to, the puzzler brought us a curiously unique roguelike that quickly showed GOTY potential for so many.

But there were also some unexpected surprises this year, too. One that filled the Wolf Among Us 2 hole in my life came in the form of AdHoc's episodic narrative-driven superhero comedy, Dispatch. Not only did it introduce a cast of memorable characters brought to life by a talented cast, but it also proved there's still an appetite for Telltale-like story-driven games.

Likewise, Consume Me arrived to remind us how effectively heavy themes can be tackled with humor and heart. And you just have to check out our Skin Deep review to see that the indie scene can also drop funny, imaginative immersive sims that drip with style.

The very fact that all of the indie games mentioned here barely scratch the surface of how many fantastic new arrivals came our way this year speaks volumes. Every year I look back over the Indie Spotlight series, I'm in awe of the many memorable adventures indie developers have brought us. And if 2026 is anything like this year, it just makes me all the more excited for the upcoming indie games we've yet to see.

Look back over the highlights in the GamesRadar+ GOTY: The 25 Best Games of 2025 list.

After a few games of deckbuilding roguelike Dogpile, my goal is crystal clear: I want – nay, need – to make the biggest canine possible. With a yard laid out before me, cards showing different cartoon doggos of varying sizes are drawn from my deck. Dragging a card down plucks the pooch out of the card, and I can send them floating down to the bottom of the yard — Tetris-style. When two of the same dogs touch, they merge to become a larger breed, earning me points in the form of bones in the process.

With different point milestones to try to achieve in order to visit the dog wash and get upgrades for the next subsequent round, failing to earn enough will put me in the doghouse – where I'll be forced to choose some bad traits to bestow upon my mounting pile of pups. Any time I succeed at merging my four-legged friends and watch as they transform before my eyes, I'm immediately hit with serotonin. From two tiny chihuahuas that combine to become a Bichon Frisee-like puffball, to eventually merging two large greyhounds, I audibly gasp with joy when a rotund old English sheep dog takes up a big portion of my yard.

But the in-game glossary tells me there are still some large breeds I've yet to unlock, and so my joyous quest to see the biggest dog of all continues.

Pet shop toys

The different upgrades you can earn by acquiring enough bones, together with the Dog Tags you can buy at the pet shop, bring to mind the card modifiers in Balatro.

One dog tag I purchase during my third dogpiling run, for example, is known as Bouncy Castle, and pinning it to the collar on the right-hand side of the screen makes all the pups I plant in my yard bouncy. It turns out this is a very useful modifier to have, since each and every time I drop a pooch into the fray, they ricochet off the fences and often find their way to a dog of their kind to merge without me having to worry too much about placement.

Then, later, I splash cash on another tag labelled Roll Over just for the fun of it, and together with the Bouncy Castle, I serendipitously activate a potent combination.

Each time my card deck shuffles, the Roll Over tag flips my yard, and since my dogs are very bouncy, my Dogpile gets royally shaken up. My pups practically fly as the dogpile flips, and as they bounce back down and crash into each other, my screen becomes a hive of activity as bones burst onto my screen and dogs become bigger dogs.

Puppy power

But even though this turns out to be a very effective combo, it does mean that I have less control over my growing dogpile. My yard only has a finite amount of space, and the more cards that are dealt, the more careful I have to be about where I send each dog, lest I pile them too high and they overflow.

With a cut off point at the very top of the yard, any dogs that cross this barrier sets off a 10 second timer, and should the clock run out, it's game over and I'll have to start a new game. And herein lies the challenge: when you're trying to make the biggest dog, you have to make other big dogs in the process, but there's only so much space to play with.

But the many different tags and upgrades you can buy or earn constantly make each roguelike run feel fresh. Not to mention the bad traits you can pick up in the dog house, which can negatively alter a dog's behavior, or even throw a rock into the mix to take up precious space. In the pet shop, you can also purchase new cards to add to your deck, and some have incredibly useful abilities – such as leash which allows you to pull a dog back up from the pile to place them back down in a better position. All of these features work together to present new challenges and unexpected buffs that keep me coming back time and again.

Time absolutely slips by me as I start new games, and every time I see that game over timer run out thanks to my high pile, I'm presented with stats that serve to motivate me further. Showing me the number of hands played, the goals I've met with my bones, how many dogs I've dropped and merged, and more, I instantly want to see if I can up my score.

I still haven't managed to unlock the biggest dog of them all yet, but you better believe I'll keep on piling up the dogs until I do. Oh, and I feel it's very important to tell you that you can pet the dogs any time you like. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to see if I can finally combine some old English sheepdogs.

Dogpile is out now on PC. For more of our highlights, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

The Doomguy of the early '90s is a purebred Byronic hero, with dissatisfaction and a sneer stapled to his otherwise tolerable, chiseled face. More importantly, the Doomguy is alone.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in Total Chaos, solo developer Sam Prebble's total conversion Doom 2 mod from 2018 – which publishers Apogee Entertainment and Infogrames have recently released as a standalone survival horror experience. The occasional FPS turns heroes into helpless ghosts, and while I'm worried about the same thing happening to me, I'm also convinced Total Chaos is the only game worth playing this winter.

Sick feeling

Total Chaos makes me feel like I got the flu. Its apparently unnamed Coast Guard protagonist gets me woozy as he glides with Doomguy smugness through the nonlinear levels of the abandoned mining island Fort Oasis, bobbing as if he's permanently lost his balance on the ruined vessel he arrived in.

The fever comes when I meet Fort Oasis' only inhabitants – moaning, 0% body fat humanoids with no brains and, sometimes, no legs. It's all so perverse, with tormentingly sparse sound design assisted by legendary Silent Hill composer Akira Yamaoka. But Total Chaos is an important lesson for people like me, who dread nighttime in December – it's not the darkness that will hurt you, but your fear.

"Seasonless, herbless, treeless, manless, lifeless – A lump of death – a chaos of hard clay," the Romantic poet Lord Byron wrote about the apocalypse in an 1816 poem, no doubt anticipating the permanent gray of Fort Oasis. I guess I've been to this cracked, concrete hell before, according to the protagonist, and I find out the rest through scattered notes and an increasingly reproachful man on the radio. I thought I was here on business, to respond to a distress call from an offshore boat – but Total Chaos reveals a more complicated, metaphorical mission for my protagonist through unreliable narration that reminds me of Silent Hill 2.

Like that guilt-ridden game and psychological horror Amnesia: The Dark Descent – whose 2010 textures and bruised castle walls are definitely cousins to Fort Oasis's lo-fi slime – Total Chaos ultimately uses the supernatural to emphasize more mundane tragedies, like degrading mental health. I have known that feeling as well as my protagonist.

As if sensing this, he shrieks when he slams down a heavy attack from what must be his unhealthy gut – I've been feeding him too much monster meat from fallen enemies. This person is indeed a snowball, born to break.

Survival horror

In any case, I soon become paranoid that Total Chaos isn't a mental health allegory hidden under layers of Xbox 360 grime, after all – but that my protagonist is actually a baby disguised as a sad man. The game uses a demanding survival system, and only a few jabs from its various, scarred enemies make him bleed endlessly while shaving his health bar down into nothing.

I scramble for cloth bandages in my backpack inventory, which is starting to become so heavy with pickaxes and other breakable garbage, I'm moving through airless mine shafts more slowly. I'm also getting more sluggish because, despite the buzzing flies and likely pervasive black mold issue across Fort Oasis, Total Chaos' protagonist is ravenous. Scanning the hammer heads and glass shivs I've been holding onto like they're diamonds, I vow to tape together a few more weapons at the next crafting bench I find.

The food is more complicated. There's a range of goo to swallow – the monster meat I mentioned before, as well as rotting meat, meat cans, and salami sticks of dubious origin. There's rotting bread, good bread, dirty water. Vodka. Whiskey. But what satiates my stomach might harm my health. In any case, I take a chance on a shriveled apple, and it helps a bit. I suppose this is Oasis, not Eden; everything is upside down.

Breathing room

I reflect on this in the graveyard on Fort Oasis' surface, ruins and new trees under an infinitely stormy sky, surrounded by an angry ocean spitting waves and waves of salt. The water is white like death, white like winter.

The small cemetery is brutally beautiful, not in spite of the piles of brown trash and rusted metal that surround it, but because of those things. Flowers have decided to grow in that nightmare, a mishmash of man-made waste, and their lush purple petals give the crumbled headstones some dignity. Before I move on to face more mutated spiders, or ughhing skinny humanoids, or the wraiths I lazily throw bricks at – I know I have to appreciate it. Total Chaos is an onslaught of unsubtle sludge and bad thoughts, so its more quietly gothic elements require contemplation.

"Would you like to live with your soul in the grave?" Heathcliff says in Wuthering Heights. I'd respond, "No, I would not." But Total Chaos makes me think that, sometimes, you have no choice.

Total Chaos is out now on PC, Xbox Series X, and PS5. For more highlights this year, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

Part RPG, part adventure game, Rue Valley is a story that meditates on the inherent repetition of all gaming. Beyond titles in which replaying is the point – roguelikes such as Hades 2, or arcade games like Lumines Arise – most every game is about retrying in one way or another. Anyone who's lost all their lives in Super Mario Bros, or had to re-listen to the same barks after failing a firefight in a tomb in Uncharted can attest to that.

Rue Valley, from developer Emotion Spark Studio, is all about repetition, and trying again – but every loop is a part of the plot, shared by player character Eugene Harrow as well as simply you, the player. As his mandated therapy session draws to a close – which, for some reason, is in a motel room in the middle of nowhere – he ends up trapped in a time loop from 8:00pm to 8:47pm. Why? And what to do about it? Both you and Eugene need to figure that out, one loop at a time.

Groundhog wild

Comparisons between Rue Valley and Disco Elysium are obvious – from its presentation, to its cynical stat systems, and even its attempts to deliver similar over-the-top philosophical musings (which often fall flat). To be honest, it's not a favorable side-by-side, and it's unfortunate that's the first impression it makes, almost deliberately.

Rue Valley simply isn't a very good RPG, and I wouldn't have minded if those mechanics had been stripped away entirely. Having Eugene's character sheet focused entirely on negative traits, such as a push and pull between 'Impulsive' and 'Calculated' with stops along the way for, say, 'Paranoid' and 'Indecisive', is a unique touch. But it can also become annoying fast, with a lot of Eugene's negativity blocking off conversation choices.

Similarly, it can feel negative as a player to encounter barriers like this – which, yes, is part of the point of playing a character grappling with all these issues – but it just becomes irksome and can feel very binary. None of these traits are weaved in as elegantly as Disco Elysium's. With fewer true branches as well, Rue Valley awkwardly has to juggle these without getting in the way of the most straightforward plot that's playing out, making them feel redundant anyway.

I grumble a bit here only to set expectations. Despite borrowing a lot from Disco Elysium, Rue Valley isn't truly playing in the same arena, and is best approached with that in mind. Once the plot kicks off and you and Eugene get used to the idea of being in a time loop, this golden middle chunk of play becomes a wonderful adventure game all about poking at the edges of time looping possibilities and knowledge gathering. Less Harry DuBois, and more depressed Guybrush Threepwood, please – there are some solid Monkey Island style adventure gaming hooks to be had in Rue Valley.

With an investigation-style mindmap, Eugene keeps track of the consistent parts of each near-hour loop of his exploration of the titular valley. Its residents live in the shadow of a space research facility, all while struggling to overcome mistakes of the past that have continued to haunt them, from a tangled political history of rival families, through to a tainted water supply that makes taps unsafe for use. A close knit community, everyone has connections with everyone else, and even if Eugene can only nail a few new bits of information each loop, they slowly form a bigger picture.

Early on, I find it genuinely compelling to find a place for Eugene to simply sit in each major chunk of map, resting on which meaning he can keep track of who moves where for that zone. Building a picture of the data points that are in play, then filling out why people are moving this way is a lot of fun. Especially in the middle of the game as you pull at so many threads, there's lots to nose around, and getting used to how to shortcut certain actions reflects an engaging level of mastery. Knowing just how to nab the motel keycard that unlocks a bunch of doors is a great feeling, whittling down a whole series of quests to track it down into one simple action you know how to pull off every loop. Wrangling time only as a resource and not a real-time consideration helps to feel like you're strategizing – it's similar in execution to the system I loved in my The Seance at Blake Manor review.

Getting all that knowledge in order really does form a strong middle section of Rue Valley that I'm quite fond of. It's a shame that, like the awkward beginning, it ends up coming apart at the seams by the end. With avenues of investigation pared down, it settles into a late game rhythm of having you wait around for loops to end constantly, pushing you between different furthest limits of the map in different directions repeatedly so you can only really do one thing at a time. That's the danger of a time loop – the possibilities are tantalizing, and I will treasure them, but they risk wearing you down time after time. But I'll always have fond memories of this valley, and exploring its limits.

Rue Valley is out now on PC. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

The opening to Winter Burrow is unexpectedly heartwrenching. Storybook illustrations introduce the woodland survival game by showing scenes of a little mouse and their parents. It's at once clear we're seeing the protagonist's childhood as they fondly look back on the burrow that was their parents' dream home. But after the family uproots to the city, we then discover that the mouse's mother and father couldn't survive the harsh realities of life there. Following such loss, the small rodent decides to return to the childhood burrow years later. Only, now it's fallen into a state of despair, and it's up to you to breathe life back into the place you and your parents loved.

The artwork is very adorable, but the set up is undeniably sad and it immediately captures the duality of the experience. Because as cozy and cute as the experience is – from knitting on an armchair to baking pies – this is still at its heart a survival game; albeit a very approachable, laid back one. With the cold temperatures to contend with, an empty home to restore, and characters to meet who are going through their problems of their own, I've found myself quite taken by the slightly dark, bittersweet undercurrents lurking beneath the comfy Wind and Willows vibes of developer Pine Creek Game's adventure.

Mouse in the house

The rundown burrow is in need of some serious TLC. All the amenities in the room are in need of repair, including the likes of an armchair and a broken stove. But the first task to fulfil is to make my very own axe at the crafting table. Of course, this will require resources, so I set off in search of twigs, flax fiber, and pebbles in the great outdoors. It immediately feels quite close to the likes of Don't Starve, with a warmth and hunger meter to keep an eye on as I venture outside.

I learn all too quickly that to start out with, going too far away from my burrow is not the best idea, with the cold steadily starting to form an icy frame around the screen after I spend too long exploring. Should my warmth meter completely deplete, health will start to take a hit, and that's when it's time to flee back to the fireplace heating my burrow.

Plus, without a map to use – which did cause me to lose my way quite a few times – I have to rely on my own lay of the land to find my little home again. So, I decided not to get overly ambitious in the first hour and stay close to home. As I progress, I start to really get my bearings in the woodland area surrounding the burrow, and even start using my own tiny footprints in the snow as breadcrumbs to lead me back home when I need to deposit things I've foraged or get warmed up.

Everything is immediately very easy to get a hang of, with the initial repair jobs setting me up nicely for the way it all works. Once I make an axe, for example, I then set my sights on repairing the stove so I can fill my hungry belly. Each time you come across something to restore or an item you want to craft at the table, you can helpfully select it to track as a quest, which brings up the resources you need on screen like a checklist.

Woodland world

The more I restore in my burrow, the longer I can stay outside and venture further. Bringing the cozy armchair back to its former glory lets me settle down and knit some new clothes to protect me against the cold, and my stove opens up a roster of recipes for dishes I can make with nearby resources that will help stave off my hunger, and give me some additional buffs that can protect against the low temperatures, or make my axe more effective for a short time.

The latter buff certainly comes in handy when I come across my first real threat in the shape of an angry ant. Some of the critters you encounter in the woodland outside of the burrow will attack you, but you can easily fight back with your axe. They also drop meat that can be used for food, with the ant said to be citrusy in flavor (can't say it looks very appetizing, though).

Before long, I find myself repairing a bridge and visiting my Aunty, who didn't know about my parents and at once tries to make up for it by teaching me new recipes and offering useful advice. But when things take a turn and I have to help my Aunty out instead, the world opens up to me even more.

The more I craft and discover, the further into the woodland I can go, with campfires offering little pockets of warm safety away from my burrow if I venture further out. And as I come to new areas, more resources are available to me, not to mention some fresh faces who I have to help out and in turn be helped by. What strikes me most about the characters I meet as this intrepid little mouse is that they're all going through something in this cold, wintry world, and just like you, are trying to make the best of it and survive.

From a toad who's clearly harboring some familial regrets, to a squirrel who's seemingly been pushed out of his huddle in the winter, there's an underlying feeling of isolation surrounding Winter Burrow and the characters you briefly meet along your journey. Just as the protagonist is trying to reclaim the safety and comfort of a home that was once a place of warmth and love, others in the woodland are also trying to find where they belong in this cold environment. At least, that's the feeling I've gotten so far.

It's not an overly-long experience, all told, and survival veterans won't find anything new here, but I love the overall look and feel of Winter Burrow's setting, as well as the bittersweet sentiment at the heart of the experience. It's also undeniably cozy in its own way too, and if you're after something to warm you up this winter, well, the clue's right there in the name.

Winter Burrow is out now on PC, Xbox Series X/S, and Switch. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

What makes small-town Americana so scary? Perhaps it's the fear of trouble in paradise – think Laura Palmer's murder in Twin Peaks, or the deep-seated evil lurking beneath Bright Falls in Alan Wake. But both examples are also set against vast natural backdrops, where civilization's foothold feels tenuous at best. Where mother nature casts a long shadow, trees blot out streetlights until you're left in the darkness – and that weight brings its own sort of primal dread.

Radiolight, a thriller from developer Krystof Knesl, understands this feeling well. Set in 1985, you play as Ethan – a police officer for the town of Ashwood Creek, where a teenage boy has gone missing in its national park. When a second person goes missing, Ethan is sent out into Ashwood Creek National Park in the dead of night to look for them – and as someone who loves nature but struggles with horror, I hate that Radiolight's investigative hook was strong enough to keep me tip-toeing beneath the trees.

Under the sycamore trees

Radiolight doesn't get too heavy immediately. It begins in the safety of civilization, where Ethan's biggest problems are having too few beers in the fridge and a teenage daughter with an overly loud boombox. Though Radiolight isn't advertised as a horror game, there's an immediate sense of standing on the edge. I'm not surprised when the housephone begins to ring in its cradle, nor when answering it cuts to Ethan driving into the darkness of Ashwood Creek National Park an hour later.

What I am surprised by is the tranquility. There's a heaviness, yes – imagine the feeling of walking deep into woods and realizing for the first time that you can no longer hear cars – but Radiolight appreciates the appeal of this silence. It's relaxing being alone in the woods, even on a dark and foggy night such as this, but eventually Radiolight twists your boundaries of safety. You start to feel more comfortable in the darkness of the trail, with only your dim flashlight, than beneath the warm electric bulb glow of the ranger's cabin further along – its light failing to make a dent in the forest's shadows, creating a sense of standing under a spotlight for an audience you can't see.

The investigative elements to Radiolight are fairly tame. There are lots of clues and objects to interact with, though doing so rarely tells you where to go next. Your main tool is the ability to call in relevant details to your dispatcher via radio, and while the voice on the other side is rarely helpful in a practical sense, I'm often just grateful to have a thread to the outside world to cling to. Still, for a horror coward like myself, it's not always enough. A boombox left upon a picnic table changes frequency by itself, a voice hidden in the static, and upon revisiting an empty boathouse I passed near the trail's car park, its lights are on and muddy footprints streak through to the office.

There are scares – which I won't spoil – that are less subtle as Radiolight goes on, but it never gets unbearable. Instead, imagination is my own worst enemy – Radiolight leaves you to stew in its tension, to the point where I found myself inching away from my monitor, terrified my flashlight would turn up something I wouldn't want to see. Sometimes, it does.

While Radiolight is certainly more horror-leaning than it may initially cop to, it's surprisingly confident in the way it cuts you loose in the woods. You're there to find two missing people, free to read into clues and follow hunches as you see fit. Navigating with a handheld map, you can follow ranger-approved trails or head off the beaten track when necessary, with the game only occasionally blocking you off from certain routes until it's ready for you to go that way.

