I was on the fence for a long time about Tormented Souls. I kept seeing it come up in videos about modern, classic survival horror games. People kept insisting that it was good. But I had played the demo back near its release in 2021, and I wasn't really impressed. So it sat on my wishlist for years, waiting for a steep discount. That discount finally came, I bought the game, installed it, and it still sat on my PS5, un-played, for months.

But when College Football 26 turned out to be a borderline un-playable dumpster fire, and without having enough free space on my hard disk to install Indiana Jones and the Great Circle's 130-gig install, I found myself with extra free gaming time on my hands, and decided to look for some relatively quick games to play in my back catalog. It was either this or Crow Country, and I decided to give Tormented Souls the nod. Besides, Tormented Souls is supposed to be getting a sequel soon, so I wanted to play the first one, in case the sequel gets really good reviews, and I want to play that sooner rather than later.

Part of the reason that I was on the fence about the game was that I had concerns about the maturity level of the game and it's developers. The design of the player character is kind of ridiculous. Is she supposed to look like an anime character? Her default outfit looks like something you'd see an anime maid wearing, and they go out of their way to pull her tits out in the opening cutscenes. It all seems like it's designed to titillate a particular demographic that doesn't exactly have a reputation for having a mature or healthy view of women.

I could not take the main character's default outfit seriously.

It would be one thing if the game were going for some kind of dis-empowerment gimmick, and actually gave the player control of the character while she's naked and vulnerable. But they don't. She gets dressed during the fade-to-black between the end of the opening cutscene and the player taking control for the first time. So the outfit and nudity all seem rather pointless.

It seems like even the developers understood the ridiculousness of their design, since they include an optional alternate outfit for her in a locker in the starting room. This alternate outfit includes a more practical (and less revealing) pair of jeans with a leather jacket. I actually didn't notice this outfit until after I died and had to restart the game, but once I found it after the restart, I couldn't switch to it fast enough. At least now, I could take the character and game more seriously -- pending finding out if the game's story and scenario are equally silly and immature.

Nostalgic call-backs

Was the story as bad as I was afraid?

Well, no. Not really.

It's mostly fine.

If anything, Tormented Souls isn't so much "immature", as it is derivative. From the start, many audio cues and music sound like they are pulled straight out of a PS1 Resident Evil game. The improvised weapons give slight Dead Space vibes. And as the game goes on, it's story should feel more and more familiar to anyone who played through the original Silent Hill, except without all the clever symbolism and references to real-world alchemical and occult beliefs that help gave Silent Hill its uncanny tangibility.

If the bar is set at "less smart version of Silent Hill", then I guess things could be a lot worse.

Gameplay-wise, Tormented Souls feels more like the original Resident Evil with its static cameras, tight hallways with monsters hiding around blind corners, and a save system that requires a consumable resource to save your game. There's no magic item box though, as you carry all your supplies and puzzle items on your person at all times, including multiple weapons, a crowbar, a hammer, a car battery, and other large, bulky items that definitely don't fit into those pouches slung around Caroline's waist.

You will be blindly pointing weapons at enemies off-screen.

It definitely does have the classic survival horror feel, with some modern bells and whistles. For one thing, it borrows the REmake design of mapping the character-based tank movement to the direction pad, while keeping directional camera-based analog control on the left joystick. The tight halls and frequent camera cuts make it difficult to use the analog stick when navigating the mansion halls, and there were multiple places where trying to do so resulted in me turning around in circles multiple times. There were even a couple places later in the game where the camera glitched out and got stuck rapidly flickering between 2 angles. For situations like these, it's great to have the tank controls.

This game came out of nowhere for me. I hadn't heard of it or seen previews for it until it was released. I saw a trailer that made me add it to my wishlist to maybe purchase if it went on sale. But when I overheard a co-worker talking about it, I decided to go ahead and purchase it and start playing, so that we would have an opportunity for some water cooler talk.

