The Top Ten Best Video Games I played in 2025

Wow! It's been an incredible year, hasn't it? Nonstop bangers one after the other with barely a moment's rest in-between. Picking out the ten best wasn't easy. I can't imagine that many will agree with this list, and that's fine! There have been so many classics that any two people having even a couple of the same picks is nearly impossible. Ah well... Let's get to the games already!

10. Phalanx

I know that I could've gone with a "safe" pick like Gradius II, but there's just something about Phalanx that speaks to my soul. 

9. The Adventures of Batman & Robin (Genesis)

The 16-bit era was home to some really good Batman games. Really, the choice between this and the Super Nintendo TAoB&R could've been decided by a coin-flip. I'm not Two-Face though, I just know what I like. The Sega Genesis game has tons of action and a soundtrack that just won't quit. 

8. The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening DX

I'll admit that I'm one of those cranky games-writers that is just sick to death of hearing about Nintendo. Link's Awakening gets a pass though. There is nothing remotely overrated about this fantastic epic. It's as naturally enjoyable as a summer breeze.

7. ActRaiser 2

Here's a Super Nintendo action-platformer that never got its due respect. Quintet put out a lovely adventure with satisfyingly dense mechanics, and then Enix buried it under a ridiculous level of difficulty. Give the Super Famicom version a chance. You'll be glad you did. Promise.

6. Ys IV: The Dawn of Ys

If you want to play a 16-bit Ys game - and you absolutely should - then it must be this all-timer for the PC Engine CD. Adol's trek through Celceta is a constant series of solid dungeons and fantastic bosses. The wonderful presentation adds to the experience, etching a permanent place in the memories of any discerning gamer.

5. Castlevania Order of Ecclesia

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that not only would I put an Igavania on this list, but I'd also put the best one. Granted, almost every other game in the series is as addictive as a bag of Clancy's Pub Style pretzels, but Ecclesia strikes my weakpoints. All-timer for certain.

4. Legend of Oasis

With its top-tier movement and an inspired usage of verticality, this game keeps getting better every time I revisit it. One of the greatest to ever grace the Sega Saturn.

3. The Legend of Zelda: Oracle of Ages and Oracle of Seasons

I'm sorry, but how are these games real? Capcom drops two of the finest Zelda games ever, both different enough to stand on their own, yet unforgettable when taken together. I can't recommend these games enough.

2. Phantasy Star IV

An RPG so good that Sega knew they couldn't follow it up and didn't bother to try. Seriously though, this does everything right and takes maybe 15 hours to finish. You couldn't dream of a better-paced adventure. There isn't a single wasted moment anywhere to be found.

1. Beyond Oasis

There's no escaping what I consider to be one of the five greatest games on the Mega Drive. It's a masterpiece.

2026 Special - Record of Lodoss War: Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth

For the better part of a decade, Team Ladybug has been "suffering from success". Ever since I experienced Pharoah Rebirth+ for the first time, I knew they were something special. Then in 2019, they raised the bar to impossible heights with Touhou Luna Nights. It is, by the accounts of damn near anyone who ever picked up a controller, an immaculately crafted adventure. The only problem is that once you've reached the top of the mountain, where do you go next? For Team Ladybug, the answer wasn't "ascend to the heavens" or some nonsense like that. Their next game wouldn't seek to supplant Luna Nights or attempt to claim a spot next to the legends that define the Metroidvania genre. However, we live with a broken industry where every game has to be bigger and better than what came before. My expectations for Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth were out of control. An Early Access game channeling Symphony of the Night by a red-hot developer? I couldn't imagine anything less than a masterpiece. The final product turned out lovely, but... Well... I blame myself for believing that one or two people could deliver the universe.