Even then, player-guiding is subtle, and Ashwood Creek National Park is so dense that you'll often spot something new while combing through the same place twice. It plays with that repetition in interesting ways, too: I've already mentioned the boathouse, but in a separate instance I broke a window to get inside a cabin only for it to fix itself when I turned around – something I originally prescribed to the game's solo dev scope, until Ethan said what I was thinking out loud. Chills!

If you've got the guts to go down to the woods today, I'd recommend swinging by Ashwood Creek. Like the Americana greats before it, Radiolight understands that there are few things as anxiety-inducing as feeling very small beneath the pines. Once again, my mind returns to Twin Peaks. The woods are wondrous here, but strange.

Radiolight is available on Steam. If you enjoyed this, check out our Indie Spotlight for more games that may have flown under your radar

Someone's coming… that's what they do. Night after night, before the morning sun gets hotter than I've ever known. They bare their perfect, platinum teeth and make me feel small and dirty in comparison – but I think that's the kind of feeling you have to submit to when playing a game as uncomfortably poignant as No, I'm not a Human.

The darkly funny narrative-driven game from developer Trioskaz and Mouthwashing publisher Critical Reflex is also a poem to Armageddon; it's a one-to-three hour experience that lets you quickly meditate on good and mundane evil while it's all still relevant. The end of the world is coming, and it's best experienced on an empty stomach. You will do bad things.

Here we go again

The world makes you bad, No, I'm not a Human implies. In the game, the sun is on the verge of exploding, scorching everything it touches during the day. It's unleashed what TV reporters are calling "Visitors," creatures nearly indistinguishable from humans that have dug themselves out of the torched earth to knock, with strange politeness, at people's doors. I need to decide if I want to let them in or not – but there's more to consider than just my silverware.

Visitors are eager to kill humans and leave them portioned up in greasy garbage bags, I quickly discover after making the mistake of letting one of these imposters in. He killed a little girl and left her in my kitchen. I don't know, he seemed nice at first. Big smile. I wish he would have gotten rid of the guy in the "Amogus" t-shirt instead – like, who owns an Amogus t-shirt?

This swirl of regret and homicidal urges is how No, I'm not a Human will try to lead you by the bloodstained hand to what I think is its subtle goal. Like Junji Ito-inspired apocalypse horror game World of Horror, No, I'm not a Human coaxes its players to consider the truth of monstrosity: Is it a condition reserved for strangers? Or can anyone become one if the temperature is right, and the need is there?

Monster mash

Like many people, including me, the nameless No, I'm not a Human protagonist would rather not think about it. Gun in his hand, beer in his fridge, he just wishes everyone would leave him alone, like he's used to. Hey, lady, get your tarot cards off the kitchen table!

"Loneliness & Isolation!" cheerfully reads a poster on one of his walls. In any case, the apocalypse has given all its survivors the same task, and I am not exempt. So I use my protagonist's limited energy points to check whatever I allow in my home for signs of Visitor-ness – things like an impeccable set of teeth, red eyes, a moldy aura.

But, here we are, back to moral anguish: I don't always know what to do when I identify them. I could use my gun and shoot my houseguests in the head, though I feel guilty when I realize I incorrectly profiled someone and murdered them for being annoying, not a Visitor.

Then there are irritating social politics to consider, even as the world outside burns. Some people I let in my house won't enter unless I kick out whoever their enemy is. Government agents keep showing up and kidnapping people from my home, depleting my strength-in-numbers and making me paranoid about who's responsible for societal collapse. Us or them? Is there a difference? Why is this man trying to bribe me with cat food?

Trick-or-treat

I trick myself into feeling momentarily removed from responsibility, because No, I'm not a Human smartly takes place entirely inside its protagonist's neat, but joyless, home. But the more I peek through his windows and witness things I don't want to see… things like a human who wears ripped teeth like a beaded necklace, a pale Visitor with three saggy chins menace me with a severed head in my front yard, my neighbor's house is on fire, his daughter lost, lost, lost… I know I'm a part of it.

Me, the person, not the player. No, I'm not a Human can be a bleak game, and each of my playthroughs reinforces the idea that everything – questions, choices, even little germs of faith – is painful. From the subtle dread of the No, I'm not a Human protagonist's empty bedroom, to the obvious threat that is the heat death of the very Universe, pain prickles the gaps between.

But then there are other things that slip through, like resolve, and a sense of humor. There might even be a lesson – it's better to be kind than afraid, or sometimes not even tarot knows why you're here. These sprinkles of faith and mystery make No, I'm not a Human a one of the most interesting games of the year, as well as a uniquely moving horror game, much like Critical Reflex's cult hits Mouthwashing and Buckshot Roulette. You need to play it to believe it.

No, I'm Not A Human is out now on PC. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

As I drag my little skeleton train across a checkered board in Spooky Express, a track starts to appear that mirrors my movement. With a zombie waiting on a platform nearby, I have to map out the track in such a way that I can pick up my undead passenger, deliver him to his grave, and also reach the adjoining track on the other side. It's a puzzling conundrum, since I only have a set amount of space to lay down my track, and I can't loop back on myself. But it's undeniably pleasing when my zombie is safely tucked up in the dirt, and I'm on my merry way to pick up more monsters.

As a conductor who has to plan out the routes for the only rail service in Trainsylvania that caters to the undead, it at times feels like I'm mapping out my own on-the-rails amusement park ride. From picking up vampires, demons, and zombies, to trying to scare away human passengers with the creepy commuters I already have on board, there are so many puzzle challenges to work my way through, and I love how many adorably spooky interactions I uncover as I try to figure out the solutions for levels. Complete with a charming artstyle and lots of different thematic locations, Drakenk and Friend's isometric puzzler is helping my horror-averse self really get in the mood for the Halloween season.

All aboard

I'll be the first to admit I'm not the most adept or practiced player when it comes to the puzzle genre, which is why I immediately appreciate how approachable Spooky Express is. As you try to map out your tracks to pick up passengers and reach the track that lets you exit out on the other side of the level, you move your train forward to create a track, and backwards should you want to undo it. If you get too far and realize you can't reach the exit or the passengers, you can reset the level with the click of a button. This essentially means you can experiment until you figure out the solution.

Some levels can be real head-scratchers, though, with one early level upping the ante by involving multiple vampires to pick up and deliver to their coffins, along with a zombie. Each one is placed at different points on the isometric board. I spend a while moving back and forth, seeing if I can find the solution myself, but soon I find myself getting a bit stuck. Thankfully, there's also a very helpful hint system. When you use it, a partial piece of transparent green track appears to show you that you have to set down a track there in order to solve the level. It's a very welcome touch that proves to make life much easier for puzzle novices like me.

While you'll unlock more levels each time you complete one, I also love the fact that you can actually unlock all available levels within the in-game menu. So, should I get stuck on one, I can pop out and try another one until I feel ready to return to the one that stumped me. It's actually a great way to ensure I can experience all the game has to offer without being locked behind my own ability to find solutions.

And there are an impressive number of puzzle challenges on offer here, too, with a sizable map packed full of different levels set across various spooky locations. From pumpkin patch pitstops to dark, demon-summoning spaces, and creepy forests, I love how much variety is on offer, and how changing levels keep things feeling fresh as you try to complete more train routes.

The amusement park feel really comes to life for me, though, thanks to the little interactions you can come across as you try to find solutions. At one point, for instance, I had two demon passengers on board, and thanks to some wrong moves on my part, they both passed by a human interloper waiting on a platform. While the first caused the poor person to jump with fright, the second demon ended up burning them to a crisp. Then, when I was trying to get some vampires back to their coffins, another human unfortunately got the kiss of death, with my route bringing the fanged fiend in close proximity to their neck.

Sure, it's unfortunate for the humans, but these events did earn me some achievements, so their momentary sacrifice at the hands of my puzzle solution attempts was completely worth it. There's evidently a lot of thought put behind the many levels you can work through, and it also succeeds at feeling very welcoming for the most unseasoned of players.

If you're looking for something to play this Halloween season (and you're a scaredy cat like me), you absolutely should get on board with the Spooky Express. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got some more undead to track down.

Spooky Express is out now on PC, iOS, and Android. Get more recommendations in our Indie Spotlight series.

For the first 10 minutes of Strange Antiquities, I just look at everything. The shelves of the candle-lit shop are already filled with oddities. There's a lot to take in, including a vial full of glowing blue, a small wooden stag statue, a shriveled human hand with a swirl of gold on one finger, and a pendant with a green eye that's definitely looking around as much as I am. I'm obsessed, and I've not even opened the door to a single customer yet.

If you've played the original game, Strange Horticulture, you'll know that this isn't just a shop. While on the surface, yes, it's a place where people come to buy goods, there's a darkness and a curiosity here that makes this one of the best puzzle games I've played since Blue Prince. This little shop is equal parts a library and a puzzle box. Customers come in with specific needs, whether that's something more lighthearted like wanting to have better eyesight to get back into painting to something more sinister, like trying to cure the blackened eye syndrome that's taking over the town. Curses, spirits, and other evocations are a constant in this town, but it's on you to figure out how to help the townsfolk.

Horror tomes

You'll get either a request for an effect or a specific artifact from your denizens, but from there it's over to you. Over the course of the game, you'll gain a number of books that will help you track down the item you'll need. The Strange Artefacts Guide to Occult Objects will essentially become your bible, as it lists out the names of the items and what they can do to help - or hinder. You can narrow down your search from the visual description of the item or potentially the image accompanying the outline, although it definitely won't ever just be a picture of the thing you need. One clue I had was that an object was about the same weight as a human heart, which was a note in another book or scrap of paper I'd found. Suddenly, the weighing scales on the counter made sense.

Another book might give you a guide to gemstones and their powers, while another lists out hermetic symbols, which will come in more handy than you'd think. It's like unlocking a new language, figuring out what the clues are within the notes, and then applying them to the items lining your shelves.

Handily, you can examine all the objects too, from checking out their color and composition to find out what they're made of, to how they feel, smell, or sound, or even how they make you feel. Nothing like picking up something that you immediately want to put down again to give you a sense that it might not be an item used for the good of mankind. But again that's a choice you also have to make. Sometimes you might get suggestions that two different items might solve a customer's problem - one just might have some… side-effects.

Explore or fail

Part of the puzzle box that is Strange Antiquities is actually finding the items that aren't yet on your shelves. You'll be given clues at the end of each day, as well as from some patrons, that you can solve by exploring the town of Undermere, or even specific locations within it. A scrap of paper with half a letter, a playing card with an odd shape marked in gold, a mention of a statue and a pointing finger, there's so much variety here. I desperately don't want to spoil any puzzle solutions, but some of the ways you unlock new items are so satisfying in a way that makes you feel really clever. Always a boon for any puzzle game. Between deduction and detective work there's so much to love about the way Strange Antiquities presents the problem-solving to be done.

And of course there's the shop itself. The minute you step inside, there's a cabinet over to the left that's locked behind a metal grill with a very obvious keyhole. Another secret panel is hidden behind a crank wheel, clearly missing an amulet of some kind to place inside Indiana Jones-style.

Before long, you're starting to add little tags marking out the items that now have names and associated powers. You start to get a bit more confident, understanding how the books relate to each other, and wading deep in the murky stories and mysteries that are plaguing Undermere. As much as Strange Antiquities is all about the puzzles, it's also about discovering the locals and what the heck is going on. With so much clearly at stake, it's so easy to get lost in this game. And I highly recommend that you do.

Strange Antiquities is out now on Switch and PC via Steam. To see what else we've been enjoying, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

Consume Me opens with a content warning for its depiction of disordered eating, dieting, and fatphobia for good reason. As Jenny struggles to juggle the pressures of her life as she navigates her final year of high school and applying for college, her relationship with dieting is inescapable. Far from your only task, the constant drumbeat of the diet serves to underscore how it makes everything else harder, too.

The dieting isn't just inescapable thematically, but mechanically. From slotting together Tetris-like blocks of varying calorie-like Bites, to simply balancing time spent on the likes of dating and studying with ensuring you keep up with a workout routine to keep you under your limit. Do you lose energy staying up later to both study and workout, making the next day harder? Or do you drop one by the wayside which may have different knock-on effects later? Consume Me is a pitch-perfect blend of narrative and gameplay, making it standout as one of my favorite games of the year.

Free time!?

Consume Me might sound dour, and it certainly can be heavy. But, more often than not, it's laugh out loud funny with a wonderful sense of humor. Semi-autobiographical, it's clear that developer Jenny Jiao Hsia isn't afraid to inject a bit of dark comedy into Consume Me's experiences.

Slotting Tetris-like bits of food onto a plate is evocative of the mindgames of watching what you eat, but the gamification is sometimes lampshaded by Jenny's wonderful little pupper who can appear to bounce around the edge of the screen, allowing you to offload one possible food item into its waiting mouth. Feed it cheese, and it'll bring back a bonus item you can use mid-event. You can also complete various chores to earn pocket money from your demanding mother. Clean the bathroom, and she'll lean in close to investigate its tidiness, an overly long arm sliding across the surface to check for dust.

An almost papercraft art style allows for some wonderfully expressive character art that comes through in the mini-games, which you can do in Jenny's free time – all making progress on the many, many bars that make up her life goals (which shift between each chapter). Read a book and Jenny's head spins 360-degrees, forcing you to mash the mouse button to concentrate when it matches up with the held book while avoiding. Aerobics has you ragdoll her limbs to match and hold poses. Walking your dog has you spinning one another on a lead in an effort to avoid poo while snatching dropped dollars off the street. One makeout scene has the characters' limbs tangle on and off screen implausibly like Scooby Doo. You can't not pop a smile.

All of these mini-games are incredibly fast-paced, almost Wario Ware like, stopping any one section from dominating. Instead, Consume Me is built around the macro-game of managing Jenny's free time. You never have quite enough to do everything as neatly as you'd like, and there's always an impending deadline to sweat over from getting your college application together to acing the first family dinner at your boyfriend's house. You have to juggle all of Jenny's needs like happiness, energy, and, of course, guts, to manage even more bars – you've got put in the work if you want to level up, erm, chores. Even so, Consume Me never overwhelms, presenting everything cleanly enough to be easy to understand. Fail, and you can restart a chapter while still leveling up as well.

Consume Me nudges you to game the system a bit the further you get into it, but most come at the cost of draining another meter instead. Pushing your bedtime later, as I mentioned above, gives more free time at the cost of energy. You can meditate to gain more energy at the cost of guts. Save money on makeup by doing it using free samples at the store, but again requiring guts. Likewise, outfits can give buffs to various activities, but will need to be washed by doing laundry to use again another day (run out of fits and your stinky struggle clothes will decrease both your happiness and energy to wear).

It does mean that a canny game master such as myself can discover some almost infinite loops to create some absurdly long days – such as combining an ungodly amount of coffee with an outfit that can make many exercises take up zero time. But it increases the risk of Jenny suffering a happiness decimating caffeine headache, and is even nodded towards with some combo-rewarding side goals. After all, despite the sense of pressure Consume Me evokes with its calendar of tasks, this isn't a game that wants to push you away.

Just when I thought the game was becoming too easy, the final chapter neatly subverts and even inverts some mechanical expectations. I'll avoid spoiling anything but oof, sometimes you can take living at home for granted, huh? The only place Consume Me struggles is with its ending – perhaps due to its semi-autobiographical status, the buildup throughout the game doesn't quite know where to go and just sort of dissipates across a somewhat lengthy epilogue that is, at the very least, fairly cozy.

In fact, Consume Me as a whole is consistently warm despite the heavy topics it tackles. Obviously, some may still find its topics a bit much if it resurfaces memories you'd rather left forgotten. But, Consume Me's tone is fantastic, as is the way it merges those narrative themes with smartly judged mechanics is a true marvel of game design. Only a few hours long, you owe it to yourself to experience the powers of deploying pocket cheese at the perfect moment.

Consume me is out now on PC. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

It might be pitched as a "cozy self-co-op" horror game, but Gloomy Eyes is darker than you think. Playing through a series of head-scratching environmental puzzles is just the start, using my left Xbox joystick and the A and B buttons to solve them, but what lies beneath is a sobering tale of friendship, humanity, and how magic can be found in the dreariest of places.

Gloomy is a little zombie boy. Nena is a human girl. In a world where humans hunt zombies, forcing them to live in shadows and slink beneath the radar, the pair must navigate their way carefully on their hunt to find the sun. Between the zombie hunters on the prowl for Gloomy and Nena's fearmongering "Priest" uncle keeping a watchful eye on her, the pair have quite a journey ahead. It's just as well, then, that Gloomy Eyes is a heartwarming delight in the most bonechilling way.

Screamwork

I know: that's a lot of body parts and temperatures. But in a game about zombies, I think it's pretty apt.

Our leading boy Gloomy is integral to the story, but so is Nema, since Gloomy Eyes functions as a puzzle game you play with yourself. Once each character is unlocked, you'll be able to swap between the two at given moments to help solve puzzles, using each character's unique traits to exploit the environment around you.

Gloomy, as a zombie, is sensitive to electricity. Standing in a pool of electricity-powered light for even a couple of seconds will make him pass out, and you'll have to restart from a checkpoint. Similarly, Nema needs to stay clear of lingering zombies and make sure she doesn't get too close, lest they grab her. A neat little circle around each danger alerts you of the wide berth you must take, which means that every so often, there's no way around a given hazard for either character. That's where the puzzling comes in.

While controlling each protagonist, the goal is to help the other progress through the puzzle by removing dangers. For Gloomy, this usually amounts to moving heavy things, throwing heavy things (mostly at lampposts), and generally shifting the playing field to help Nema stay away from zombies.

Meanwhile, Nema can turn generators off and on to help Gloomy pass brightly lit areas safely, as well as climb ladders, branches, and other things requiring a more nimble human touch. Swapping characters is as easy as hitting the Y button, and you can even get a wide view of a given puzzle map by pressing the windows button to help plan ahead.

Both of them need to watch out for Cultists – aka, zombie hunters who work for Nema's Priest uncle – who can sometimes be found prowling in the darkness in ghostly hoods, holding lanterns. These sections remind me a lot of Shadow Gambit or other Mimimi Games titles like Desperados 3 in that they're highly stealth-puzzle oriented, though there's no real-time combat to worry about this time!

Little nightmares

While environmental puzzling sits at the core of Gloomy Eyes, it's impossible to ignore the sumptuous world building. The Tim Burton inspirations are palpable, from its baleful wide-eyed protagonists to the claymation art style, and everything is peppered with an aura of macabre wonder.

Each map is cleverly laid out like a small island of interconnected pathways – most of them blocked off unless you do something about it. An example is the mine, used by the Cultists as a place to amass materials for zombie hunting, where Gloomy and Nema must search for two battery cells to power up a generator and get one of the mine carts working.

Nema can leap about to her heart's content to reach the generator itself, but Gloomy needs to venture down into the Cultists' sleeping quarters to throw a brick at a bell, hide in a log, summon a Cultist into the other room to investigate the noise, and grab the battery cell before he gets back.

The mine itself is a cool puzzle area, but my favorite so far has to be Gloomy's treehouse – his home.

This giant, bioluminescent willow tree is surrounded by glowing flora and fauna, from glittering flowers to vivid green-yellow waters, all wound through an endless tangle of roots. I didn't mind getting turned around a few times just so I could pore over each petal and bushel, letting myself get swept away by the storybook-style narration (courtesy of the unseen Gravekeeper) and gentle piano music underscoring my climb.

It's moments like these that make Gloomy Eyes truly memorable. Puzzle games have a tendency to get frustrating, but here, I'm too busy being transfixed by the world around me to get annoyed by the odd dead end. This game is the perfect way to kick off Halloween month – especially when Silent Hill f gets a little intense and I need a brain break – so if you're hunting for this season's cutest, creepiest little indie gem, I think you've found it.

With so many upcoming indie games on the horizon, this handy list will help you keep track.

I know I'm far from alone in wistfully imagining an alternate life where I pack everything in and move to some picturesque, welcoming town to open my own little bookshop. The very idea of it has only gotten more idyllic thanks to romance novels and cozy slice-of-life dramas that have that exact plot. Of course, real life is no hallmark movie, and with no business experience, or the means to open a shop of my own, it is but a pipedream.

So that's why I'm eternally grateful that developer neoludic's management life sim, Tiny Bookshop, exists. Not only is it letting me live out this ultimate fantasy, but it's doing it in an incredibly enjoyable and satisfying way. After leaving everything behind, the game sees me arrive in a lovely seaside town, where I can go from place to place selling second-hand books in my compact, mobile store, which is attached to the back of my car (a bit like a trailer).