Blue Prince is, at the simplest level, a puzzle game. But simply calling it a "puzzle game" doesn't quite do it justice, because it is a wholly unique blend of different video game genres, all packaged together in a way that feels more like a board game. It is a puzzle game, for sure, but it is also a rogue-like, and an adventure game (in the vein of classic 90's point-and-clicks). It utilizes a unique tile-placement mechanic that feels almost like playing a digitized version of a board game akin to Betrayal At House On The Hill (minus the overt horror theming).

The player takes on the role of a young heir to a family estate. But the inheritance comes with a catch! The house has a shape-shifting layout, with each room being placed from a pool of randomly-selected rooms, each time you open a new door. In order to earn the inheritance, the player character must navigate the shifting mansion, solve its myriad puzzles, and find your way to the elusive, hidden 46th room. But there's another catch! You cannot take anything from outside into the mansion, nor can you remove anything from the mansion, and its layout resets each day. This creates the rogue-like element.

Blue Prince's room-drafting mechanic feels similar to a tile-placement tabletop game.

Each day, you have a finite amount of stamina, and when that stamina runs out, you are forced to your campsite outside the home to rest for the night. When you wake up the next morning, you will have to start the exploration of the house over again from scratch. Well, mostly from scratch. You'll be armed with the accumulated knowledge from your previous explorations, as well as some permanent upgrades.

As such, Blue Prince straddles the line between "rogue-like" and "knowledge-based" game. The vast majority of the board resets each day, but you do keep some persistent elements of progress, so you don't have to memorize everything or repeat the same steps for certain activities over and over again, every time.

A puzzling house

Blue Prince is a heavily-randomized game, for the better and the worse. Every time you open a new door, you'll be given a choice of 3 semi-randomly-selected rooms to draft on the other side of the door. Opening certain doors requires the use of keys, and certain rooms may require that you spend gems, both of which can be collected within the mansion. Rooms may contain a puzzle, items, clues to the over-arching story, or some combination of the 3. Rooms may also have special effects that are triggered by drafting the room, by entering it, or by using certain objects within it.

Different rooms have different abilities.

For example, there is a "Drawing Room" that allows you to re-draw new rooms, if the rooms you drew weren't to your liking. And then there are rooms like the Parlour and Billiards Room, which always contain a logic or math puzzle that awards resources if solved. There are also "red" rooms that penalize the player for drafting or entering them, such as the Chapel, which collects a tithe from your purse of coins each and every time you enter.

Perhaps equally importantly, each room also has a different configuration of doors. Some rooms only have the single doorway, turning them into dead ends. Most rooms, have 2 doorways (the one you came in through, and a second exit that goes in a different direction). Some rooms and hallways have 3 or 4 doorways. If you run out of new doors to go through, then your day will also end, on account of there is nowhere else for you to go.

This combination of room abilities, resources, puzzles, and door configurations creates a lot of strategy for how you choose to layout the mansion on any given day. Do you focus on exploring new rooms to find as many of the puzzles and clues as you can? Or do you try to bee-line due north to the antechamber every day? In any case, how do you place rooms in order to accomplish your goal?

There is a surprisingly huge collection of different rooms, along with some clever and creative abilities for some rooms. There's also items that the player can use to solve puzzles or manipulate the environment. This creates a lot of tough decisions regarding how best to spend your limited resources. However, knowing that you'll loose all of those resources in the next day, liberates the player to feel like you can and should spend your resources whenever possible. There is no point in hoarding resources, the way you might save up all your most powerful ammunition in a survival horror game, only for the game to end before you've ever used it.

The puzzles in this game are no joke! Things start off simple, but they gradually ramp up. The puzzles aren't insanely difficult to solve on an intellectual level, but they require a lot of meticulous exploration and careful observation. There are plenty of puzzles and clues that are hidden in plain sight, and you'll walk right by them dozens of times without realizing there's something there, until you find a document or clue somewhere else, hours later, that makes you say "wait a minute, those were puzzles?!"

Some rooms have respawning logic and math puzzles.