For all intents and purposes, Team Ladybug is one person. We've seen amazing examples of what one person can accomplish in the gamedev space, but humanity has its limits. Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth is a great game. That's a point I want to get across directly and succinctly. Yet I can't escape the feeling that I have to treat it with harsher tones than... oh I don't know... some middling hack & slash from 1990. Whereas other games can stumble and fall only for me to pick them up and brush the dust off, when Deedlit falls, I have to bite my tongue to keep from saying "Good!". Ultimately, this is the most frustrating result of the bar being raised. Eventually, nobody can reach it. Its continued existence denies logic and buries art. Also, if you've ever wondered why I consider comparison reviews to be nothing more than dribbling shit, then wonder no more. I would rather belly flop into an empty pool than end every review with "Just play Deedlit in Wonder Labyrinth instead." and then end this review by saying "Just play Symphony of the Night instead." Though I often pretend otherwise, the purpose of my reviews is to instill a sense of humility. Every video game has significance, so let's get into discussing this one.

Besides the anime series and the Dreamcast Action RPG, my experience with Record of Lodoss War might as well be nonexistent. I know about Deedlit, but really, who doesn't? Her influence extends far and wide. An example right off the top of my head is the Elf from Capcom's AD&D games. Blonde hair, green skirt, adept at both sword & magic. Maybe the archetype has been around for much longer than that, but Deedlit is what gave it life. In accordance with the mythos, elves live for centuries, sometimes even millennia. Undoubtedly, those in the adventuring business tend to have the most stories, and Deedlit has a few of her own. In one such story, she is trapped in a labyrinth where friend and foe live eternally. Twisting and turning upon itself, this prison is a chaotic creature that assails its captive with their own memories. If you've got a few hours to spare, then maybe you could help her out.

In the interest of sanity, I'm going to try to avoid calling this game a Metroidvania. For one thing, it's a term that I'm personally not fond of, but have to use for the sake of convenience. I also can't really call it an Igavania either, though it features many of the same elements such as experience points and a large assortment of weapons. Oh! What if I referred to it as an Ikarugavania? I believe that there hasn't been one of those since Outland. There are so many choices here and... yeah, I'm definitely suffocating. Look, I'm just going to run with -undefined- from now on. The point of all these -vanias is not to pigeonhole Wonder Labyrinth, but to give it a sense of familiarity. This game prides itself on being purposefully lean. It juggles several concepts simultaneously because it knows players will understand at least one of them, making it that much easier to adapt to the rest. For the few out there going in completely blind, the bulk of the first level is spent introducing all of the mechanics that will become second nature. 

What immediately stuck out to me when playing a Team Ladybug game for the first time was how effortless it felt. Here I was, an anthropomorphic bunny using my ears to bash everything in sight, and it was as natural as instinct. It's like my parents were Peter and Vanilla Rabbit. Controlling Deedlit is just as divine. Her animations are fluid yet otherworldly, no doubt reminiscent of Alucard. Air-movement has a unique weightlessness to it. By relying on Sylph's traversal powers, she can float across spikes, control height to weave around danger, and mount aerial assaults from an uncommon number of angles. There is a depth to movement that is unfortunately limited by the confining level-designs and large monsters. Yeah, I'd say there is some potential here that was left untapped, but otherwise the game controls like a dream.

In a nod to one of its many influences, Wonder Labyrinth plays home to a decent selection of weapons. Most of them function similarly to a sword, differentiated by their speed, attack power, and type of swing. Naturally, heavier weapons are slower, but are usually swung overhead, eliminating threats both ahead and above. Newer, stronger blades are rotated in at constant-pace. What might've helped you defeat a boss ten minutes ago is now obsolete. On the plus side, if there's a style of weapon you favor, there's likely to be a version of it that's sufficient for clearing the game with. I killed the last boss using a chakram. Some monsters can drop weapons. Just don't expect anything amazing like a Valmanway or Crissageim. Their purpose is to add texture to the world and give completionists something to collect. Don't worry, Deedlit is still broken AF. She just has her own methods.

In battle, or at least as dictated by this game, it's best to attack from a distance. Think of it like controlling space, keeping just out of the enemy's reach while wearing them down. If you're at all concerned about a fiend's capabilities, then start by pelting them with arrows. The bow is integral to every facet of problem-solving. Besides the myriad puzzles that require trick shots, a well-placed arrow can help identify weaknesses. Just don't expect to rely on it too much. The bow draws from the same magic pool as spells, and spells are far more effective. Oh, and do check out the shooting gallery. It's actually a lot of fun and fantastic showcase of just how much work went into designing the bow.