From planning what area I'll hit to complete one of my side objectives, to trying to make enough sales and save up some money in time for the flea market, there's so much I want to accomplish for my small business. But there are also a lot of locals I want to work to get to know better, too. And that gets to the heart of what makes Tiny Bookshop such a surprising delight in terms of the amount of depth it has. There's plenty to work towards, discover, and unlock in this supremely laid back management experience that absolutely deserves all the praise it's been getting.

Bookish bonding

My first day in my new dream life sees me learn the ropes as I set up my shop at the waterfront – which is the very first location you can sell books in. With the chance to change up the store's paint job and set down the one and only bookcase I own, I'm then free to organize the second-hand books I have in stock. Everything is immediately easy to get to grips with, and I at once appreciate how simple and effective the controls are when it comes to organizing and decorating my store and its shelves.

I only have a small selection of titles to begin with, but all of the books are helpfully separated by genre, and each one is a different color — with everything from the likes of crime (red) and fantasy (purple), to a kids section (green) and travel tomes (blue). After I'm all set up, I sit back and watch as customers start to pop into my portable treasure trove of page-turners, and begin adding them to their shopping bags to purchase.

As I come to learn later on, several factors will determine what kind of genres will sell the most — such as the various locations you can pull up shop in which attract different clientele, to the items you can find or buy to decorate your store with, which can increase the appeal of a certain kind of book. Since my shop is, after all, tiny, I have limited space to house my books, so it really pays to think about what genres I should fill the shelves with based on where I am and what decorations I've set down.

During my first stint as a bookseller at the waterfront, I'm greeted by a kind, retired woman called Tilde who welcomes me to the town, before asking me for a favor. This kicks off my very first side-quest objective, which sees me hold onto some old furniture and bring it with me to a new location, which just so happens to be the local flea market that opens on Saturdays.

As I progress, I meet many more locals, who in turn invite me to new places where I can go to sell books. Each character has their own stuff going on and their own particular questlines to fulfill, such as a musician who's looking for some inspiration, to a kid who wants to collect shells. Both their tasks and their presence at my store brings so much added depth to the experience, with more objectives to work towards outside of my shop that comes with the added incentive of getting to know each person better.

Reading recommendations

It doesn't take long for me to feel like I've started to become a part of the community through my store, not just in the way I can help others through their requests, but also through the work I do as a bookseller. That's mostly down to the fact that every and now and then, someone who's browsing may ask for help finding a particular kind of book, and it's up to me to sift through the shelves to find the perfect recommendation.

The customers only give you certain clues, though, such as a genre or element they particularly enjoy, or are keen to learn more about. Every request has a difficulty star rating attached to it based on what they're hoping to find among your limited stock. Sometimes that means it can pay to think outside of the box, and offer up a recommendation that may cater to what they're asking for, even if it sits outside of their preferred genre or reading habits.

The local quest givers I'm getting to know can also ask for recommendations, and I've started to get a read on the kinds of books they love, which is helping to inform my picks for them and make me feel like I'm really starting to bond with these characters through the written word.

Outside of my shopkeeping and my objectives, I can also look around a location when I've set up there by scrolling left or right on the screen on either side of the store. There's plenty to click on and engage with in every area, and sometimes I even stumble upon a discarded item that can be used as a decoration in my shop, or find a point of interest that unlocks something new. Along with other shop owners who are willing to sell me something useful, these added touches make this town come to life, and it adds an extra layer of discovery.

When I'm not playing Tiny Bookshop, I find myself thinking about it constantly, which really says it all. I can't wait to see how my shop grows and what I'll learn about the local customers who breathe so much life into this wonderful management sim. I may not be able to open up a book shop in reality, but at least I have one of the most enjoyable indies I've played this year to fill that void.

Tiny Bookshop is out now on PC and Switch. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

Back at Summer Game Fest 2023, I tried to get my hands on basically every possible game I could at the event. This meant plenty of smaller titles, and many have come and gone since then, but few have occupied the same amount of headspace in the years since as Henry Halfhead, a sandbox puzzle game from developer Lululu Entertainment about the life of half a head named Henry that can possess objects.

Yes, you heard that correctly; Henry Halfhead's protagonist is Henry, and he's half a head. Mechanically, this means he can't really… interact with much. He can hop on top of things or bump into them, but that's the extent of it. But with the push of a button, Henry can inhabit objects ranging from bushes to pots to batteries to paper – and these all have their own sort of rules.

For example, if you inhabit a tube of paint, you can shoot bits of paint out of it until it's squeezed empty. You can then jump out of the paint tube and inhabit the little squirts of paint itself to roll around and color. You can also, instead, choose to eat the nubs of paint. Or paint and then eat. There is also actual food like tomatoes and pasta and apples to be eaten, but Henry Halfhead isn't in the business of telling you what you can't do.

Critical path

Not to say there isn't some direction. The overall brief narrative – about two or three hours worth of it – follows Henry's life from the time he's a baby all the way to the end. There are certain tasks required to move on like tearing a page from a calendar or walking home or similar, but everything between is up to you, the player.

And that's where Henry Halfhead really shines. It's a bit reminiscent of the initial feeling that Scribblenauts gave me all those years ago, with constant experimentation leading to delightful surprises. When I eat an apple and a seed pops out, can I plant that seed? What happens if I water it? If I plug in the toaster and jump into a sink full of water, what happens? (You can guess what happens.)

In fact, this playful creativity is absolutely supported by the game's narrative despite the task-oriented nature. I won't spoil exactly what happens here given how brief the story is overall, but just know that the delightful absurdity of its premise – half a head possessing various inanimate objects – while still trying to live a life is a core struggle that resolves in a satisfying way.

Joy to create

At its best, Henry Halfhead is a series of scenarios beginning with "Can I do that?" and then doing that. Most of the narrative scenarios are fairly straightforward and simplistic, but a couple of them right in the middle absolutely cut loose and let you really play with a number of different objects in different ways for a lengthy period of time. I don't want to talk about how long I tried (and failed) to make spaghetti in a toilet, but it does seem worth mentioning that I did try.

And this was all while playing on my own. Henry Halfhead also features local co-op, letting two players cause twice as much chaos or solve puzzles twice as fast. Or both! More than once, it occurred to me that having a second half a head zooming about might add up to a single full head and make everything a bit more convenient. Maybe I'd have even sorted out my toilet spaghetti; a man can dream.

Henry Halfhead is out now on PS5, Nintendo Switch, and PC. To see what other indie gems we've been enjoying lately, be sure to check out our Indie Spotlight series.

If there's any universal truth in the world of video gaming, it's this: Tetris is the perfect video game. With that in mind, the question about Drop Duchy isn't "Why would you combine Tetris with Civilization?" so much as it is "Why hasn't anyone else combined Tetris with Civilization before?" Drop Duchy can't match the impeccably brilliant design of its obvious inspirations, but these great tastes do nonetheless taste great together.

At the most basic level, a round of Drop Duchy takes place on a 7x11 grid, and you guide tetramino shapes from the top of the grid until they settle on a resting place at the bottom. The difference between this and Tetris is that the blocks are made up of various terrain types, like fields, forests, and mountains, and making a complete line rewards you with relevant resources, like food, wood, and stone. Complete multiple lines at once? That's a bonus to your resource stock.

Decked out

You also build your own deck of blocks that get shuffled into the queue with all the terrain, and most of the resources you gather will be spent upgrading these buildings. There are wood clearers that can turn forests into plains while giving you lumber, or farms that turn plains into farms for bonus food. You'll quickly see how these systems can stack with each other, letting you put together an engine that turns vast forests into food-producing machines.

These rounds are tied together with an overworld map that lets you choose between destinations with a vague preview of what's in store. If you're all in on farms, you might want to head to an area that's heavy on plains, or if you've got a loadout full of shepherds and stone quarries, it's probably better to get to the mountains to maximize your resource gathering.

But not all the lands you reach are peaceful. Some rounds will shuffle enemy garrisons, each of which has its own particular rules, into the block queue, and you'll need to place them yourself while putting down military structures of your own. Your watchtower gains archers from being placed among plains and fields, but so will enemy watchtowers, which means you have to be careful not to build that terrain such that you have to put the bad guys down where they'll get bonus units.

Each round culminates in a rock-paper-scissors-plus-math fight between every unit on the field. If I send my 25 archers against the enemy's 20 archers, I'll be left with 5 after the battle – those 5 are then going to be utterly destroyed by the 5 swordfighters the enemy still has left, unless I combine them with my axe battlers first. A smaller force will take on the unit type of any larger force it combines with, so 15 archers and 20 swordfighters will, together, become 35 swordfighters.

You can see how this kind of math starts to add up – pun intended – and this end-of-round skirmish is probably my least favorite part of the loop. There's no onscreen indication of how the numbers will come out as you draw up your battle plan, and the only way to see the results is by letting it all play out. All the math is simple enough that you can work it out with a notepad nearby, but I just don't want to put in the effort to figure out 'is 23 plus 59 times 1.5 enough to beat an enemy force of 125 and how many will be leftover' all that often.

Luckily, the math is made pretty much redundant with effective terrain and building placement during the round – 'big number beat small number' is simple enough for my English-degree-having brain to understand – and this is the heart of what makes Drop Duchy fun. Setting up an effective deck, placing terrain in preparation for lucky drops of your best buildings, and keeping the enemy barracks off in an ineffective corner is a satisfying challenge whose charm still hasn't dissipated for me, even after numerous runs.

Those runs are fairly short, as you can easily reach the final boss – which I still haven't managed to beat on the default difficulty – in under an hour. That's for the best, since the frequently expanding mechanical density of your deck can start to get to the edge of being too much to deal with. You get new additions to your loadout at a pretty fast rate, and if you're not constantly on top of switching out the most relevant options, you can quickly hit a disaster in the field.

Yet that level of challenge just makes the wins all the more satisfying. You can't improve on perfection, but Drop Duchy offers a meaningfully new take on the simple compulsion that defines Tetris. Dropping that line piece to finish off four rows of flawlessly placed terrain and buildings, reaping the resources and locking in my armies to utterly crush the enemy? Oh yeah, it's good to be king.

Drop Duchy is out now on PC. For more highlights, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

Somehow, I've still not yet played Balatro – the award-scooping, poker-themed indie roguelike card game – and I'm not really sure why. The combination of roguelike mechanics with deckbuilding, all contributing to racking up utterly bonkers scores sounds like the kind of strangely enrapturing gameplay that I'd love. Case in point: Vampire Survivors, which I can confirm is an absolute banger.

But then I saw that Mark Brown of Game Maker's Toolkit Fame was working on a word-based roguelike called Word Play. It's a Balatro-inspired game where rather than using cards to rack up points, you spell words using scored tiles – and as someone still somewhat committed to the daily puzzle grind, I was immediately hooked on the concept. After putting 17 hours into it, I'm surprised at just how engaging it is, keeping the simple monkey part of my brain occupied with a surprising amount of risk/reward gameplay from just letters and numbers.

Wordsmithing

Word Play's premise is simple. 16 letter tiles are handed to you at random, all with various points values á la Scrabble, and it's your job to assemble them into the highest scoring word you can find.

More tiles are drawn to refill your spent ones, and you keep playing words until you either reach the round's score threshold or run out of limited "plays" – submitting a word costs one play but you get more back at the end of a round.

It's very simple at first, and those first few word submissions make for an interesting mental testing ground. Sometimes I'd spend several minutes wracking my brain, only able to turn up something simple like "goal" or "feat", but other times decent words like "traitor" or "vitality" would be immediately obvious, making me feel like a genius.

That feeling improves even more when you realise you can stack on even more letters to massively boost your score. With some extra letters, "traitor" can become "traitorous" or "valid" can become "validates", and so on.

However, long words are a double-edged sword in Word Play, despite how obviously essential they are to easily get through rounds in as few plays as possible.

On the higher difficulties, I frequently got caught up trying to submit words that weren't too long near the end of a round to avoid wasting letters and therefore points – with no points spillover between rounds, I always think it's good an idea to submit the bare minimum to cross the line, but, upon reflection, this risk-averse approach might actually be what ruins my runs.

There's also no worse feeling than finding a colossal word that could win you an entire round in one fell swoop, only to realise you're missing one or two crucial letters, leaving you desperate to try your luck and hope they pop up in the next draw after submitting some paltry word. I once held two Z tiles with a diamond upgrade that made them worth over 90 points each, utterly desperate to get the letters for "bedazzling" or "embezzling". After finally getting the letters for "dazzling" I pushed my luck to no avail and ran out of plays, ending my run in a spectacular failure

Under its spell

Of course, this risk/reward playstyle is par for the course for the best roguelikes, but unlike others in the genre, Word Play can be very slow.

That's not necessarily a bad thing. Word Play's tortoise-like pacing is a breath of fresh air for me, reminding me of some of the New York Times word games that I keep coming back to. After almost feeling like I was physically out of breath playing the relentlessly intense Elden Ring: Nightreign, being able to sit back, take my time, and really ponder my approach was extremely welcome.

On some runs, I'd spend far too long trying different letter combinations because there's a surprising amount of strategy and a lot to consider for a game that is just about spelling!

I must admit that, at points, some of my letter tiles left me so stumped I was on the verge of getting a headache, and sometimes Word Plays upgrades and perks don't help as much as I'd hope.

I often found myself picking the same few perks whenever I could, like having an extra letter tile or a nice multiplier for the third letter in a submitted word. And perks like the one that fuses Q and U into a single tile sound helpful, but I found they can often be detrimental as that's one fewer tile contributing to your score.

With that said, Word Play still serves as an excellent example of how the roguelike genre can be morphed and fused to create something entirely new, building off Balatro's success at doing the same thing but with deckbuilding and poker hands. While I'm a big fan of games like Hades 2, charging through legions of foes and clobbering bosses at lightning speed with boons of the gods, Word Play is an undeniably fresh experience for me, scratching an intellectual itch for scored spelling I didn't know I had.

Check out all the upcoming indie games to watch for in 2025 and beyond once you've had your Word Play fix

When I was young, there was a field with some trees just outside of my childhood home that I used to pretend was a magical forest. It became my playground where I'd explore, watch the birds nesting there, and play out my own little imaginary escapades. As I got older, the magic of it fell away, and when I went to revisit it as an adult, I was taken back by how small the field actually is – it always felt so huge. While playing Out and About, I pined for this patch of greenery and its wonders.

The cozy foraging adventure from developer Yaldi Games instantly made me feel like I had stepped right back into that field to marvel at my natural surroundings. Only, in this virtual open-world, I get to learn so much more about the plants I so often saw growing in the woods as a kid. And better yet, I get to make dishes and useful salves out of them to help the residents of Out and About's central setting of Portobello town.

It's still in Early Access as of right now, and while there's plenty of goals to work towards, I've been happily spending a lot of my time discovering new plants and reading all about their properties. In fact, it's so satisfying to identify flora and check them off in my field guide that it's basically all I want to keep doing.

All plants great and small

At the beginning of Out and About, you get to customize your very own character. As someone who loves to spend a good amount of time in character creator suites, I'm happy to report there are a variety of sliders and styles to play around with, so you really can create whatever look you want for your forager. Once I've finally settled on my appearance, I'm introduced to the adventure by a storm that's hitting Portobello. After it unfortunately destroys the tent I'm staying in outside of town, a fellow camper called Claire hurts her hand as we venture through the nearby forest together, but thankfully a local called Barbara has a lot of herbalism know-how.

The first set of objectives tutorialize the ways of foraging as I set about searching for plants to make a dressing for Claire's wound. Thanks to her generosity, I have a camera to snap shots of plant patches so I can start searching for the right ones to fulfil my task. Looking through the camera's viewfinder, a reticule begins to flash when I'm near some flora that I haven't added to my field guide yet. Taking a picture catalogues it, with Barbara popping up to tell me a little more about my leafy discoveries. Then I can examine the plants to properly identify and harvest them.

I love that when it comes to collecting plants, there's a health bar to show you when you're taking too much away from a stem. It's one of the first ways I get a feel for the sustainable ethos of the adventure – not only should you not take too much away from nature, but anything you do take should be done so to make something useful (like a tea or salve), so nothing is wasted.

As I find more plants and catalogue them, my field guide becomes a veritable treasure trove of knowledge. I eagerly consume real-world facts about the Ribwort and Broadleaf Plantain I've just found so Barbara can make a curative for Claire's hand. Even when I've checked off the objective and I'm free to move on, I can't stop myself from taking photos of more patches so I can learn about the flora I grew up seeing – with everything from the dandelions I used to blow at to make its seed scatter into the air, to my archenemies, the stinging nettle. Despite the red angry bumps the latter would inflict on my skin during my careless adventures as a kid, I now know that they're actually packed full of vitamins (which makes sense given that folks boil them down to make stinging nettle tea).

I'm at once reminded of the museum in Animal Crossing: New Horizons, and the way the collections I worked to put together for it encouraged me to learn more about the insects, fossils, fish, and artwork within it (all of which exist in reality).

In fact, I became so obsessed with the many species of fish I'd spend hours reeling in on my island (particularly the unusual Barreleye), that I actively researched them in my free time for fun (I'm too cool, I know). And now that's translated over to plants and fungi thanks to Out and About.

Once I eventually pull myself away from learning about foliage, I set off into Portobello town to meet my granny. It becomes clear that the town has seen better days, and I'm soon tasked with using my foraging skills to gather resources to make recipes that I can sell at a market to earn currency to help fund community projects – such as clear away a tree that's blown down and blocks a path, or restoring an area.

Again, it feels like everything you can do in Out and About is all about caring for the world around you and learning more about it, and I'm curious to see how much effect I'll have on the town and its people as I progress further into the game.

So far, it's very a laidback adventure, and I'm loving how much it's teaching me about the natural world and the plants that once decorated my own "magical forest" as a kid. Plus, as a fan of collecting in games, it's tapping into that satisfying checklist feeling as I identify and tick off more plant variants for my trusty field guide. As I mentioned before, it's currently in Early Access, but I'm looking forward to seeing how it grows in the future.

Out and About is out now in Early Access on PC. For more recommendations, be sure to head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

Everything about Discounty from developer Crinkle Cut Games has been calling my name for some time now. As an avid fan of games like Stardew Valley and some of the best simulator games, I could hardly wait to step into the new life sim RPG that sees you run and manage a discount store. Now that I've actually started playing it, I'm happy to report my instincts about the pixelated adventure have been spot on. Not only is it entirely my kind of management sim, it also surprised me by having a lot more to it than first meets the eye.

In fact, when I initially arrived in the setting of Blomkest after customizing my own little shopkeeper protagonist, I quickly realized I was going to get more than I bargained for – and I mean that in the best sense. It's apparent from the get-go that there are some strange goings on in this unassuming harbor town that I've moved to in order to help run my Aunt's store. From toxic fumes and warning signs blocking the pathway to a nearby forest, to the fact that almost every shop surrounding the Discounty store I now run has closed down, shady secrets lie around every corner.

Not to mention that the residents have their fair share of drama that my nosy side wants to know more about. Before long, I get swept up in a satisfying loop of managing the store by day and trying to uncover mysteries by night. Along with quest objectives to aim for as I try to expand my shop empire, I find myself falling into the "I'll just play one more day" trap as Stardew Valley.

That's (not) a steal!

Aunt Teller, who gives you the store to run on her behalf, isn't afraid of speaking her mind. Acting as your guide in Blomkest, she's quick to say some disparaging things about many of the locals and the businesses that remain in the town, and it's clear that she has some high opinions about Discounty that I'm going to have to live up as the new manager. After setting me up in a trailer that becomes my little homestead, I'm whisked away to the Discounty store's grand opening, which my Aunt boldly says is "beacon of hope for a better, more prosperous future". So, no pressure then, Aunty.

I'm put to work the very next morning, and working with just one other employee called Grace who teaches me the ropes, it's up to me to do basically everything. The first few days are quite light touch as I learn the ins and outs of running the store. I appreciate how much freedom I have to control the layout of the shop and what stock goes where right away – from setting down the shelves and fridges wherever I like, to choosing which items should be placed down and sold.