This is another one that's been sitting at the top of my wishlist for a quite a while. The Forgotten City is one of the handful of games that was made a few years back, during the big "time loop" craze. Following Outer Wilds, there games like 12 Minutes, Death Loop, Returnal, and a few others -- including The Forgotten City. Sadly, I didn't get around to playing The Forgotten City at the time, and it's been sitting on my wishlist, waiting to go on sale. That sale finally happened earlier this year!

When I played Outer Wilds after its Steam release (I refused to give money to Epic), it quickly catapulted into the shortlist for one of my favorite games ever! If The Forgotten City was going to be anything close to Outer Wilds, then I knew it was going to be something that I would like.

But really, the similarities kind of begin and end with the time loop gimmick. Outer Wilds is a knowledge-based, open world, sci-fi puzzle game in which the player uses their understanding of the in-game laws of physics and the schedule of the solar system, to solve a giant game-long puzzle. Forgotten City is more of a traditional inventory-based narrative adventure, which mostly consists of exploration and dialogue.

Put simply, the player travels back in time to an ancient Roman city that is stuck in a time loop. The citizens of the city are bound by a "Golden Rule", imposed by a vindictive god, that says that if anybody in the city commits a crime, everyone in the city will die. So far, nobody has tried to break the rule, to find out if it's true. The player must learn everything you can about the city and its inhabitants, in order to try to figure out which god is responsible for this situation, and hopefully find a way to get yourself out -- and maybe save the city's citizens while you're at it.

The Forgotten City was one of several games (along with Outer Wilds) in a short-lived time-loop fad.

It's about damned time!

Forgotten City does not require the player to memorize the exact schedule in which all the events in the city happen. In fact, certain events kindly wait for the player to arrive before they trigger, meaning that you can do things in pretty much whatever order you want. The game also includes a quest log and objective markers, telling you exactly where to go, and giving you a good idea of what to do when you get there.

The puzzles basically come in 2 flavors: dialogue-based logic puzzles, and inventory puzzles. Inventory puzzles are pretty basic, and usually require the player to simply have the item or use it in the appropriate location. The dialogue puzzles usually require the player to learn something about a character or the game world by interrogating NPCs, or to occasionally convince (or trick) an NPC into doing or saying something that you want (by using knowledge that you've acquired from past time loops to manipulate them).

Having to run around, repeating the same conversations over again, and doing the same tasks over again would get very tedious very quickly, and would doubtlessly turn a lot of people off of the game. This isn't like Outer Wilds, where where you can just go straight to the end game and see the true ending; Forgotten City requires that you put in the legwork to make the best ending(s) possible.

There are multiple time-saving features, including a system of zip-lines between key locations.

I think I bought This Bed We Made on a PSN sale. Or maybe it was one of the free monthly titles? The trailer piqued my interest. It looked like it might be a fun little murder mystery.

Mystery video games are difficult to get right. It's a tough balancing act to give the player enough information to solve the mystery, but not so much that the game basically plays itself. Can the solution be easily brute-forced? Do option prompts give the solution away? Does the player ever get that sense of "eureka!" for figuring things out for yourself?

Generally, in my experience, the bigger the game, the more difficult it is to hit that fine balance. It seems like indie games make much better mystery games due to their smaller scope. This Bed We Made certainly keeps its scope fairly small, which helps to provide a reasonable possibility space for the player to work with, and allowing for player-driven deduction and some assertive leaps of logic.

The protagonist is a hotel maid with a penchant for snooping into guests' personal belongings.

The player plays a hotel maid tasked with cleaning up the rooms for patrons. But she has a penchant for snooping around in the customers' personal belongings. The game takes place entirely in the handful of rooms that she is assigned to clean, on a single floor of the hotel, as well as the lobby, and some of the employee-only spaces in the basement. The protagonist being a hotel maid also introduces the game's core gimmick: the game isn't necessarily about solving the mystery; it's more about how you handle the evidence and clues that you find.

Your job is to decide which pieces of evidence should be cleaned up, and which should be left behind. After all, your job is not to tamper with guest's belongings; it's simply to clean up their trash. Throwing away the wrong scrap of paper could, hypothetically, get you fired. But at the same time, not throwing away certain pieces of evidence could incriminate you or another innocent character.