On a whim, I tried using the Will o The Wisp spell during a duel with Pirotess. The duel ended moments later. This is the spell system working as intended. What turns Deedlit from just another elf with a sword to a demigod is her absurdly powerful magic. Everything she contends with - no matter the size of their HP bar or the number of moves in their repertoire - can handle getting shredded by spells. MP is also easy to replenish, especially if you take full advantage of the heroine's ability to drain fire or water attacks. In what has to be a nod the deep end of Capcom AD&D's combat, Deedlit is essentially a master of the "quick kill". You see it all the time in speedruns. Sword strikes and spells in quick succession eliminating the opposition in seconds. 

There is an awkwardness to first-time encounters with bosses, particularly those who are no larger than the average human (or elf). Their basic sword swings tend to land pretty often, because it's tough to react to a move with hardly any windup. Getting hurt often takes a big chunk of life and knocks Deedlit down. She can even get stunned if too many hits accumulate or the attack is electrical in nature. To keep the awkwardness from turning into outright frustration, there's the Spirit Level system. Basically, as long as you can keep either of your spirits at level 3, the heroine's HP will gradually refill. This creates incentives to back off and regroup, avoid fumbling for a potion, all without losing focus on the battle at hand. It's good, so good that it might give players the impression that this game is too easy. I think it's easy, but only because I took full advantage of every mechanic available. 

Towards the end of her labyrinthian adventure, Deedlit must refight every boss in a sequence. At one time or another, I think I made it clear that I'm no fan of a boss rush. Way too many developers don't do enough to emphasize the rush, and it comes off as if I'm just playing through the game again, but with the stages stripped out. Here, the boss rush moves at a fantastic pace. Deedlit retains her current strength, but none of the bosses received a buff of any kind. This is where the quick kills start to take shape, as she flattens everything, including the fiends she battled just minutes before, in a fraction of the time it might've taken her to defeat one boss. Granted, the boosted attack-power from being a high level helps, but the rate in which she cuts through all opposition is awe-inspiring. I really admire the direction Team Ladybug took here. Giving every archfiend a massive array of abilities, while allowing players the means to eliminate them with Alien Soldier speed & efficiency? It's brilliant! Just brilliant. 

Like I said before, Deedlit's quest is purposefully lean. The lack of extraneous content can be viewed positively or negatively. It's all up to the player's preference. Speaking solely for myself, the first playthrough left me a little disappointed. I was expecting more, probably far more than the developer had any intention of providing. Their vision was laser-focused on giving players three solid hours of action & adventure. The replay-value is in starting a new game, perhaps with the "no-leveling" or "1 hit kills" modifiers enabled if the player is just that good. It wasn't until several years and a second playthrough that I realized their accomplish was far more impressive than I gave it credit for.

Now, it's not all superb. Encounters with regular enemies get a little messy, particularly in the few instances where those with immunities to water or fire appear in the same area. Try to ignore them for a second and they'll start crowding the screen in overlapping attacks. There's no value in attempting runs centered around limitations. Maybe you could do a "no-spell" challenge, but it'd involve trying to avoid attacks that just weren't meant to be dealt with at close-range. This, coupled with the largely similar weapons, practically eliminates any build possibility. Level-design is also largely basic and linear, which honestly doesn't bother me. I definitely could've gone without screen-shake though. 

Upon a revisit to the Wonder Labyrinth, I believe I see now what makes Deedlit's adventure shine. Its commitment to uniting multiple disparate ideas and molding them into a single game that still feels as authentic as breathing is truly exemplary. As with every other Team Ladybug game, the production values are ridiculous. It's like they operate on another level. Treat yourself to a second playthrough sometime. 