With a limited selection to start out with, I'm almost like a little corner shop selling essentials; like toilet paper, milk, and frozen oven fries (yes, the latter is an essential, if you ask me). With a back room where our extra stock is stored, I go about filling up the shelves to my liking, and once the shop is ready to open, I simply flip the sign at the door and business is underway. It then becomes a balancing act as I maintain stock levels, ensuring that I serve customers at the till in good time, and keep the shop floors clean.

Running the cash register is akin to using a calculator, as I have to manually input the price of each item – and sometimes does some multiplication when a customer buys more than one of the same item. While it's a bit of a numbers game, it's thankfully very simple, with a catalogue on screen showing me the price of each item. Once I've rung everything up, there's something very satisfying about hitting the trigger on my PS5 controller to check them out, especially when I do it quickly and the customer expresses their satisfaction.

It's clear, though, that the prices are… not that low for a shop called Discounty. I mean, 20 coins for a single toilet roll? Talk about steep. But therein lies the beauty of running one of the only remaining stores in town – at least, that's undoubtedly what Aunt Teller thinks, who seems to do everything to encourage me to essentially have a monology over Blomkest.

Because, as it soon becomes clear, she's not satisfied with me running just one store in town and she's pretty ruthless in her pursuit. In just a matter of days, she's already pushing me to strike trade deals with other local businesses in order to get new stock – like fresh fish and oats – and after some time, she's fired poor Grace and sets me working towards purchasing a tea shop to expand her empire.

Local drama

Running the shop is satisfying in isolation, but only it gets better when a reward scheme is introduced on the computer in the back room. This essentially sets me different challenges to try to and complete during my day running the shop, like selling a certain amount of a particular item, or cleaning up a number of spills successfully. I can then redeem the reward points I earn to unlock new stock, and I immediately add chocolate bars and bread loaves to my shelves. And with bigger objectives to complete to keep expanding my supermarket chain in Blomkest, I'm completely sucked into the daily loop.

But there's also so much to do and root out in the harbor town outside of work hours. If you enjoy learning local gossip, Discounty has it in spades, from an unruly rich kid who seems to be causing problems for his parents, to a member of the council who asks me to dispose of some important documents, no questions asked, there's small-time drama and curious goings on to be found in Blomkest that drip with satirical humor. And just like my adventures in Stardew Valley and Wylde Flowers, I'm loving spending time getting to know the locals.

What's perhaps most enjoyable about Discounty, though, is that I never quite know what each new day will bring. I'm curious to see what else I'll uncover about this town and its quirky residents, or how just how savvy a schemer my Aunt really is, because I have a feeling the supermarket empire is only going to get bigger in time.

Discounty is out now on PC, Xbox Series X/S, PS5, and Switch. For more recommendations, check out our Indie Spotlight series.

Plenty of iconic boss fights have made their way to us through 2025 so far, but I'm here to tell you that none of them are as threatening as the concept of scrabbling up a cliff in the rain with your rumbling stomach echoing off the rocks around you. Peak has become an accidental phenomenon since its surprise release back in June, and it's easily one of my favorite games of the year.

The premise is simple. Having crash landed on a tropical island, you need to climb to its peak, light a signal flare, and catch the helicopter back to civilization. Unfortunately, you're a dumpy little blob of a character with dangerously wobbly ankles and a raging appetite. While your free-climbing abilities might be better than your physique would imply, it only takes one missed hold or a single hubristic climb to send you crashing into the chasm below.

Balancing act

That's all made more difficult by the fact that several environmental factors can conspire to limit your climbing capabilities. Peak throws an interesting twist on survival game hunger meters into its mix, every moment you go without food limiting the amount of stamina you can use for a successful climb. Go too long without a bite to eat, and you'll not only hear your stomach growling, but you won't be able to get as far up a cliff face or as far along a hanging rope or vine. Your friends might be able to help you up the worst of the climbs, but doing so will take the whole squad extra time, meaning that everyone else gets hungrier in the process.

And it might only get worse from there. A bad fall means you'll get injured, the resulting stamina loss only being fixed by a med kit. Getting caught in a blizzard means you risk frostbite unless you can warm up. Eating underripe fruit to sate your hunger might leave you poisoned. Even an energy drink can make you sleepy once its initial effects wear off. Peak very quickly becomes a game of balancing your resources against your limitations, maxing out on stamina where you can and praying that the consequences of your actions don't lead to you running out of gas as you're trying to rope-swing across a ravine.

That's often where your friends come in. While you can play Peak solo - and I've had a few pleasingly meditative climbs myself - it's best in a group. Playing with friends means that you can carry more collective gear without being totally weighed down, which means more imaginative solutions to some of the bigger climbing problems.

Your companions can reach down to pull a struggling climber up to safety, or even help boost them towards an out-of-reach ledge. Throw in the proximity chat that has been a crucial part of Peak's viral popularity, and you've got a system that all-but forces you to work together, dialing up the tragedy when a friend can't quite make the last gasp towards your outstretched hand and falls tumbling into the mist below, their screams echoing vainly as they fall out of earshot.

Peak can be deeply silly, and joint developers Landfall and Aggro Crab are certainly not afraid to lean into that, with giant lollipops, blow darts, and literal banana peel pratfalls all heightening the comedy, especially in the lower regions of the island. But once you've made it through the slippery Tropics biome and into the more dangerous Alpine and Caldera regions beyond, Peak starts to get serious.

Even getting halfway to safety can be a significant time investment, and while it's all fun and games at the lower altitudes, it becomes clear that a single act of hubris can throw an hour of work away once you get higher up. I once had to complete a desperate climb through the snow all on my own, the ghosts of my friends swirling chaotically around me until I could resurrect them by completing the Alpine climb, and I felt the weight of all three of those co-climbers on my shoulders as I made the slow ascent.

New heights

I'm yet to actually complete Peak, despite multiple attempts. The final biome is a cruel mistress, with an agonizing climb; go too fast and you risk a fall which spells almost certain death; go too slow and you'll be crippled by hunger, the likelihood of finding food among its barren, flame-blasted ledges almost nil. My heart was in my mouth with every jump I made, and I was drained from the mental effort of figuring out the next step forward with every successful climb. Even with friends reaching out to help on every new ascent, the stress began to build up and up, until, three-quarters of the way to the final Peak, I slipped, and was forced to watch, devastated, as my friends made it to the top and boarded the chopper without me.

Peak's success isn't a surprise in and of itself, even if you get the impression that its joint development teams still don't quite believe their luck. Since Getting Over It, plenty of games have attempted to put a co-op twist on the idea that a single mistake can spell doom for your entire run. But while those often felt like they relished in the punishment they meted out, Peak succeeds because it makes you feel like it wants you to succeed as well.

From its slapstick humor to its surprisingly caring approach to looking out for your fellow climbers, it sets up a narrative that's about more than just making the next jump - it's about the people you make the jump with, and the story of each individual ascent. It's about no dumpy little boy scout being left behind, and that's why I'm more scared of my friend messing up a simple jump than anything the Paintress, the Nightlord, or any other boss I've faced so far this year can throw at me.

See what else we've been enjoying this year in our Indie Spotlight series.

Magic Inn managed to put me under its spell within three short hours. As a young wizard sent to work at a ramshackle tavern in the town of Crop Meadow, it's my job to give this once-glorious public house some TLC. On top of that, I have spells to master, drinks to mix, and a salad-chopping minigame to perfect.

Scratch a little further beneath the management sim surface, though, and Magic Inn proves a much broader experience. From interior decorating to building relationships with the townsfolk, solving the mystery of a magical enclave known as Embers, and figuring out what my smarmy boss is up to, there's a surprising amount of depth to Magic Inn as it enters Early Access – which means I'm already wondering what could possibly come next.

Toil and trouble

After playing around with the character creator – I choose to keep the default name, Summer, for my little witch – I finally get a closer look at Hope's Inn. My manager, Samuel, seems nice enough, granting me free rein of the place as I tick off objectives on the way to leveling the premises up.

Magic Inn is a simple enough management sim at surface level: you seat customers, take their orders, bring them their meals, and get paid for it. It's the kind of satisfying, engaging set of mechanics I recall loving about one of the best GBA games in my book: the one and only Cake Mania. Again, though, Magic Inn has a little more to it.

For starters, I'm a witch. That means I have access to a range of helpful spells to help keep things running smoothly. Rain clouds wash dirty tables in a jiffy, the Flying Plate charm sends meals soaring over to diners to save me the legwork, and Fire Bolt burns away any pesky cobwebs that might spring up around the inn.

I'll admit that Magic Inn's controls did give me a bit of trouble at first. The spellcasting crosshair is fixed rather than point-and-click, meaning I have to march around and angle the camera just so in order to lock onto a target. The item wheel is also a little confusing – entering build mode is as easy as tapping B on my keyboard, but the item wheel itself doesn't seem to be working when I try selecting the hammer tool that way instead. It's also not yet Steam Deck verified and the controller functionality is limited at the moment, which is something to bear in mind for fellow keyboard-mouse strugglers.

These are just a few minor snags in an otherwise beautifully iterated experience, and as an Early Access title, I am more than forgiving of them.

The gift of the gab

With my plate, pint, and spell-slinging skills out of the way, I'm permitted to leave Hope's Inn and make for the marketplace. Here, I'm introduced to three other key gameplay elements: shopping, crafting, and deck-building.

Everything in Magic Inn has to be either purchased, crafted, or "requested" from an NPC in town. The market has a revolving slate of pop-up shops and vendors, so checking back every morning and evening to see who's about is crucial to success. I can purchase ingredients, furniture, recipes, and other items from stalls if I wish, though the price markups can be dire. I can also try to haggle for prices, or flirt my way to a higher relationship with various NPCs by way of Conversation.

These interactions see me using a deck of 12 cards, earned by leveling up and tailored from the inventory screen, to try and gain relationship hearts from my opponent. It's a simple enough game of matching emotions with my "rival" – who in this case is anyone I'm trying to charm – while blocking energy-sapping Counters using shield cards.

If I run out of energy points, I'm locked out of Conversations until I build some points back up again. But if I win, I've earned hearts to trade for free items. These items vary from person to person; a farmer might give you free milk, while a high-level trader might give you three rare diamonds worth over 600 coins apiece.

An NPC's profession is very important to bear in mind when it comes to building up my list of Hope's Inn regulars, since regulars bring free resources each time they visit. After meeting and inviting an NPC to the tavern once I talk to them at the market, they get added to the next day's guest list. Now I need only provide perfect, full-star service, and spend five energy points on asking them to be a regular.

Regulars can be swapped out to ensure I get a steady stream of a particular item. Flowers are a safe money-making bet in the early hours of Magic Inn, as they sell for a 10% markup at market. Meanwhile, staples like sugar, lettuce, wheat, and driftwood are important commodities to have daily deliveries of, especially once I level Hope's Inn up enough that my guests expect higher quality food and drink.

Order's up

A typical day as innkeeper is a frantic thing. If I'm unlucky enough not to have a bartender hired, I'll be pouring pints and mixing cocktails as well as chopping salad, preparing fried rice, and managing to juggle the many pizzas being churned out by our resident baker.

The first additional hire I make is for a housekeeper, freeing me from the drudgery of wiping down counters and tabletops, but I also need to bear in mind my staff's own happiness. Throwing the odd vacation day their way helps keep things moving, but whatever you do, don't follow my lead and send the chef on holiday the day before the newspaper visits to critique the food and decide whether to give us a coveted North Star in its restaurant reviews section.

Magic Inn had me hooked within three hours, yes, but I've actually played about 10 so far because it's just that layered. It reminds me more of Two Point than Cake Mania in that regard, offering a host of detailed mechanics that have me actively involved in every level of operations. Managing guests, staff, interiors, ratings, and my own boss's expectations is a lot for one little witch or wizard, but there are some intriguing side-narratives at play, too.

What's with all the detectives around town, or the gossipy vendor at the marketplace who deals solely in secrets? Will I get in trouble with the Empire's guards for using forbidden magic, and will my new magical friend Maja help me get out of this sticky situation without lumping me in with the renegade wizards she runs with called the Embers?

This is one stunning new indie I can't wait to discover more of, and thanks to the transformative powers of Early Access, it's a magical process I'll get to witness first-hand.

Check out the host of upcoming indie games we're keeping an eye on here at GamesRadar+, from cozy games to roguelites and beyond

I'm trying to complete a mission in Minami Lane with the single most important objective: attract more cats. How do I do that? By increasing the beauty rating of my little street diorama that's mine to build up and manage. From renovating existing houses to make them more aesthetically pleasing, to adding a picturesque onsen where my residents can relax, I set down some kombini stores to rake in more cash so I can afford more beautifying upgrades. Some other objectives bring in an added layer of challenge, though, such as one that stipulates I can only have a set amount of buildings to draw in at least four cats every day.

But even with some strategy involved, it's an incredibly laidback management experience overall, and the optional side objective to pet a certain amount of cats is of course one I'm all too happy to fulfill. When my street starts to really come together with feline friends aplenty, I sit back to watch the satisfaction meter of my residents understandably skyrocket. I mean, who wouldn't be happy to walk down a lane and see so many kitties?

I've been meaning to play Minami Lane ever since I saw it take off on Steam last year, and with its recent console release on PS5 and Xbox Series X (it's also available on Xbox Game Pass), I had to finally give it a go. Everything on paper about the indie management game called my name, from its adorable aesthetics to its low-pressure vibes, and my instincts about it were absolutely right, because I've been loving my time with it. I can easily say that after playing it for a little under four hours, I totally get the high praise.

Street life

In Minami Lane, there are five main missions to complete that give you various challenges to meet as you build and manage your own cozy Japanese-inspired streets. The first mission asks you to have a certain number of villagers and build a boba shop, which helps me learn the ropes of its very chill management features.

Each building you can set down, for example, has parameters to fulfill in order to add it to your street, such as a certain satisfaction rating for your residents (which you can increase by adding more attractions and making your street more appealing), or having a particular number of villagers in residence by adding more houses for them to live in.

Both apply when it comes to being able to add the boba cafe, which requires a 60% rating and 10 people to build. Of course, since everything you add also costs money, I have to lean on my ramen shops to rake in some cash. Every shop can be managed to change what it's selling (in this case, ramen noodles) and how much you want to charge to give yourself more profit.

Part of the management comes into play here, because you can also click on residents who visit your shops to see how you can cater to them and get them to keep coming back for more – such as adding more of a particular ingredient to your ramen bowl, or lowering the cost.

At the start of each in-game day during a mission, you can make changes to your shops and add new buildings. Then, you can simply sit back and watch your street come to life over the course of the day, with the option to clean away any trash they drop, and look for a Tanuki who hides in an object on the street to earn yourself some additional money. As the missions go on, there will also be other ways you can interact with your street as you unlock more features, such as petting cats or clicking on passing cyclists to say hello.

I personally love to click on all the passing residents as they go about their business to see what they're thinking. Not only does this allow me to get some feedback on my shops and the street overall, but it also generally lets me get the tea on their daily lives — with some sharing their anxious feelings, while others clearly feel very good about their own fashion sense.

Each mission introduces something different to contend with, with new attractions to build including book stores, karaoke bars, and a service center that allows you to remove existing shops, or hire a shop investigator to help you gather customer feedback.

From trying to cater to both elders and youths with your ramen menu and karaoke selection, to attracting a certain demographic through your streets set-up, you can comfortably complete all the missions in an afternoon, and by the end of my last objective, I only wished there were more to take on.

Happily, outside of the missions, you can also play in two different sandbox modes. The planner mode provides a more strategic experience, since you have limited starting money and it includes building requirements to add to your street. The creative mode, on the other hand, has no restrictions and lots of starting money, so you're completely free to make the street of your dreams without worrying about objectives or money.

Minami Lane is such a laidback management experience that it's the perfect kind of game to unwind in while you're listening to an audiobook or podcast. I can already see myself dipping into the sandbox modes to do exactly that in the future. If you've been holding out on this one like me, or you're looking for a chill, charming indie delight, this is your sign to give it go.

Minami Lane is out now on PC, Xbox Series X, PS5, and Switch. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

I go from backflip to kickflip to shredding a keytar solo, my hoverboard thrumming beneath my feet. It's a standard enough combo in Star Overdrive, and if anybody had been around to see, they would've witnessed a twirling feat of acrobatics and rock music that spits in the face of gravity. All standard practice in this far-flung corner of the galaxy though, and the goal isn't to impress anybody – no, I'm on the hunt. Having flung myself airborne, the elevated perspective lets me spot what looks like a titanic, armor-plated maggot tunneling through the dusty desert plains, several hundred yards southwest of my location.

Target located. I reluctantly let physics have their way at last, riding my board back down to the dunes, and immediately go speeding towards the behemoth, vaulting rocks and sandy drifts in such a way as to make Marty McFly salivate with envy. As I close in on my prey, I pull my keytar off my back once again, and play a thunderous power chord – causing a bolt of energy to spring from it and lasso the beast. A second later, I'm being dragged at a thousand miles an hour behind Shai-Hulud, ollieing every sandbank along the way, already firing up the solo needed to start blasting the beast with lasers.

Chord and Board

Star Overdrive is an arresting sci-fi adventure game I've been playing recently that, despite its superficially high-octane nature, is something I've been finding more zen than adrenaline-fueled. Which was hardly what I was expecting.

A game about a bionic kid getting stranded on an alien world while looking for a loved one, navigating the ancient ruins and desert through skateboard tricks, using his keyboard to trigger telekinesis, super-jumps and phasers… Well, it hardly sounds relaxed. And yet there's something about the game that feels almost meditative. The spiky-haired hero with the deadly instrument might speak to influences like the great Hi-Fi Rush, but I found the calming flowstate overriding the superficially punkish, rock-and-roll aspects.

And ultimately I can't help but be reminded of The Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild. The ancient glowing ruins amidst nature, the quiet world reclaimed by local fauna and flora, even the beeping device strapped to our hero unlocking various applicable powers that solve puzzles and fight enemies. But whereas shield surfing for Link was more of a rarity, for protagonist Bios, his trusty Hoverboard is essential, a way to cross vast expanses and keep pace with many of the boss fights – such as sliding your way past the titanic, pulverizing tentacles of a giant octopus.

Meanwhile, the story is a thoughtful, almost melancholy touch. Bios is a silent hero, landed on the abandoned world of Cebete to find his loved one Nous, who came here exploring and never returned. And yes, there's been other people here in the past, but right from the beginning it feels clear that you're probably not going to find any – it's all abandoned mining rigs and generators long depleted of power.

Cebete really evokes that feeling of being the last person in the world, freely skating around on rusting hulks and playing music, not to make a punkish statement or to show anybody up, but simply to fill the enormous silence and freely experiment. You can't be sticking it to the man when there's no mankind here anymore, and following the trail left behind by Nous is a soft saga that leads you through the game's many challenges.

Still, that doesn't mean it's not fun. The hoverboarding and skating mechanics lean hard on the effortless power fantasy over technical expertise, purposefully making it easy for the players to do epic stunts and accelerate to face-rippling G-force in an instant. And with Cebete effectively being one big skate park, full of organic ramps and loops and booster devices, the emphasis is less on performing fiddly manuals and grinds, as it is achieving the kind of ridiculous air that would allow you to headbutt God on your way up.

And if I get to land on an alien tortoise while shredding out The Final Countdown, that's just all the better for it.

Star Overdrive is out now on PC, Xbox Series X/S, PS5, and Switch. To discover more indie highlights, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

As I move my little boat to clean more black sludge from the water in Spilled!, a new indie game from solo developer Lente, the oceanbed below me starts to come alive. Now a clear blue, I can see fish and turtles swimming around marine plants that pop with color, and gently sway beneath the surface. As satisfying as it is to clean all of the muck away by itself, what I'm doing becomes that much more meaningful at the sight of all of the inhabitants that call this place home. With every spill I clean away, and with each plastic bottle I scoop up and deposit at a recycling barge, I'm restoring this natural ecosystem and helping the wildlife reclaim their habitat and thrive once more.

Spilled! is a short game, with it only taking me a little over an hour to complete, but it's the best 68 minutes I've spent in a long time. The delightful, pixelated world complements the soothing music that plays as I work to ensure every single biome is completely clean. I fall into a relaxing flow as I go, and I could have happily spent several more hours clearing waterways.