Furthermore, your choices will also have impacts on the other hotel staff. Your actions may reveal co-workers as negligent or insubordinate, but that negligence or insubordinance may be justifiable or sympathetic, which leads to interesting moral and ethical dilemmas. Does a co-worker deserve to be held accountable for their actions and potentially fired? Or are their reasons for the inciting action justifiable or excusable, given the circumstances?

Your actions (or inactions) can lead to consequences for yourself and other characters.

As a publicly-acknowledged atheist who often has to defend my atheism against friends, colleagues, family, and the occasional real-life troll lurking around a natural history museum (seriously, that actually happened to me when I visited the Smithsonian in real life), I have a casual interest in theology, religious history, and apologetics. I listen to lectures on the historicity of Jesus, and debates about the origin of the universe or life, and so on. I'm thoroughly inoculated against the standard apologetics of the Kalam Cosmological Argument, watchmaker, absolute morality, and so forth. I appreciate when media is willing to engage with theological debate honestly and directly, instead of relying on the typical tropes of the incredulous skeptic (who is also often mopey, depressive, and cynical) that we see so often in TV and movies.

I don't remember exactly where I heard about Indika, but as soon as I did, I added it to my PSN wishlist and bought it when it went on sale. The elevator pitch of a game about a nun who thinks she's possessed by Satan seemed immediately interesting and entertaining. The fact that the game is actually very thoughtful and intelligent with its religious themes (rather than simply being a crass joke) only made it more appealing.

It's unclear to me if some voice-overs are the voices in Indika's head, or just an external narrator.
It often points out contradictions and hypocrisies of religious beliefs and activities, such as the futility of her labors.

Naughty nun and pious criminal

Indika is a thoroughly weird game. I would not be surprised if it ends up being the weirdest game that I play all year. It's a strange mix of walking sim, puzzle-platformer, and retro arcade. It's part Hellblade, part Edith Finch, maybe even part Sonic the Hedgehog, and very Russian.

Put simply, the protagonist, Indika, is a woman who was sent to a convent to become a nun, against her will, because of some perceived sin. She doesn't want to be there, but she's a genuinely nice and obedient person who fulfills her duties to the best of her abilities. Unfortunately for her, the "best of her abilities" isn't good enough. You see, she hears voices in her head, and sees visions of demons, that make her do and say things that are not quite appropriate, and which have earned her the severe disapproval of the other nuns.

One day, one of the nuns at the convent sends her out on an errand to deliver a letter to a monastery in a neighboring town. On the way, she encounters an escaped convict, named Ilya, who believes that God talks to him, and that he is kept alive by an explicit miracle from God. He has a gangrenous arm, but has survived with it for weeks without amputation, and without succumbing to sepsis. The 2 are an unlikely and ironic pair, a nun who thinks she is possessed by Satan, and a convict who thinks he is one of God's chosen people. They decide to accompany each other on a quest to a cathedral, where they hope a holy artifact can bless them both with a miracle -- to heal Ilya's arm, and to exorcise Indika's demonic possession.

Indika questions why God would make people broken, and give them free will, only to demand piety and obedience.

The concept is darkly humorous, and the game plays this humor up throughout. But it also uses the dichotomy of the 2 characters (and their specific predicaments) to explore the ideas of piety, morality, sin, free will, and the existence of a soul. And it does so earnestly and honestly, despite the wacky, whimsical nature of the circumstances and the actual game. The questions that the game poses could potentially have been pulled straight out of any apologetics book, or from an episode of The Atheist Experience.

Because Indika has a habit of making frequent small mistakes, which she often attributes to "sin", she is particularly interested in the idea of the moral equivalence of different sins. Specifically, can an accumulation of little sins add up to the equivalent of a larger, mortal sin like murder? And if so, how many such minor sins would one have to commit to damn themself to hell, the same as a murderer? Since Ilya sees himself as destined by God for a greater purpose, he is particularly interested in the ideas of pre-destination and free will. The 2 characters go back and forth about these topics (and others) several times throughout their journey together.