Boatful of care

Spilled! is a linear experience that sees you work to clear different aquatic biomes. How you actually clean the water is pretty simple: you just have to move your boat over any spills, or use the scooper-like fixture at the front of the little vessel to gather up any bottles that float in the water. As you collect black oil sludge that sits on the water's surface, a container fixed on the back of your boat will start to fill up. Anything you collect can then be deposited at a recycling barge in exchange for money. Once you've cleared and earned enough, the next biome will unlock.

The coins you earn from cleaning the water can also be used to upgrade your boat's container, scooper, and fan-speed so you can move your small dinghy faster, or collect more waste. Each upgrade costs more and more as you go, and I find myself determined to clean every single inch of any given area — not only for the bonus of earning more upgrades, but to ensure the wildlife there can be free of any human pollution. Every time an area is completely spick and span, I get the same kind of feeling of satisfaction that I so often get from games like of PowerWash Simulator.

You'll need those upgrades because each biome level you unlock gets increasingly bigger, with heavier spills and more plastic infesting the water. Every area also introduces a new feature, such as the ability to spray water in order to put out fires, or clean sludge that's clinging to cliff sides or rocks. I also occasionally come across a bonus objective, like locating a beach ball and using my scooper to move it over to another boat that lost the ball. While you essentially have the same goal through the game, the fresh features and extra additions throughout are a wonderful touch that shakes up the experience in small ways.

As well as the wildlife swimming below each location, you'll also come across some cute animals on the water's surface that you can rescue by clearing away the spills – from Wally the walrus to a crocodile called Peaches (hat tip to the developer for the excellent names of each and every one, because they all brought a big smile to my face). Once again, this instils the idea that what you're doing matters. By restoring the environment, you're helping to care for the animals that live here.

It's that compassionate care that makes Spilled! feel like a special, meaningful game about clearing away pollution that's wrapped up in a short package. If you're looking for a wonderfully laid back, short experience, I can't recommend Spilled! enough – and every purchase of the game donates 10 cents to the Whale and Dolphin conservation charity, which is just an added bonus.

Spilled! is out now on PC. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series, or see what's ahead with our roundup of upcoming indie games.

I've just joined a lampshade god cult in Quantum Witch. It was an accident, you see – this is one of those beautiful 2D pixel platformers that's more about exploration than all-out brawling, which means it's very easy to stumble upon something quite strange.

From a fourth-wall breaking skeleton to the Great Lampshaded One, the short time I've spent with Quantum Witch (newly out on Steam) so far has revealed a treasure trove of mysteries. In it, I play as Ren, a happily married lesbian witch in the female-only enclave of Hus. Of course, there's more to this quaint magical town than cottagecore vibes and Nintendo easter eggs – but those are two very good places to start.

Faer's fair

First thing's first: this game is gorgeous in its simplicity. An impressive solodev project from NikkiJay, Quantum Witch strikes a deft balance between nostalgic and innovative, its side-scrolling 2D pixel world evocative of the best SNES games while offering an storyline that likely wouldn't have made the cut back when the console was most popular.

That's because this charming little "plotformer" is very queer. Ren's journey is one of love, sisterhood, and potentially malevolent gods, all set in an idyllic all-woman town of witches. Each woman is Bonded with another – married, essentially – and can become pregnant by the will of the gods when bathing in the magical Pool. Ren and her wife Tyra own a farm near the Hus Crossroads, populated with animals referred to as Faer. Ren's first mission? To rush around Hus, find her lost Faer, and stop them causing trouble in the village.

This little sojourn is a brilliant way to get acquainted with my environs, as well as uncover a few hidden interactions known in-game as waveforms. On the way to the first creature, I find a pretty yellow flower. I return to my stead to seek out Tyra, who is very much the Judy variety of lesbian as per Cyberpunk 2077 – edgy, effortlessly cool, and a secret softy.

I offer the little posy to her, suggesting perhaps she place it behind her ear. She's reluctant at first, but after a little pleading – "do it for me?" "anything for you" – she obliges. It's one of the cutest minor moments I've experienced in the game so far, subtle in its sincerity, and reflects the core values of Quantum Witch as a beautiful queer-centered tale.

It's not all meadows and daisies, though. I make a wrong turn outside Ren and Tyra's homestead and come face to face with a curious woman clad in purple standing in front of a large wooden chapel. Ren recognizes her as one of the Shadies, a collective – "we're totally NOT A CULT" – of believers in a deity known as the Great Lampshaded One.

She tells me all about her beloved god enthusiastically, so much so that curiosity gets the better of me. I enter the Shadies' domain to find a swarm of identically-dressed purple followers, who greet me with delight and watch my every move, their sprites turning to face my direction at any given time. Suddenly, a purple dress appears on Ren, too. Have I just joined a cult without knowing much about its mysterious leader? Oops.

Breaking the spell

There are even weirder things happening in Quantum Witch than lampshade witches, it seems. My Faer fetch quest leads me to the village marketplace, where I not only meet a giant lady who teaches me to fight (or destroy breakable objects, really, as combat does not seem a focal point here) but a trio of very familiar vendors.

Princess Nectarine is selling "incredibly useful shells" and has far-flung tales of battles and breakneck races to regale me with, while totally-not-Pac-Man flogs an array of pills and potions next door. Nearby, Laura T's Jungle Relics offers stolen artefacts from across the world, and after a quick chat with Laura herself, I decide that she's one traumatized tomb raider.

Affectionate nods to some classic platformers aside, the real mystery comes just beyond the stalls. Here, I find something called Helgrind Path – and a lilac-haired woman with her hands and wrists bound, sitting right in the middle of it.

A roaring fire is the only light in this unnatural gloom, the music suddenly far more ominous than the once-jolly adventure melodies I'd been enjoying up to this point. She pleads with me to leave her be, warning that nothing good can come of my poking around before urging me to learn more about Hus. This town is not what it seems, she says, and to accept that, I must face some unpleasant truths

The notion that this picturesque sapphic utopia is not all it seems is jarring, both to me and to Ren. But it also sends a thrill through me – I've found the first flicker of uncertainty in an otherwise perfect place, and I can tell it's the start of something special.

Pride Month might be over now we are firmly in July, but Quantum Witch is still just as relevant. It celebrates queer community with a hefty dose of mystery and darkness, imagining a too-good-to-be-true world where magic can be found in every one of us. If you loved The Cosmic Wheel Sisterhood's brand of choice-led storytelling and mystical sapphic vibes, I have no doubt Quantum Witch will put a spell on you, too.

Check out all the stunning upcoming indie games to keep an eye on this year.

As a massive platformer fan I've had my eye on Ruffy and the Riverside for a while, and I'm pleased to report that this colorful adventure is just as much fun as its wonderful hand-drawn art style looks, while also being a bit of a surprise. The demo I played last year made me think this was simply a clever take on Super Mario Odyssey-style levels, but this is actually a mostly open world with its own rhythm.

Speaking of rhythm, Ruffy and the Riverside really is at its best when you're just enjoying the vibes, whether that's the extremely boppy Demon Turf-esque vocal instrumentations, the frequent charming grunts from Ruffy, or just zipping around a sunny and friendly environment. Even enemies often have a big grin on their faces, reminding me of the Rareware housestyle – there's a childlike sense of wonder here that's also part of Banjo-Kazooie's lasting appeal.

Stop 'n' swap

The story kicks off when Ruffy, used to using texture swapping powers to help out with mundane tasks around the village, is tasked with helping to restore power to the world core – which means re-collecting the scattered letters of Riverside's Hollywood-like signage.

Doing so requires the use of the Swap, a power seemingly only Ruffy can use. In this world of paper cut-out style characters, Ruffy is able to select most textures in the environment and absorb them, able to then apply them to other textures either one by one or in bulk. In essence, pools of water can become molten lava with a few taps of a button, or unbreakable stone blocks can become bashably wooden.

It's the kind of ability description that – at least for me – had me itching to pick up the controller and try it out. I'm pleased to report that, in practice, it really is that slick to pull off – swapping textures feels great, and repositioning Ruffy to bounce between objects is really smooth.

Ruffy and the Riverside isn't quite Super Mario 64 when it comes to platforming mechanics, but with a bee pal along for the ride who enables things like float jumps, Ruffy is quite zippy – it's just that the game is more about puzzle platforming than expressive movement. Yet, that movement still feels pretty good. Just don't expect any deliberately game-breaking movement like Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom or a momentum palooza like Penny's Big Breakaway.

Each new area, accessed by exploring the large world of Riverside, has its own gimmicks that have Ruffy use swapping in new ways. I like them best when those objectives are weaved into the exploration itself – one that has you constantly moving along islands while collecting a variety of colors to deposit into a cube (it makes more sense in practice) is a highlight. Whereas another that has you decorating a gravestone to help a ghost win a competition (by eavesdropping on the judges' meeting) feels more basic, and a skateboard-style contest on haybales feels like it'd be better left as a side activity.

Still, Ruffy is certainly never boring, there's always something new, and no area overstays its welcome. Between main missions that often have you making your way to unique areas is a large world that sort of smashes together the biomes from each (for instance, there's a snowy corner of the map right by a big lava geyser, which is a stone's throw away from a thick forest). There's plenty of collectibles hidden away to nab by nosing around them all.

In theory I quite like these – solving tiny little puzzles, almost like a microcosm of The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild earns you collectibles. Though here, at least, some repetitive puzzle types do stick out. Several simply revolve around you destroying stone blocks to replicate a shape, others have you replicate a pattern onto stone tiles, and others have you solve a number puzzle using different types of tiles. Admittedly, in that last case, you do then get sucked onto a wall like in Super Mario Odyssey for a brief bit of 2D platforming. Ostensibly, finding the pattern or shapes to replicate requires some work, but most of the time they're almost right next to the puzzle you're trying to solve.

Yet, again, these are so brief that even though some feel like they could be more in-depth, they're over before I can really get annoyed by them, and simply poking around the world and uncovering them is fun to do. Beyond that, there are some more built out puzzles that require a bit more thinking. I even think I broke a couple by doing some tricksy platforming, which is always a plus for me in a game like this.

I've almost finished Ruffy and the Riverside, and can't wait to play more. I'm really captivated by the positive vibes like the best of magic spells, and can't wait to get back in there and get swapping.

Ruffy and the Riverside was played on PC, with a code provided by the publisher

Ruffy and the Riverside is out now on PC, PS5, Xbox Series X/S, Xbox One, and Nintendo Switch. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

In Camper Van: Make It Home, from developer Malapata Studios, I sink into a relaxing flow and decorate my little house on wheels. After already bringing a smaller camper van to life and travelling to a new destination, I'm now in an upgraded, larger vehicle, and it's pretty clear from the getgo that someone else resides here, too. With various belongings to set down, from toiletries to clothing and kitchenware, I have to fit all my stuff in with what's already here.

At one stage I unpack a mug that's decorated with a happy face and small arms that just so happens to match another on a countertop. To my delight, placing the mug opposite the other makes their arms link up as if in their embrace. At that moment, I realize I'm making a home for a couple. Fast forward to the next destination, and the connecting mug is gone, as is all of the other belongings I was fitting mine around, and I'm stocking up the freezer with tubs of ice cream and placing chocolates on my bed.

It's one of the many ways I'm reminded of Unpacking, with both Camper Van: Make It Home's organizing and environmental storytelling capturing me in much the same way as Witch Beam's pixelated, zen puzzler. But with delightful lo-fi music, beautiful changing backdrops as you move from place to place, and a pet companion, it has its own distinct road trip vibe, too.

Life on the road

You start out with a pretty small camper van, with options to choose its interior and exterior color, as well as which cute little charm you hang off its rear-view mirror (I opt for a happy frog, myself). Then, you're free to start setting down all your belongings, which proves to be quite the puzzle in itself since you have limited space. With a bed that has a pull out compartment that houses shelves and also serves as a fold out table, I sink into the sense of satisfaction it brings me to figure out the perfect spot for every object, from popping stationary in a shallow drawer, to finding a nook for my rolled up socks.

With different symbols on the right-hand side of the screen that mark different kinds of belongings – with a sandwich for food items, or a toothbrush and tube of toothpaste for toiletries, clicking on them will generate different household items in those categories. Once the symbol is completely purple, you know all objects from that section have been placed. Never knowing what item you get with each click adds to the puzzle element, since you might settle something down, only to have to rejig everything when another object would be a better fit for that space.

Just like Unpacking, I love how each item starts to paint a picture of the person who's on this journey. A guitar and polaroid camera? They clearly have a creative streak. Later on, I even squeal with delight when I pull out a Switch game box that I can instantly tell pays homage to Animal Crossing: New Horizons (they're clearly a person of taste, too).

Once all of the items are in place, I'm free to move on to the next destination, and each step of my journey is chronicled in a scrapbook that I can look back on any time. From venturing to a sunsoaked campsite, to a picturesque mountainside, and more, I also love the way the camper evolves throughout; getting bigger, or bringing in some new compartments for me to place objects in.

Alongside the environmental storytelling, I also get such a kick of the interactivity of some of the objects, as well as the camper van interior. While the camera can be a bit clunky to move around at times on PC, it's an absolute joy to click on everything to see if there are hidden interactions – like pulling up a collapsible shower, or snapping a shot with the camera. During my travels, I also get to choose from a cat, corgi, or lizard (all of which are adorable) who becomes a little travelling companion. I decide on the corgi after a lot of deliberation, and yes, I'm happy to report you can absolutely pet them.

Complete with lo-fi music that just brings the whole experience together, the vibes of Camper Van: Make it Home are immaculate. It's quite a short experience, but if you're after a relaxing puzzle game that takes you on a laidback journey and you enjoyed Unpacking, you'll likely love this, too.

Camper Van: Make It Home is out now on PC and is set to come to Switch later this year. To see what else we've been enjoying, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

9 Kings is driving me to distraction. I've pushed my favorite build in this new roguelike city-builder to what I think is almost its limit, but I'm desperate to keep going just that little bit further, the fallacy of the cost I've sunk into this particular approach ringing in my ears.

As the name suggests, each run of 9 Kings starts with the choice of one of nine kings (at least it will eventually - two are on their way in a later update). Your choice of king will influence your city, and by extension your playstyle. The King of Greed, for instance, is focused around a strong economy, with units that become more effective as your coffers swell. The King of Stone is all about hard-hitting siege weaponry, while the King of Spells marches with an army full of spellcasters augmented by powerful magic.

But at the start of each run you'll also be presented with your enemies. A rebellious form of your own kingdom will be among them, but you'll also be fighting invaders from two or three other kings at any one time. Each in-game year will see a new invasion, and with each invasion you'll claim spoils - troops, constructions, or spells from your opponents' tech tree that you can use to build up your own city.

We built this city

That city-building is surprisingly intricate. Starting on a map of just nine tiles, there's not much room to start setting up your strategy, and optimizing what space you do have is key. Different buildings layer their effects on top of each other, stacking buffs on the units you place between them - if you get everything in the right spot. Certain spells can be used to free up tiles by destroying what's already there - but since they increase the power of adjacent tiles, you want to make sure you're getting the most out of each cast.

When everything does line up, the ranks and stats of your army can quickly be increasing exponentially. But kicking off that stacking improvement can mean being incredibly precise in the early game. And if the right cards don't show up, it's up to you to adapt on the fly - I spent one run desperately hoarding gold because I'd accidentally found myself stealing scaling units from the King of Greed, and I needed as much cash on hand as I could get.

Ashes and Dust

That can make 9 Kings' roguelike elements heartbreaking. Each year for 33 years will bring a new army to your door before a final showdown. In that time, you'll expand the borders of your kingdom, hear prophecies, and declare war or peace against enemy kings. All of these different decisions can weigh heavily on your chances of success; where's the best spot to unlock a new tile?; how do I take full advantage of this upcoming prophecy?; which king can I comfortably defeat, and which is likely to storm my castle?

With each year only offering one or two ways to exert your kingly influence, and only three successful invasions between a kingdom that thrives or perishes, every decision is made to count, often far more than you might originally expect. Often, an otherwise successful army can simply run out of steam if the cocktail of buffs you've been stacking up still can't cut it against late-game armies.

I've lost track of the number of times I've been sitting pretty approaching the final showdown, only for my frontline troops to suddenly fold in front of an onslaught of spells or siege engines. That is, admittedly, partly my fault, because my favorite strategy is an aggro-heavy approach that relies on putting as much cannon fodder in front of my opponents as possible. The King of Blood thrives on massive armies of expendable units that overwhelm enemy troops.

When any one of those units dies, Blood's cemeteries summon an impish replacement to take their spot on the field, while its Demon Altars gain strength from the life energy of the departed. It's an aggressive, entertaining twist on 9 Kings' otherwise slower, more gradual approach to gaining strength - simply overwhelm your enemies, and you'll often find yourself halfway through a successful run before you even notice.

Unfortunately, it's at that halfway stage that things start to get tricky for my imps, who tend to evaporate in the face of larger armies. That's good news for my Altars, which summon increasingly powerful Demons every turn, but if 90% of your army is killed in the first few seconds of battle, there's very little that the remaining 10% can do, no matter how many essences they've absorbed.

That's brought me to the real joy of 9 Kings. It requires such intricacy, such exact placement and planning in its late-game battles, that a single wasted turn feels like it can ruin a run. As it stands, I'm gradually pushing my way up through its endgame difficulty levels, attempting to master every different King and their varying playstyles, desperately trying to push each build just a touch beyond the record I set last time. It's an all-consuming, and often thankless task, but it's a testament to the city-builder's roguelike setup that I'm prepared to keep coming back to try again.

9 Kings is out now in Early Access on PC. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

In horror manga artist Junji Ito's The Enigma of Amigara Fault, people from around the world are drawn to mysterious human-shaped holes that appear on a fictional Japanese mountain. Each visitor claims there is a hole made just for them – calling out, almost – and one by one they disappear into their own claustrophobic hell. But let me tell you something: if I were to turn up to that mountainside, I would simply be immune to the supernatural allure of my own stony silhouette.

That's because the perfect hole isn't one that's been made specifically for me. In this instance, the journey really does beat the destination – the perfect hole is the one you dig yourself. Or, in my case, the one I spend every day resisting the urge to create. When my two-year-old husky digs in the garden, a possessed look in his eye, part of me bellows for him to stop and another, secret part of me craves to join him in the dirt. Digging rules. Holes rule. A Game About Digging A Hole, which is a short indie game about digging a hole, rules.

Celebrity Skin

A Game About Digging A Hole begins with the player buying a puny, surface-level home. The home doesn't really matter. What matters are the rumors of buried treasure in its garden, and wouldn't you know it, you've brought a shovel! Somewhere down there is a wealth of riches (supposedly), and that's all you know – and frankly, need to know – before getting to work.

There's a mischievous joy, like eating someone else's chocolate, in taking your first scoop of dirt out of the pristine lawn. Unearthed soil handily disappears – sorry, Realism Mode Diggers – but you do have to manage your battery, used up by digging, and your health, which tends to go down by falling into the product of said digging.

Learning nothing from Minecraft, I opted to dig directly down before realizing that I had no way of climbing back out. In this instance I had enough battery left to corkscrew-dig my way back up, but if you run out, you're teleported back to the garden without any of the stone or precious metals you may have found. These natural treasures can be sold in your garage, while the profit is used to heal, recharge your battery, and upgrade gear. That includes fairly grounded things like a larger battery size, extra inventory slots, and a wider digging radius for your shovel. But it can also be used to buy a jetpack – crucial for getting out of deeper holes despite it greedily sucking up your battery – along with single-use lamps and dynamite.

As the materials you find become steadily more valuable (and upgrades predictably pricier), A Game About Digging A Hole settles into a fairly straightforward formula. Dig as far down as you can, leaving just enough of your battery to jetpack back to the surface, then sell your goodies and spend cash before delving into the ground once more.

I'm a goblin in human flesh, so this is all I need to feel alive. My only hang-up is having to buy lamps, which make sure I can see what I'm doing when my hole spirals so deep I can no longer see the sky. I couldn't tell you why spending money on light irritates me so much – perhaps it's because gloom feels like an essential part of the subterranean experience – but even my long-professed love of the underground isn't enough to work in total darkness. Curse you, sun-spoiled eyes.

At this point, you know all there is to know about A Game About Digging A Hole aside from one little thing – the small matter of treasure – and that's not for me to spoil. If you're anything like me, you'll find minute satisfaction in every plunge of your shovel, the mere thought of turning a minor pothole into a cavern of Moria-esque proportions will feel like biting into forbidden fruit. A Game About Digging A Hole's Steam page is filled with positive reviews from people who Just Get It, with praise varying from "a religious experience" to those grappling with an awakened "primal instinct" to dig.

The game itself is short – don't expect more than an hour or two of play – but as the internet has become fond of saying, at $3.99 it costs less than a cup of coffee (how much are you all paying for coffee?) and delivers everything it promises. Having recently dug the foundations for a patio, I can also promise that it's much easier than the real thing. More importantly, it captures the same sense of playing god, of making the very ground we walk upon your own, and carving out your own domain beneath the dirt, and… look, maybe my dog is onto something, alright?

A Game About Digging A Hole is out now on PC. Here are the upcoming indie games of 2025 we're most excited for.

I'm a big fan of detective games, and for someone who can't resist following a breadcrumb trail of clues, Duck Detective: The Ghost of Glamping is perfect. Even the series' release schedule feels ideal for me – this is a followup to the excellent Duck Detective: The Secret Salami, but isn't strictly a 'Duck Detective 2' sequel or second episode. This is just another well-paced little mystery that's just taxing enough to remain engaging, while breezy enough to last a lazy afternoon or chill evening (or, god forbid, a morning).

Duck Detective: The Ghost of Glamping sees titular sleuth Eugene McQuacklin still in the middle of a messy divorce with his swan wife, now living with roommate Freddy Frederson – an overly enthusiastic crocodile – after falling behind on the rent on his apartment. Down on his luck as he is, perhaps the only thing stopping him from wallowing in the shallows of his own heart is the potential to lose himself to another case.

Quacking the case

Falling back into his bread addiction, and struggling with the age-old rule don't text your ex, Freddy invites Eugene to forget it all for a weekend and join him on a relaxing vacation: a spooky glamping trip outside a haunted sanatorium. (This would work on me, to be fair). To make matters worse, Freddy is meeting up with his new girlfriend who's attending the spot for work – yes, Eugene is third-wheeling here, which ruffles his feathers.

Where The Secret Salami revelled in its office setting, having Eugene peck apart the long and complex relationships between long-time coworkers, The Ghost of Glamping is the opposite – all about a group of strangers thrown together by circumstance. The campsite caters to those in raggedy tents all the way to influencers staying in their VIP accommodation (which is more like a penthouse apartment) – meaning characters from all walks of life collide when criminal conspiracy rears its long, bendy neck. It's a compelling hook that sets it apart from its predecessor.

I also want to emphasize that you don't need to have played The Secret Salami to enjoy The Ghost of Glamping. While characters return, and Eugene's circumstances have evolved, for the most part this really is a standalone mystery that just plays in the same world. Just as one episode of Columbo exists next to another, but has its own tricksy plot for Peter Falk's character to pick apart, so too is this just another case for the Duck Detective.

The only times that standalone nature feels more questionable are a handful of spots where Duck Detective once again incorporates some very lightweight geopolitics into its plot. The mystery and characters themselves don't completely hinge around the tense relationship between this world's East and West – but they do return, and I found myself struggling to follow these parts just as I struggled in The Secret Salami. It's so in the background it's largely a non-issue, and it's perhaps testament to the strong character writing that underpins the mystery here that the larger picture just doesn't go into my brain right – but it's an element Duck Detective still hasn't quite landed yet and that I have trouble engaging with.

For the most part, anyone who played Duck Detective: The Secret Salami will know what they're in for, as the mystery mechanics are largely the same. You'll be collecting details on new characters (and matching names to their portraits), presenting evidence to learn more about them, using your magnifying glass to highlight clues across the likes of bags and open laptops, and filling out mysteries. A little like The Rise of the Golden Idol, these take the form of slotting collected evidence keywords into statements with missing gaps. The game nudges you if your solution is close (and a Story Mode makes this even easier). After coming up with the correct statements, the plot moves forward for you to do it again.

Duck soup

Yet, though the mechanics are largely the same, The Ghost of Glamping does bring some great improvements in terms of presentation and pacing. A clearer UI that's still pleasingly snappy makes it easy to tell at a glance what clues are new and what you've already investigated. As before, a map highlights where new interactables are located, but with tighter areas and fewer loading screens it feels like there's a lot less back and forth and trawling for clues.

The Ghost of Glamping also has some more variety with its puzzles, adding some lightweight decrypting and handwriting analysis to the mix in addition to its keyword-filling foundations. This works well, and both unlocking new areas and making deductions feels compelling. It does mean, however, this mystery feels a bit shorter and simpler than The Secret Salami, but my playtime is only 90 minutes here versus 110 minutes there so it's much of a muchness. (I have to mention I do read pretty fast, I'd guess on average most people will get around 2 hours out of this).

I did feel at points The Secret Salami could get a bit bogged down – especially when it came to waddling back and forth in the offices – and while The Ghost of Glamping maybe goes too far the other way in being overly breezy it's nice to see some dials being adjusted for this followup. Some puzzles in The Secret Salami are cleverer than The Ghost of Glamping's, nothing here reaches the devious heights of some of that game's final brainteasers. But, likewise, The Ghost of Glamping has some sequences that are more fun than The Secret Salami's slower bits. There's ups and downs. You know, like… the feathers. Oh god, am I the Freddy Frederson of GamesRadar+ Towers?!

Is Duck Detective: The Ghost of Glamping one of the best mystery games out there? Not really – but it does feature some of the slickest detective mechanics and a bread-bite-size nature that's irresistible to duck-dive back into. A finger sandwich's worth of adventuring. I had a fun evening, and while this particular mystery won't stick with me, the characters of Eugene McQuacklin and Freddy Frederson will, as well as the new faces they encounter here. There's no mallardy to Duck Detective's refined and brilliantly simple mechanics that continue to evolve, and there's a real chance that, collectively, the case files of the Duck Detective could become a real standout.

Duck Detective: The Ghost of Glamping was played on PC, with a code provided by the publisher

Duck Detective: The Ghost of Glamping is out now on PC via Steam, Xbox Series X|S, Xbox One, PlayStation 5, and Nintendo Switch. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

Lost Skies takes about 40 minutes to go absolutely bonkers, and it does so with practically no warning about what's coming. I'm slicing up a fallen tree into lumber, piling up the pieces in my inventory, when I suddenly realize that the mile-long floating island I've been operating on until now is quaking. At first it's barely noticeable, but it starts to get more and more drastic, the rumbling building in volume, until it feels like the entire airborne continent is at risk of tearing itself apart – and then the leviathan appears. Thundering over the lip of the island emerges a flying behemoth, somewhere in shape between a jellyfish and a sea turtle, covered in mossy stone plating and declaring itself with a concussive roar that splits the sky.

The beast puts me in shadow, eclipsing the sun, moving at such a speed despite its size that it'll be a distant speck in moments, and in my bewildered panic I have no idea what this thing is or what I'm supposed to do about it. But some ideas are too bad to resist, and I doubt I'll get another chance soon. I snatch up the hookshot I found earlier, slap it to my wrist, take careful aim at the creature's gargantuan tail and fireeeeaaaaaaaAAAAAAAGHH!

A second later I'm gone, dragged behind Rayquaza through open sky like a tin can behind a speeding wedding car, trying to reel myself in even as I swing to avoid being splattered across the asteroid belt we're rocketing through. I can't say I've mastered life at high altitude yet, but sometimes a learning curve ends up taking you over the horizon – and beyond it.

Mr Blue Sky

Lost Skies, which entered Early Access a few weeks back, is an expansive survival game set on a network of floating islands a la Skyward Sword, with the idea being that to live players will have to master that most perilous of elements: the Y-axis. You start off clambering around on every single cliff, wall and vertical surface like you're in Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild, then the hookshot and glider come into play, and before long then you're building huge airships for long-distance flight that wouldn't have been out of place in Tears of the Kingdom.

So we're three-for-three on modern Zelda homages, to say nothing of the ancient tech left from prior civilizations, but in reality I think Lost Skies is closer in spirit to Subnautica. This is a game about navigating an element unfamiliar to you – in this case, open sky rather than deep sea – and harvesting resources to better navigate and research the remains of what came before. Sometimes that means kicking through grass to find dry reeds you can weave into cloth, sometimes that means shooting at robots from the deck of your flying pirate ship before doing a HALO jump onto the back of a flying whale.

It's a game where long periods of peace are punctuated by sudden, startling action and stress, but while I'm always excited to commandeer flying vehicles in any game, it was the grappling hook that turned out to be the unsung hero. I don't use hyperbole when I say it may arguably be better at web-swinging than even the most recent Spider-Man games, downplaying the instant gratification and emphasizing better understanding of momentum and where to anchor yourself.

Sometimes I'd swing ineptly and flatten my nose against a tree trunk, other times I'd cut a perfect arc through open air, curling acrobatically before firing a fresh grapple at the peak of my ascent to swing again. You can even use it to retrieve distant objects or throw around enemies: slamming them into the ground or attaching yourself to flying foes for a free ride, wildly firing a pistol with your off-hand at the same time.

These are the kind of experiences that make Lost Skies worth it, those organic yet cinematic moments where your own wit finds purchase on the game world and something magnificent emerges. That being said, I did find a few gripes: the survival elements can be a little dreary when you're in the aforementioned reed-scrounging stage, and it's definitely a game that could afford to go deeper, not just wider.

Once you're fully set up and reliving The Edge Chronicles (who gets that reference these days?) the game loses momentum a little, but that's what Early Access is for, isn't it? Right now there's a phenomenal foundation for further development, and I'm excited to see where Lost Skies gets to in the future. If nothing else, I'm excited to have another go riding the leviathan's tail – hopefully this time without eventually braining myself on an errant flipper.

Lost Skies is out in Early Access on PC. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

I start out my adventures in Locomoto by essentially pinching a train from a surly goat called McGruff. I know that sounds bad, but before you judge me, I'm doing it on the instruction of a raccoon known as Finley… and if I'm ever going to trust anyone, it's the trash pandas of the animal kingdom that I've always had a great affinity for. And anyway, it's all in the name of a good cause. There's a struggling town nearby that Finley wants to help out, and after appointing me in the role of the new train conductor, they ask me to get it in motion so we can pick up the future mayor who's hopefully going to set the town to rights.

Once I've cleared some boxes off the track at this rather rundown-looking station where McGruff lives, I'm shown the ropes of how to run the rail vehicle, from filling the engine with coal, to boarding my passenger (and partner in crime) Finley by carrying their luggage to a vacant seat inside. Then, all that's left to do is use a map in the front carriage to set my destination and pull a lever to get going. Before I know it, we're headed to the first train stop of many I'll eventually journey to during my time in developer Green Tile Digital's delightful train management life sim. In fact, what was originally meant to be a short play session turns into a three hour-long stint as I get swept up in various quest objectives and spend a lot of time customizing my conductor and my train.

With its adorable anthropomorphic characters that bring to mind the villagers in Animal Crossing: New Horizons, and a grid-based crafting system that's reminiscent of Minecraft, Locomoto offers up just the kind of laidback experience I need right now, and there's so much to do that I know I'm going to lose hours of my time to it.

All aboard

In Locomoto, you get to make your own adorable custom character from the outset that you can style after lots of different animals. I'm a big fan of character creators, and this one has an extensive suite of options to choose from that makes my heart sing as a longtime player of games like The Sims. I spend too much time checking out the different looks and styles I can give my conductor, from a wealth of ear variations, to fur markings, eye shapes, and tails. Not to mention different clothing items.

I eventually settle on bringing to life a little bear called Herbert, who rocks a yellow cardigan and round glasses, complete with a middle hair parting that brings his look together. Happily, you can change the look of your character at any time in the game, with photobooths dotted around the station stops that will let you make change adjustments you want.

Customization is a huge part of Locomoto's appeal, and it of course extends not only to the outfits you can wear, but the look of your train both inside and out. The more you progress in the first few hours, the more options you'll unlock, such as paints and wallpaper for your carriages, to new blueprints that you can find in the world that add to the items you can craft. The crafting system is also very easy to get to grips with thanks to its grid-based nature – where you place down resources in squares in a particular layout to make a chair, or a hot cocoa machine (which every train needs).

The bulk of the experience of playing Locomoto sees you putting coal in your engine and venturing from station to station to complete various tasks for the fellow animal characters you meet. As a laidback experience, nothing is ever too demanding, with fairly straightforward quests to complete – such as taking a passenger to a particular destination, or locating a certain object for someone. Occasionally, though, I did wish the quests provided clearer instructions, because it's not always obvious to know what to do, which can lead to some confusion at times – but it never becomes too frustrating.

In actual fact, there are so many objective and side activities to do early on that I frequently find myself falling down the rabbit hole of, "I'll just do one more task, or go to one more station before I call it night". Then, the next thing I know, hours have simply vanished as I've gotten lost in customizing my train's interior, or crafting new furniture items to deck out my carriages with. I used to call this the Stardew Valley paradox, whereby time seems to disappear as I lose myself in the pixelated farming sim's daily routine, and that same feeling is present here as I sink into many train journeys.

One of my favorite things to do so far is collect parcels from station stops that need to be delivered elsewhere. At this point, I feel like I've become a little bear postman, with parcels stacked up in my carriage that I've been dutifully delivering from place to place.

I'm only a handful of hours in so far, but Locomoto has plenty to offer right off the bat, and it's just downright adorable. If you're looking for a cute little life sim, or the words train management calls to you, you'll want to get on board with this one.

Locomoto is out now on PC. For more recommendations, be sure to head check out our Indie Spotlight series.

Meet Emma de Beauvais, a burly strongwoman leading a party of medieval mercenaries in endless battles against ruffian rogues and sorcerous ne'er-do-wells for gold and glory. Her ability to bare-knuckle brawl is governed by a deck of cards, and I'm doing everything I can to draw Head Smash every time. Sure, the 10 damage plus 1 damage per combo is nice, but I keep using it just because it feels cool to slam heads against walls and tables, John Wick-style.

Knights in Tight Spaces is a deckbuilding tactics game, and if the idea of a turn-based strategy title where your cards determine what hand-to-hand moves you can use sounds familiar, you might've played the previous game from developer Ground Shelter, Fights in Tight Spaces. The follow-up, appropriately titled Knights in Tight Spaces, trades the slick action film aesthetics for a fantasy vibe, while keeping the deckbuilder-meets-tactics game basics intact. In fact, if you play purely as a brawler like Emma, Knights in Tight Spaces might feel like little more than a medieval reskin of its predecessor.

But Knights in Tight Spaces ups the ante with aspects you can't help but compare to Dungeons & Dragons. Most importantly, there's now a whole playable party of heroes, split between classes like brawlers, mages, and rangers. Controlling a whole group of heroes at once makes the battles exponentially more complex, but equally it's that much more satisfying when you put together a massive, party-wide combo that absolutely wrecks the enemy.

Dungeons & draw cards

Each battle in Knights in Tight Spaces takes place on a single-screen, tile-based board representing a location like a tavern or a stable. With each turn, you draw a hand of cards that let you move and attack, and you can spend momentum – a resource that refreshes every turn – or combo points – which build up as you attack – to deploy these cards in the fight.

Some cards have straightforward effects like "deal X damage" or "move X spaces," but most create more unique outcomes. A sweeping kick will deal less damage than most attacks, but it'll leave the enemy prone and unable to attack next round. You can use the shift card to move in a straight line, but you can also use it to slip to the far side of an enemy, and it makes for a very useful escape when you're cornered. Similarly, the grapple card can let you strong-arm an enemy into a useful position, but you can also use it on an ally to quickly yank them out of harm's way.

The positional game here especially is an absolute delight. Shuffling enemies to advantageous spots, kicking them into each other, and dodging their attacks to the degree that they start beating up each other is incredibly satisfying. The levels are built such that they keep widening the list of possibilities, giving you tables to slam heads on, rock formations to hide behind, and enticing windows to kick the bad guys through.

It gets even more satisfying once you start lining up combos for your whole party to take part in. An attack on a bad guy will trigger follow-up combo moves from relevant allies, whether that's a nearby brawler who'll take a free melee attack or an arrow shot from a distant archer who can take a straight-line shot halfway across the room.

The key limitation on your party is that you move every member with the same limited hand of cards each turn. Did you burn a movement card to move your brawler into position to drop kick that opposing mage into oblivion? Now that card is no longer an option to get your own spellcaster out of imminent danger.

Never reaching the end

All these layered systems help keep the battles engaging, but it also makes them really complex. There are plenty of difficulty options to help mitigate the pure challenge if you want that, but the game demands a cognitive investment from you that's going to keep expanding.

I like tactics games and I'm generally decent at recognizing the consequences of my actions, but Knights in Tight Spaces has so much to keep track of that I've regularly found myself committing to a move and immediately regretting it because of some reactive effect I've completely forgotten about.

That's why, for as much fun as I've been having with Knights in Tight Spaces, I'm finding myself thinking its predecessor – which focuses on just a single playable combatant with a single loadout of moves – might ultimately be more my speed. Yet, far from finding Knights' complexity frustrating, I'm fascinated by how its systems fit together.

Knights in Tight Spaces has kept orbiting in my brain even when I'm not playing it. Was I right to build a varied party of balanced classes the first time around? Or should I centralize around an all-brawler party so that I can prune my deck down to just the cards that best suit them? How would I best position my party to get a full, boss-destroying chain reaction going?

The fact that these questions are lingering in my head is probably the best indicator of a great deckbuilder, and even if I might need the training wheels of its simpler predecessor for now, you better believe I'm coming back to Knights in Tight Spaces so I can answer these questions once I've fully grokked the essentials. Emma deserves to reach glory, after all.

Knights in Tight Spaces is out now on PC. For more, check out our Indie Spotlight series.

"What is Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3 and why are there THREE of them?" This was my first question to our Features Editor when he suggested I play this game. Having lost about five hours of my life to it so far – and gladly so – I can safely answer the first of that two-part query.

I'm about 10 years too late for Candy Crush, but Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3 is finally the match-three game for me. Indie developer Strange Scaffold has a proven knack for weirdness, as as seen in last year's viral bizarro-fest Clickholding, but its wacky latest is a new beast entirely. The Steam page describes it as a "survival horror comedy RPG metroidvania," which is quite a lot of words for something this simple yet undoubtedly complex.

Checkpoint mate

It's also surprisingly heartfelt. As a game set within another game – specifically, the buggy recesses of an abandoned third entry in a series that does not exist – Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3's meta elements both satirize the craft of game development and pay homage to it.

It's a celebration of genres and subgenres, as proven by the alarmingly long title. Playing as freshly-minted police recruit J.J. Hardwell (which is totally not a reference to Resident Evil 2's own rookie cop, Leon S. Kennedy), I find myself at the gates of a spooky mansion (which is also totally not a reference to Resident Evil 1's Spencer Mansion). I'm told this is the domain of rogue superscientist Huncan Dockright III, and it's J.J.'s job to bring him down. But before I storm in to seek out the homeowner, the first of many obstacles crosses my path: a tall gate.

Creepy Redneck Dinosaur 3 plays out as a point-and-click RPG with onscreen text, winding choice-based pathways, and intermittent turn-based combat encounters against various kooky enemies - or in this case, situations to conquer. The story unfolds as you navigate the mansion's branching hallways and choose your path through it, gaining alternative ways to tackle each branch once J.J. acquires Traits from making other choices. Think "Cowardly," "Developing Calf Injury," and "Hacker Blood" to name a few.

Pathways are grouped in sets of about three to five opportunities, broken up every so often by pit stops to allow J.J. time to re-stock items, purchase inventory expansions, or travel between different parts of the mansion to re-explore them and possibly uncover new branches – and fight new enemies.

But Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3 is not your regular combat encounter, because combat here is always a game of connect-three.

A typical match has two stages: selecting two adjacent symbols to swap around, and using some actions beforehand. Some of these actions end your turn after use, but I'm relieved to find that inventory items like single-use bandages can be used in addition to your turn – as long as you take the action first. Each time you line up a set of at least three adjacent symbols, J.J. banks them. Collect a specific number of specific symbols, and he'll be able to take special actions, ranging from damaging your enemy to resetting their symbol count to ending the encounter immediately. Following so far? Good.

J.J. immediately knows something is off about this mansion. There's dinosaurs roaming it, for one, but it's only when he meets the enigmatic Huncan for himself, polishing glasses in a quaint home tavern, that he understands why. J.J. is in a video game – surprise! Not only that, but it's been long abandoned by the developers and left ridden with bugs, causing coding errors that have rendered the mansion even more dangerous of a prison to be trapped in than intended. Guess who has a new mission as Chief Debugging Officer? You do!

The devs in the detail

I could wax lyrical about the wonderful weirdness of Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3 for another 500 words, spoiling it for you in the process, and that truth is that I want to.

I want to tell you all about the zombie T-rex and the chainsaw clown. I want to tell you what happens with the librarian octopus, and how to handle Evil J.J., and where to unlock the best items to purchase from Huncan's tavern shop each time you end up there after clearing new pathway through the mansion (hint: the Cosmic Hourglass and Minigun are my favorites). But part of the joy of playing this game is to encounter its myriad oddities for yourself. Instead, I want to highlight why this game matters.

Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3 taught me more about game development than any other game I've played before. It delves into the stages of creation, from abandoned out-of-bounds corridors where unfinished assets sit in perpetual limbo to scrapped concepts, failed mechanics, and the hardships of sustaining a franchise.

Even the curious lack of actual rednecks is explained cleverly, scrawled on a discarded dev note I find partially flushed in a giant toilet buried deep in the slipstream. Strange Scaffold here builds a meta world framed by its own experiences, and for a comedy game, I find myself feeling more teary eyed than tickled by some of J.J.'s realizations.

Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3 is more than a goofy connect-3 game. Its message is something deeply personal yet identifiable, razor-sharp specific yet applicable anywhere. It's as hard to define as the myriad genres it pulls from, and that's what makes it such a joy to devote 10 hours of your life to. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some clones to set free.

Creepy Redneck Dinosaur Mansion 3 is out now on Steam. Check out all the other upcoming indie games of 2025 set to follow it!

The first thing I do in Look Outside is follow instructions. Clicking the window in my dingy, pixelated bedroom and pulling back the curtains – at the behest of a literal eyeball peeking out from the wall, no less – was never going to be a good idea. But if I was going to play a survival horror RPG, I felt it wise to know my enemy...

One of the most intriguing (and horrifying) new games of 2025, Look Outside is an eerie point & click adventure that has grabbed indie horror fans by the molars and refuses to let go. The solodev project from Francis Coulombe is equal measures scary and funny, riffing off the best survival horror games and pixel role-playing games like Stardew Valley to deliver an off-kilter scare-'em-up you won't soon forget.

Hell in the hallways

Your task is simple in Look Outside: don't look out the window (unless you want to see the game over screen), and try and stay alive for 15 days.

This should be enough time for the danger to pass, according to Sybil the wall eyeball. Yes she has a name, and yes she seems friendly. With limited food supplies and a scant array of leisurely items to pass the time, though, trying not to Look Outside over these 15 days sounds hard in itself. But that is why our intrepid hero must venture forth into the rest of the building to check on his neighbors, learn more about the phenomenon outside, and see just how strange things have gotten in this once-normal apartment block...

The thing that impresses me most about Look Outside is how clever it is. As a pixel RPG with a survival horror framework, my time is split between personal maintenance (not unlike The Sims 4), exploration, puzzles, and turn-based combat encounters. Digi-synth beats accompany me every step of the way, amping up the 80s sci-fi vibe as Look Outside's cramped world of nightmares grows more claustrophobic by the minute.

When I'm not facing the warped entities shuffling about the apartment building, I'm fighting to simply keep my body going. Eating, sleeping, showering, even brushing one's teeth are core aspects of the game's RPG systems; some actions boost health and stamina, earning a little XP while I'm at it, while others are about simply making time tick by and getting some nice status buffs. Playing a couple hours of video games is fun despite the more humble time sink, though it bestows a sense of Calm in the process. On the other hand, embarking upon four hours of crossword puzzles is "soul-crushingly boring" even if it does pass a good chunk of time.

If all these things help you maintain your stats, it makes sense that others can throw them into chaos. Especially when, ultimately, the best way to make time go faster in Look Outside is to muster up some courage and venture out of your apartment... if you dare.

Gnawing shadows

Dare, you should. Look Outside's savvy survival horror flair makes every dangerous trip outside your safe room more than worth the risk. Think grotesque enemies with uncomfortable names like Toothling, Teratoma, Observer, and Onlooker, as well as limited ammo, new weapons to find while exploring, and plenty of locked doors with hidden keys to hunt down as you investigate the curious happenings around you.

Unless playing on Easy mode, the only way to save is to go back to your apartment and chat to Sybil, much like collecting ink ribbons for typewriter saves in the best Resident Evil games. Thanks to the RPG elements, there's also a clothing equipment mechanic on top of your weapons loadout. So far, I've stumbled across a set of rags, a hoodie, and a tank top on my journey, each with requisite attack or defense buffs to give you an edge in combat.

The combat encounters themselves borrow elements from the best Pokemon games, but with insidious, horrific twists. Instead of a wild Clefairy appearing in tall grass, enemies lurk in the darkness all around. A circlet of dim yellow light surrounding your player character is often all that illuminates the space, whether running from an enemy down a never-ending hallway or creeping through a neighbor's apartment. You can click on a wandering enemy to start a battle yourself, but don't worry – they'll make a beeline straight for you if you don't. Look Outside's turn-based combat is simple but effective, with both regular and special attacks at your disposal.

Special attacks cost a little Stamina, and also pose a marginal risk. From a weapon being damaged to inflicting some damage upon yourself in the process, these risks do often pay off for the high reward output. I eventually get my hands on a pistol and some ammo, perfect for encounters with more powerful enemies, though upon encountering such foes, the game points out in a barefaced hint that "you feel the urge to run away". Since most health items cannot be used mid-combat, aside from tonics, sometimes it's best to hedge your bets and make a beeline for your safe room – unless you fancy committing the cardinal survival horror sin and wasting bullets on the small fry.

I've only experienced a few hours of Look Outside's quirky yet haunting universe, and I'm already charmed by it. Each in-game day that ticks by could be rife with boredom – it may well be possible to sit out the whole 15 day period with video games and pizza bites, for example – but the intrigue of it all keeps you exploring. What happened here? What are these extra-terrestrial beings that "burn away living essence" with a mere glance? What do I do with all this cash I've amassed? You never know what you'll find behind a locked door in Look Outside, from an overly friendly NPC who asks for a kiss in exchange for some photo film to a young man with teeth erupting across his entire face. I kissed the NPC. I killed the young man. I went home and ate some pizza bites. Life could definitely be worse, but hey – at least I didn't look outside (again).

Check out the very best horror games of all time for more chills and thrills

They say the house always wins. That's something Morgan, the gambling-obsessed star in Of the Devil, from nth Circle Studios, knows all too well. A public defender, her goal isn't just to get her clients off the hook from the mountain of digitally-obtained evidence in this hyper-surveilled cyberpunk city, it's to know when to push just enough to create doubt, and when to keep her chips close. That means leveraging evidence, personalities, and even her own secrets to push the odds in her favor as she tries to shatter arguments.

Mechanically, Of the Devil takes a lot of inspiration from both Ace Attorney and Danganronpa, combining the clue-based puzzles of the former with the stylish presentation of the latter. But it's not just an imitation, Of the Devil has plenty of its own style too. From Morgan's frequent vibe-shifting cutaways as she recalls moments of her past mid-squabble, to the gambling-theming of her face-offs with the police and DA. It's familiar but fresh.

Micro casino chips

Specifically, when in an argument and a thread of assumptions needs to be disproved, each point is laid down and attached to evidence like cards, giving Morgan space to consider a selection of her own evidence cards (not unlike Danganronpa's argument bullets) to overlay on the incorrect part of a statement. You'll also reach points where you can choose to Raise or Stay an argument, or to Call a bluff – essentially deciding on if you have the evidence to push an argument or need to let it sail by.

Getting things wrong isn't hyper punishing either (unless you play on high roller difficulty which, conversely, is a little much). But it does make disproving arguments feel good, while presenting each step in a way that's easy to follow along. Even in these early cases – episodically released, only Episode 0 (which is free!) and Episode 1 are out – there are times information can get a bit dense. But, as your selections are pared down when needing to present evidence, it's easy to dig through in the moment. At these points, additional information is bullet-pointed next to the evidence too which can be handy – though I do sometimes wish all these details were also indicated on the full clue's information.

Between playing out arguments like a game of poker, there's plenty of great writing. That's partially why info can feel so dense – like many visual novels, there's also things like a glossary of terms that unlocks as you poke around the world. The cyberpunk setting here brings together lots of genre elements and manages to find a fresh perspective into them through Morgan and her friends. Even if the individual building blocks may be things you've seen elsewhere, Of the Devil's way of experiencing them makes them novel again.

The writing is pithy and funny, but is also able to swing into some devastating territory as it makes you engage with a lot of the ideas on display – from androids taking jobs, to worker's rights, and lots and lots of surveillance. There's always a nice throughline on how even with all the surveillance there's still doubt on the cases to pick at, and hopefully the episodes to come continue to pull it off in interesting ways.

With great character designs and stylish presentation – there's lots of cut-ins or sometimes phone transitions – it's a joy to read through what happens next. A bopping soundtrack helps too, with plenty of moments to heighten the feeling that you've got one over on someone in an argument.

Of the Devil will also stop to allow Morgan to poke around some 3D-rendered rooms, either in real life or through augmented reality crime scenes. It's a nice change of pace even if they're fairly static, and can provide as much opportunity to think about the world through reading data logs as it does letting you sit with the implications of the evidence you're looking at. Again, it's still early in Of the Devil, but there have been some very clever deductions that turn each mystery on its head in each case so far.

Each mystery Morgan takes on seems to tie back into some central issues at the center of this world, and especially in regards to Morgan's own background. I'm holding my cards close here, and don't want to spoil anything, but there are some bold storytelling decisions early on that have me hooked… even if I'm wondering how they'll land by the full story's end once the cards are flipped over. Okay, one more hand – hit me.

Of the Devil's Episode 0 and Episode 1 are out now on PC via Steam.

For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series. Or if you're just looking for the best game stories, give that a read as well!

A while back I wrote about the wonderful slick movement in Penny's Big Breakaway, how all the dips and curves allowed for smooth and elegant player expression. Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom is also an (ahem) vehicle for player expression in a 3D platformer, that's also all about using level geometry to its fullest. Except here you take your colorful little cab, hit the boosters and ram into sharp angles at top speed to fling your transportation hero high into the sky at velocities that can feel almost game breaking.

Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom, from developer Panik Arcade, shares a similar philosophy to some of the 3D platforming greats. As a player, you're in control of your movement, and able to feel like you're taking advantage of the space to power through on your own terms to meet tricky challenges. But by having you smash headlong into solving those problems, even from the earliest stages, Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom is upfront about its tongue-in-cheek, joyous brashness.

Pedal to the metal

Playing early levels for the first time, you feel a little unsure about how to best make it through. Your taxi's moveset is, for the most part, quite stripped back and simple. You accelerate forwards, able to drift a little as you turn corners, and complete jumps by hitting a boost – which has you pause for a moment as a clockwork engine twists – shooting you forwards and into the air.

Quickly, you learn that you don't just need to fling yourself off simple ramps. Pretty much any angled surface, once you hit at speed, will send you soaring relative to its steepness like you're blasting into a pinball bumper. And, you learn, you can stall out your own boost to flip your car over, trading forward momentum for an extra hop into the air and improved maneuverability. It can almost feel game breaking at first until you realize later devious challenges are often built around having you exploit this in mind.

At the same time, though, there's the sense as you explore each vibrant level – everything is super colorful like a cross between Super Mario 64 and Katamari Damcy – that the developers aren't quite sure how far players will be able to break the movement, yet are extremely okay with letting you loose to try your best. Each level has you tracking down cogs to progress in an overworld – traditional collectathon stuff – and on my first go around initial stages there were quite a few that felt impossible to reach. It's not until going back to them, having learnt to master some of the almost game-breaking-feeling controls, that I learn just how much power you have to really toss the taxi all over the maps.

As you unravel the unique platforming mechanics, the world also feels increasingly off-kilter. Nothing about Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom is serious in the least, whether it's your mechanic creator Morio who shows you the ropes, to your quest to take down Alien Mosk with his evil extraterrestrial, hyper-corpo approach to automobiles. Levels range from strange arcades made up of twisting pipes, to Crazy Taxi-style timed challenges through somewhat more urban-style levels such as a whole town that revolves around pizza. Before you know it you're jumping around skyscrapers and castles, infiltrating secret bases, and dodging laser beams from dreamlike entities.

Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom is obviously made with a lot of love for 3D platforming classics, but it's in knowing all the expectations that Panik Arcade is able to set about breaking them apart one by one. With its hybrid of driving mechanics and willingness to allow you to use level geometry to rip through jumping challenges, and its bizarre off-kilter tone, there's really no other game like it, let alone another platformer. If you love platformers, and especially ones willing to get playful and inventive with their movement mechanics, this is one game you need to hail immediately. Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom is out now on PC.

For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series. Or if you're just looking for the best game stories, give that a read as well!

No one expects to wake up dead, let alone in the depths of a creepy basement in a dirtied nightgown. But that's exactly what happens to protagonist Liza in the opening of the RPG, Cabernet. As a newborn vampire who's mysteriously awakened in a dark room, my first task is naturally to try and escape this place and find out what the heck is going on.

Just moments before I was looking at my own grave, and hearing relatives speak of my life. The funeral ceremony actually acts as a clever way of introducing the different skill points I can invest in, since I'm immediately presented with choices that let me decide Liza's passions in life. Whatever I choose feeds into the four different areas of knowledge she has – such as science or logic, or writing and literature. These knowledge skills help to shape Liza as a character, but they also unlock special dialogue responses that can open up the way to unique resolutions and story directions, or increase my relationship with someone who has similar interests.

But none of my skills can help me right now, because I'm completely alone in this unsettling place, and the only way out is a door that's firmly locked. Thankfully, a mysterious mute figure on the other side agrees to help me through some communicative knocking on the door, and after making my way through a dank corridor, I soon emerge out into a gothic manor, slap bang in the middle of a grand hall where a soiree is taking place. The whole room is full of well-dressed guests that are all quick to take notice of my attire and unexpected visit. I certainly know how to make an entrance.

From here, I'm thrust into a world of fanged aristocracy as I learn the ropes of being a fresh bloodsucker in a fictionalized Eastern European town in the 19th century. And by Dracula have I absolutely loved sinking my teeth into the story and supernatural world so far. In fact, within just 30 minutes of developer Party for Introvert's vampire RPG, I was completely entranced by all of the role-playing ingredients it has to offer.

I (don't) want to suck your blood

Ever since I played Vampire The Masquerade – Bloodlines many years ago, I've been searching for another RPG like it. I loved the way it let me become different kinds of fanged fiends with vampiric powers, and decide if I wanted to try to retain my humanity or give into my bloodsucking ways and become a true creature of the night. In Cabernet, a lot of those ideas are present, with choices that constantly feed into Liza's humility or nihilism, which is this RPG's take on morality.

Being compassionate, understanding, and averse to harming others of course increases my humility, while using my vampiric powers for my own selfish benefit or for unhanded deeds will add to my nihilism meter. Interestingly, though, unlike some other morality systems, you can actually feed into both sides equally to make Liza a little more complex, which is something I'm very keen to play around with.

I also have four powers to use that really put me into my fanged role. With a wheel dial that lets me activate them at will once they're unlocked (provided no mortal is nearby to witness me doing it), I can shift into a bat to fly quickly from place to place around the town, sing a lullaby to enchant people – which allows me influence those I have a high enough affinity with in different ways (or just ready them for a spot of bloodsucking) – turn invisible, or change into my vampire form to bite willing necks. All of these powers come in handy in different scenarios, with a variety of side quests and main story objectives to complete that will often present me with the chance to put them into practice if I so choose.

I'm also entirely free to decide if I want to use my powers to take blood from others, or try to abstain and sup from a beverage (which is the game's namesake, Cabernet) that gives me the substance I need. No necks required. With a cup icon on the left side of the screen showing how much blood I have in my system, letting it run out will mean my eventual death. Should it get too low, I'll also move slower, and with a day and night cycle and the threat of the sunrise always looming, there's a survival element to the game.

If things get desperate in the blood department – like say, I run out of money for more vials of Cabernet, or I have no one nearby to enchant – there is another way around it. You can always take blood from unsuspecting bunnies in a nearby forest (something I haven't been able to bring myself to do just yet).

High stakes

As a new vampire, my sire is a doctor in the town, who I take up residence with and help out since Liza had a background in medicine when she was alive. With the story broken up into chapters, each taking place over the course of several days, I have a calendar to keep track of how much time I have to complete side quests or objectives before a pivotal event shifts the story into the next chapter.

Each night that I awaken, I'm free to go about the town as I wish, getting to know residents, completing tasks, and exploring, but I only have a certain amount of action points I can use. Whenever I do an action, a chunk of time will be taken up on the clock, and I have to be mindful of when the sun will rise so I can go back to the safety of my room and settle down in my coffin for the morning.

There are so many stories to explore and characters to get to know as I go about my business, and the fact that I can develop romantic relationships if I so wish is a big bonus. The core questline is one that's filled with mystery and intrigue, too, and I can't wait to discover where it will lead me next. Above all, it's great to find a new RPG that has choices with meaningful consequences, and I've already been able to prevent bloodshed, help someone realize their dream, and circumvent what seemed like certain tragedy through my actions and decisions.

It's been a long time since I've been able to delve into such an engrossing vampire RPG, with the last being Don't Nod's deliciously dark Vampyr back in 2018. But Cabernet has been giving me my fill of fangs and blood, complete with lots of nods to classic vampire lore that I absolutely love – such as having to be invited into a place to enter. I have six hours of playtime under my Victorian dress, but it's already safe to say there's definitely going to be a re-play in my future. If you're looking for a rich vampire RPG to take a bite out of, I can't recommend Cabernet enough.

Cabernet is out now on PC, PS4, PS5, Xbox One, Xbox Series X/S, and Switch. For more, check out our Indie Spotlight series.

If noir thrillers and crime fiction have taught me anything over the years, it's that every grizzled detective has some kind of vice or inherent problem to contend with. That's certainly true of many of the great video game gumshoes I've become acquainted with in the indie scene. From Frog Detective who's constantly overshadowed by number one investigator, Lobster Cop, to Eugene McQuacklin of Duck Detective fame who has a financially ruinous penchant for bread, no sleuth is without their flaws. Now I find myself in the shoes of another animal PI – only this time it's a humanoid bipedal cat who's flat broke thanks to some dicey horse-related gambling debts.

Yes, even in Cat Detective Albert Wilde, the titular feline has his flaws. But when you've got the added pressure of an empty wallet and an angry moose demanding reimbursement, you have all the more incentive to solve a case you come across to score yourself the reward money. The point-and-click-style adventure from developer beyondthosehills clocks in at around six hours, and it's absolutely dripping with humor, weird antics, and an aesthetic look and feel that's heavily inspired by 1930's noir. The case it takes me on really lives up to Albert's name by going to some wild(e) places, and I'm curious to see how it'll come to a close. But if you're in need of a good laugh and some investigative goodness, it's well worth checking out.

Feline findings

The '30s noire inspirations are obvious right away, with Cat Detective Albert Wilde greeting me into the story with credits that play in an old-timey frame you'd normally see in movies of that decade. There's also a constant grainy film visual that lends it that gritty gumshoe feel and brings to mind the likes of Angels with Dirty Faces and the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. I'm immediately taken with Albert's monologuing, which is constantly filled with lines that wouldn't be out of place in any noir detective romp, if only for the fact that he often says humorous cat-related versions. "I'm always on the prowl… for the truth, for criminal scum, for a nice bowlful of milk when I get the chance" is just one line of many that comes to mind.

Pretty much right away you learn that Albert is down-on-his-luck, with no money to his name after a spot of gambling. With no coin and no case, my first objective is simple: find a job. After failing to smooth talk my way to a copy of a newspaper from a salesman who has a bird's head (every character has an animal head imposed onto a human body which gives it a weird uncanny look), I have to talk to a moose called Rudy who it turns out I owe money to. Fortunately against his better judgement, he loans me just one more dollar so I can snap up a paper and search for job listings.. aka any news about local crimes to enquire about.

When I'm in control, it switches to a first person view in an entirely black and white setting. Anytime I can interact with something, it's highlighted by a little yellow dot, such a can lying in the street. When I go over and click on the discarded can near the newsstand as I search for work, Albert questions why he's even bothering to look at it, and I'm reminded of the many times I've picked up a piece of garbage in LA Noire and inspect it, which would lead protagonist Cole to say aloud "it's just junk". But you never know what a clue might be, and I'm nothing if not a thorough investigator.

Once I find a newspaper clipping about a mysterious dead body, I'm on the phone to the police chief to ask about the investigation, but as is ever the case for Albert, I've apparently wronged them in some way, too. Practically everyone I meet is either pretty reluctant to help, or not especially pleased to see me, but such is the life of a flawed feline PI who has to do a lot of snooping. Once the chief eventually gives up the information I need and lets me in on the case– thanks to my incessant calling from an old fashioned boxed telephone hanging in my office – I can open up a map and travel to the crime scene.

Each time I change location on the map, be it to a point of interest, or my office, it will switch to a brief cutscene of Albert driving his era appropriate car, and I love the way he'll continue narrating throughout the journey. It really is so very noir. At the scene, I get stuck into classic investigative work, which is quite simple: talk to people (or in this instance a flamingo) of interest nearby, and look at objects that might serve as clues. First off, though, I need to look at the body, which is where things start getting weird… because the body has Albert's face, but the cat on the ground appears to have been walking on four legs instead of two… what is the world coming to?

The flamingo witness is the next port of call, but the pink feathered fellow refuses to give up any pertinent information unless I agree to impress them by dancing. I may have seven lives, but I don't have the moves I need, so it's off to the dance studio to learn a new routine. At this point I fully accept that you'll never be able to predict what will happen next in this particular crime caper, but it's all the better for it.

Because of that, I don't want to spoil any more – it's the kind of experience worth going into without too much knowledge. All I'll say is that from my foray into the world of dance, you can venture into some sewers, meet a praying mantis, and maybe even come across some quantum physics-based escapades. Yes, really. If that doesn't pique your interest, I don't know what will. If you're in need of a good chuckle and something silly, surprising, and a bit strange, here's a clue: don't miss this one.

Cat Detective Albert Wilde is out now on PC. For more recommendations, check out our Indie Spotlight series or see what's ahead with our roundup of upcoming indie games.

A woman is dragged away by the guards, howling pitifully, and suddenly I'm thrown into The Stone of Madness headfirst. Playing as imprisoned Father Alfredo Martin as he navigates this crumbling monastery and the dark secrets within – including its dual-functionality as an asylum – my first mission is to rescue her.

But the path to her chamber is fraught with all manner of dangers. As a "patient" in the asylum, locked up for trying to expose the horrors behind its walls, Alfredo needs to use stealth to his advantage as well as holding tight to his sanity, banishing spirits (imaginary or real?) known as ànima, and leading his small group of renegade inmates to freedom – or die trying. The mechanics of this RTT adventure will be familiar to any fan of Desperados 3, Shadow Gambit, or similar Mimimi Games' titles – but Blasphemous developer The Game Kitchen goes the extra mile when it comes to incorporating some seriously spooky themes into the mix. All of these elements work together to create a brilliantly tense narrative experience, hewn together with clever stealth tactics that reflect its unique world and transform the scenario into something even more high stakes – and that's just the first hour.

Style and substance

The smooth blending of theme and function is one of the things I'm enjoying most about The Stone of Madness. As a stealth strategy experience set in a very well-articulated world, the developer reshapes genre staples to abide by a new set of rules that constantly remind the player of where and what they're playing. An example of this? The ever-present vision cone.

To spot the enemy vision cones, it's a matter of swivelling the right Nintendo Switch joystick. A small arrow appears at the base of my character, and pointing it in a given direction reveals not only any nearby enemy (in the early game's case, usually an asylum warden) but a green cone indicating their field-of-vision. Usually, getting caught in one of these is the worst thing you can do in the best stealth games – but here's where The Stone of Madness starts doing things a little differently. Wardens, tasked with monitoring inmates throughout the monastery, don't react to Alfredo's presence all of the time. In certain areas where he is meant to be, like the gardens or other communal areas, passing through their vision cones is totally acceptable – unless he is trying to steal something or sneak off to a restricted zone. But of course, to reach that crying woman from earlier, I have to send Alfredo into one of these restricted zones – and right past one of his greatest fears.

The Stone of Madness's fear and sanity system is tied to the "negative disorders" each protagonist suffers from, corresponding to their personal traumas. As a holy man, Alfredo fears corpses and violent situations, while gentle giant Eduardo's fear of the dark is a result of his many years spent in solitary confinement. The longer a character spends exposed to their fears, the further they chip away at their precious sanity, which adds even greater friction to the already tense stealth systems at play. Still, with Eduardo now in tow, Alfredo's mission to rescue the crying woman is that much closer to completion, all thanks to the mute man's set of Revelations.

These special skills, held by individual protagonists respectively, vastly increase your chances of success when used in tandem with others. Alfredo's lamplight is useful for finding hidden clues around the monastery, for example, exposing hidden passageways. Meanwhile, Eduardo's brawn allows him to push crates and clear said passageways for the group to progress. It's thanks to this strength that I see the duo distract a guard to sneak past them unnoticed, and all it took was chucking some rubble down the stairs.

Narrative and historical context clues start piling up as I unlock more protagonists, shading in each character's personality, backstory, and suggesting their differing experiences of life in 18th century Spain.

After stepping into a rec room as Eduardo, for example, searching for said rubble to throw as a distraction tactic, I position him in front of a nearby sign and discover that he can't read. He's still vastly more respected than newcomer Alfredo in the eyes of the other inmates, who are much friendlier to Eduardo and will readily turn a blind eye to his sneaky acts. Meanwhile, feisty Leonora has no qualms about knocking out a guard or two with her trusty plank of wood, vengeance for the ill treatment of women being held in the facility, though she does feel a twinge of guilt when she must assassinate them. It all speaks to how thoughtfully each character has been integrated with the story and its context, this characterization further established in short animated cutscenes peppered throughout the adventure in refreshing, cinematic bursts.

The more I uncover about The Stone of Madness, the more the intrigue eats away at me. It's a slow and steady mystery to uncover, your patience rewarded with each layer peeled back and each new character recruited. It's my favorite kind of Nintendo Switch experience, perfect to pick up and play between the litany of new games yet to come in 2025, and I can't wait to see how the story plays out – and where exactly this crying woman is hiding...

Here's all the upcoming PC games coming in 2025 and beyond.

Steam Next Fest is upon us once again, bringing with it a veritable barrage of demos for you to sample. But with thousands of demos available, which ones are worth your time, bearing in mind that a lot of them will disappear next week? We've trawled through tons of demos to make a list of the 10 very best demos for you to try out.

From roguelike city builders to eldritch doctor simulations, there are loads of exciting upcoming indie games to try out. The Next Fest started on Monday, February 25th, and will run until Monday, March 3rd. As previously mentioned, a lot of these demos are time-limited, and will be unavailable when Next Fest ends. While this list can't include every great demo, we've done our best to make sure that this list covers a variety of genres, so there's bound to be something for you.

Scroll down and check out our picks for the very best demos in the latest Steam Next Fest!

10. The King is Watching

Developer: Hynohead
Release date: TBC
Try the demo here

A game quite unlike anything I've ever played, The King is Watching meshes city builder, roguelike, and almost idle game mechanics to create a unique experience. You have a grid-based city to build different resource-generating buildings on, such as a wheat field or a market, each of which relies on other resources to build or operate. Here's the thing: your subjects are a bunch of lazy sods who will only work when you're watching them, and to start off with, you can only watch three tiles at once, so you'll need to think carefully about where you place each building to ensure maximum productivity, lest ye perish.

9. Monster Train 2

Developer: Shiny Shoe
Release date: TBC
Try the demo here

Monster Train was, until Balatro released, my favourite deckbuilder, and I'm happy to say that Monster Train 2 looks set to build on the original. The demo has new clans to play with, as well as new cards. It also seems a touch harder than the original to me, but that may just be where I'm out of practice. If you love deckbuilders and want to sample what is likely to be one of the best this year, play the demo and see if it tickles your fancy. Be warned though, the demo is hard to put down, and I had to pry myself away from it.

8. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Tactical Takedown

Developer: Strange Scaffold
Release date: TBC
Try the demo here

If you grew up on TMNT, this turn-based tactics game is a real treat. Brought to us by Strange Scaffold, which seems an odd choice given the often-transgressive nature of their previous games like Life Eater and I Am Your Beast, TMNT: Tactical Takedown is an XCOM-alike with an emphasis on a very radical 90s approach to visual design, with strong mobility mechanics, morphing maps, and stage events; like a car running down your turtle as you fight Foot Clan through the streets. This may have happened to me more than once. It's fun, engaging, and totally tubular, dude!

7. Dagger Directive

Developer: Arcane Alpacas
Release date: TBC
Try the demo here

This title, which might as well be called Felta Dorce, is an incredible throwback to the Delta Force series of yore. The demo throws you into a large map with an array of weaponry (after some compulsory training) and just, wow, frankly. You can pick any loadout that you want – I went in with a sniper rifle and an assault rifle, expecting a fairly easy mission, and I was entirely mistaken. I got made crossing a hillside, and after taking down two enemies with my sidearm, the entire nearby base was on my back. The AI is good enough to be a real challenge, using smoke grenades to cover their advances and the like, but also not smart enough to make you feel powerless. I'm extremely excited to see where this game goes.

6. Is This Seat Taken?

Developer: Poti Poti Studio
Release date: TBC
Try the demo here

A really fabulous and novel puzzle game, Is This Seat Taken? is all about keeping people comfortable. The people, in this case, little blobs in various shapes, each have their own preferences and it's up to you, as the hand of God, to decide where they sit or stand. You do this across a range of different vehicles and venues, ranging from taxis to buses, cinemas to concerts. The character traits are varied and interesting, including people who want to talk to another person, people who want to sleep, partners, parents and children, and many more. The demo isn't too difficult but it can be tricky to, for example, give someone a window seat and allow them to sit next to their child, who wants to sit next to another kid, when the buses only have two seats per side. Cute, fun, and unique, I can ask only one thing: Is Your SSD Taken?

5. Do No Harm

Developer: Darts Games
Release date: March 6, 2025
Try the demo here

Have you ever had aspirations of being a doctor? How about living in Innsmouth? Okay, that second one is less common, but in Do No Harm, you can't have one without the other. You take on the role of the town's new doctor and need to work out what's wrong with everyone, beside the Lovecraftian gribblies that you keep seeing during your work day. Forget evidence-based medicine, too – we're going back to bodily humours, baby! A really neat title that meshes Papers, Please-style observational gameplay with insanity effects and quite gross medical problems, including parasites, everyone's favorite, Do No Harm is well worth a look.

4. Wheel World

Developer: Messhof
Release date: TBC 2025
Try the demo here

Enter a world that is so bike-obsessed, it makes the Netherlands look like it's not even trying. This game from Messhof, the team behind Nidhogg, Nidhogg 2 and Flywrench, puts you into a beautifully cel-shaded world, gives you a rusty bike and a smart aleck skull companion and tasks you with becoming a bike master. The demo hints at a story involving legendary bike parts and a tumultuous and essential event called the Great Shift (like a gear, you see). The demo's pretty short, but the racing is great fun and the world seems to have a really great sense of humour. Pro-tip: my GTA-pilled brain was tapping the right trigger to pedal, but you can just hold it down. Oh, and to make it even more razor-focused to my specific interests, it has a soundtrack from Italians Do It Better, the record label behind bands like Chromatics and Desire.

3. Wanderstop

Developer: Ivy Road
Release date: March 11, 2025
Try the demo here

If you love cozy games, look no further than Wanderstop. A new game from the creator of The Stanley Parable, this is a game about knowing when to stop and take a breather. In this demo, you'll stagger through woods and collapse, exhausted, before being rescued by a very friendly man called Boro, who makes terrible jokes that I still love. The demo effectively gives you a tutorial for the full game, showing you how to sow seeds and make tea, and it's a delight. We all need a reminder now and then to take a break, and Wanderstop's demo is a joyous little slice of life that does just that, with some wonderful dialogue between the grumpy Alta, our protagonist, and the cheerily unflappable Boro.

2. High Seas, High Profits!

Developer: lexy.zip
Release date: March 31, 2025
Try the demo here

Do you like making money? Do you like sailing the seven seas and completing quests? Then, perhaps unsurprisingly, given its title, you'll probably love High Seas, High Profits. The gameplay loop is simple – find goods that one town makes, take it to another that needs them – boom, you've got a profit. But that only scratches the surface – there are quests (for instance, delivering sacks of salt for a wealthy family's wedding, you can build ships to add to your fleet, and keep your ships in good working order. It calls to mind a more user-friendly Port Royale, or a heady mix of the world map from Sid Meier's Pirates! and the feeling of making money in Stonks-9800.

1. Skin Deep

Developer: Blendo Games
Release date: April 30, 2025
Try the demo here

By far and away the funniest game that I've played during Next Fest, Skin Deep is a brilliant immersive sim/FPS from the creator of Thirty Flights of Loving and Quadrilateral Cowboy. You are Nina Pasadena, an insurance policy made flesh, protecting ships from pirates in deep space. Oh, and the crew are all cats. Why? Who knows. Does it matter? Not one bit: it's worth it for the slo-mo "MEOW" they let out when you rescue them.

Yet don't think that this is just an FPS that is funny, it really is an immersive sim as well. In one encounter, I made a pirate sneeze by throwing pepper at him, smashed him into two washing machines, removed his head, which was still very much alive and angry at me (it's how they respawn, I'm not a monster), and flushed it down a trash chute (okay, maybe I am). His friend then spotted me and let off a shot, but I hid under a cabinet, threw soap on the floor to make her trip and gave her the same treatment. It's got so much personality, and I really, really love it.

To see what indie games we've been enjoying in 2025, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series.

While Waiting is a video game you play by and while waiting. That might sound simple and straightforward, but the charming puzzle game from developer Optillusion is only simple and straightforward on the surface. While you absolutely can just… wait, every scene is actually full of delightful secrets and Easter eggs to uncover, which range from simple and straightforward to wildly complex and shockingly convoluted. I should be clear: I mean that as a compliment.

There's really no easy comparison to better understand the concept of While Waiting, but the closest I've come when talking about it with others is taking the general vibe of Untitled Goose Game and applying it to killing time. You don't really have to do anything, and in fact the game will largely move forward entirely without any input from you at all, and any behavior beyond that is arguably completely unnecessary.

Killing time

Not that I would actually recommend doing nothing at all; it's merely an option the game technically supports. The real goodness, the nougat at the center of While Waiting, is everything that it technically allows you to do, well, while waiting. The game is mechanically a series of vignettes or scenes with timers that range in length (and generally are not known to the player) with the only stated goal being to wait until something happens. Wait until someone texts back, wait to fall asleep, wait for class to end. But just outside the confines of all of these are a wide variety of shenanigans in which to partake.

Exactly how to accomplish these shenanigans is hinted at in two ways. A little notebook has a brief description of what you could possibly also do in addition to nothing at all, and a series of stickers in the upper right of the screen has some visual clues. If you successfully achieve whatever secondary objective, boom, you get the sticker in your notebook. Each scene ranges in just how many of these extracurricular activities exist as well as how involved they all are, which is honestly part of the appeal.

Highlighting all of the ways that While Waiting can surprise and delight would ruin it somewhat, or at the very least dim the sheen, but it does feel worthwhile just to give some idea of the range. These extra objectives and opportunities can be trying and failing to squeeze between two people on a bench. Simple enough. Or, as just one example, it can be rolling a shishkabob along an unevenly lit grill, trying to get it cooked on both sides, without burning it in a sokoban-like puzzle of back and forth turning and dragging. I literally had nightmares about that one, I kid you not.

Time enough

But even when those little puzzles turn out to be big puzzles and the easy solve becomes much, much more involved, While Waiting doesn't take itself particularly seriously. Yes, these can be significant logic puzzles, but you can also just leave that all behind to slowly (and sometimes very slowly) wait for the next scene to roll around. You only have to engage with what engages you, and if the part where digging in a drawer suddenly becomes a Tetris-like minigame isn't your speed, well, you can just move on instead.

While Waiting might, at first blush, seem like a gimmick. The whole game is about waiting, the worst part of most video games. But the puzzle game does the impossible and actually makes the act of waiting around for something to happen fun. Beyond the puzzles and activities and charmingly minimalist art design, there's really nothing extra to the video game… except a dedicated button for bringing up and playing with a fidget toy of some kind. You know, to help keep you engaged while waiting.

While Waiting is out now on Nintendo Switch and PC. To see what other indie gems we've been enjoying so far, be sure to check out our Indie Spotlight series.

What is a great adventure game – I'm talking the likes of Monkey Island, Sam & Max, King's Quest – but a series of screens? And what is a train if, in essence, a series of screens? (Look, we all have our ways of dealing with travel stress). It makes the railway setting for Loco Motive, from Robust Games, which takes place on luxury train the Reuss Express, the perfect avenue for throwing coal on the fire of retro-styled adventuring gaming, and the results are a real toot!

Arthur Ackerman provides the perfect introduction to this many-wheeled murder mystery. On the surface, as a lawyer who loves paperwork, this will-penning leading man may seem a little dry – but, almost Guybrush Threepwood-esque, his hapless demeanor makes him the perfect foil for stumbling upon comically complex puzzles aplenty. So single-minded is he on his precious papers, that he carries a real himbo energy for everything else, making getting to grips with the cast of characters and different train compartments a joy.

Investigation derailed

Not only a series of screens, the nature of the train setting that makes up the majority of Loco Motive's environment also means each screen can serve a very clear purpose. One of those old timey-style posh sleeper trains, rather than the commuter to London Paddington, there's a sleeper carriage that offshoots to other rooms; a dining carriage with its own bar; a kitchen where struggling chefs attempt to corral dinner; an entertainment carriage with its own stage, complete with VIP green room; and even a casino full of high-rollers. And, rather than having to worm in and out of buildings, they're only a click away as you move from carriage to carriage – Arthur and company (there's three characters overall) able to run at speed between them.

At times, this can still mean a bit of backtracking as you dash to and fro. Especially as for the most part Loco Motive takes a "more is more" approach to its inventory that ends up stuffed to the brim in no time at all. Yet, a nicely arranged chapter system helps to avoid overwhelm, making the parameters of your objectives between each one quite clear, handing off between protagonists not only refreshing your main goal and inventory but stopping things from spinning too wildly out of control. Because of the enclosed setting, you can even carry an amount of foreknowledge about locations and events that can prompt you on what to investigate as a different character in the next chapter.

But, what's most important for an adventure game to nail, for me, is a sense of character – and every element of Loco Motive feeds into this. Whether it's exuberant animated sequences that have lashings of cartoon 'squash and stretch' movement; dialogue trees with enough silly responses for you to want to hear them all; and plenty of 'aha' moments as oddball ideas for how to smash together inventory pieces to solve conundrums actually pays off. The gorgeous pixel artwork and terrific audio design make it feel like this train has taken me through a tunnel to the past, and I'm right back playing my favorite LucasArts adventure games yet again.

I'm only left wishing, by the end, that Loco Motive was able to go a bit more off the tracks than it does. While early non-train screens are little more than simple tutorials, the ones that come later really showcase some smart design that extends the principles of the connected 'screens' that make up each carriage.

Minor spoiler warning, perhaps, but here at the end you get to play as all three characters at once, able to switch between them a little like in the classic Day of the Tentacle. The puzzles here come from the very limited interactions each is able to perform in their own mini-spaces, and how they can shunt items back and forth, and affect the puzzles active in other characters' areas.

These end up being quite straightforward, perhaps in part because once introduced there's only an hour or so left in the game, but they end up being the ones that delight me the most. With less ground to cover, the characters and the puzzles really come to the forefront, highlighting the areas where the game rocks the most. I'm left wanting more, yet satisfied with the journey I undertook, which is all to say that yes, I'd love to board the Reuss Express for a second trip any time – let's get that puzzlebook passport another stampin'.

Loco Motive was played on PC with a code provided by the publisher

Loco Motive is out now on PC and Switch. For more recommendations, head on over to our Indie Spotlight series. Or, check out our best game stories list for more!