2026 Special - Tina's Adventure Island IV

Oh no!! Higgins & Tina's dinosaur friends have been gobbled up by a mysterious fiend! Strap on a bikini, grab the nearest weapon, and prepare to conquer the isles of adventure. Today's review is centered on Hudson Soft's last game for the venerable Famicom. Its late release (1994!) meant that it'd never make its way to the west. What a shame. It also turned out to be Hudson's worst-selling game on the platform. What a double shame. Nevertheless, Adventure Island IV would eventually receive a fan-translation, and we're all glad it did. This is a nice little companion piece to Super Adventure Island II, which also added exploration and problem-solving to the hop & throw platforming that has defined the series.

I'm starting this look off with a wild assumption. In both story and mechanics, Adventure Island IV is actually a prequel that takes place before the 1986 classic. While Higgins (or Tina in this case) is fully capable of walking and jumping, he has not yet learned the art of dashing. Holding down the attack button doesn't do anything. To add to this, his weapon of choice isn't the hammer (or tomahawk), it's a mere bone. In fact, neither hero nor heroine obtain their trademark weapon until the last ten minutes of the game. Furthering my suspicions is the last boss, who is none other than the mighty Eggplant King. Destroying this dino-napping brute kicked off an eternal fued between the Higgins' and the Eggplants. The main characters also look noticeably younger than in previous instalments, but that could just be Now Production playing around with the art-direction.

In accordance with the action-adventure format, this entry is comprised of six themed dungeons. If you've participated in Higgins' previous (future?) escapades, then you'll quickly recognize sights such as the ice caverns, a quicksand-filled desert, fire caverns, and so on. Once you've established the next direction that you're supposed to be heading, then it's just a matter of avoiding baddies, making a couple of minor detours for health-replenishing meat or heart-containers, and then battling the boss. Unlike what its genre suggests, this game isn't particularly non-linear. You're welcome to return to previous areas in case you missed anything, but the boss of the current area must be destroyed before you can proceed to the next. There is somewhat of an "overworld" that glues these disparate locations together, but that's all it really does. This isn't like The Legend of Zelda where tools you find in the dungeons can uncover secrets elsewhere. 

In an attempt to +1 my vocabulary, I'm going to mention a word that's been rattling around my otherwise empty head for a hot minute: perfunctory. Adventure Island IV does feature a lot of items, and they all have a purpose. The problem with that is a singular purpose doesn't leave space for experimentation or fun. In preparation for the fire cavern, Higgins (or Tina!) receives a water gun. This tool puts out fires, grows springy fungus, and that's it. The water gun can't be used in the ice cavern to create frozen blocks. You will however obtain a spear. It can latch onto moving platforms from underneath. You'll use it once. Other items like the snowboard, surfboard, and skateboard exist almost solely because of some Hudson Soft mandate. There is a crystal-smashing mallet that smashes the one crystal in the entire island. 

Maybe the dev team thought that keys were too boring, and I should stop being such a fun-hating fuddy duddy. To that I say... fair enough. Giving players a tool to fool around is more interesting, even if that interest fades minutes after the dungeon is completed. There's also the rare occasion that a tool has value outside of opening a door. My favorite weapon - the boomerang - has returned. It retains its double attack power and unique learning curve. Too bad it isn't obtained sooner. Having to rely on bones for most of the game is pretty annoying.

One of the features that could've alleviated my criticisms about the bone is if I had a dinosaur to ride. Over the course of my playthrough, I kept wondering when the damn game would let me hop on their backs and employ their powers to slay baddies or find secrets. Before I knew it, I was at the entrance to the final dungeon. All of the rescued dinosaurs are found at a nearby village... a village I had somehow never noticed or thought to look up information on. Yeah, so I just went dino-less for the entire adventure. "Oops!" doesn't even begin to describe it. Like, you ever read those stories about the person who didn't know Resident Evil 4 had a run button or whatever? That's how I feel. In fairness, even if I had managed to find the "enigmatic" creatures, I probably would've shelved them the instant I realized they disappear back to their village the second Higgins gets hurt while atop one. Rushing back to obtain a replacement probably would've been too much trouble, even with the convenient ability to set warp points in various locations throughout the island.

** It's bad enough that I've failed to engage with all of a video game's mechanics, but it really speaks to my unprofessional character that I would attempt to undermine them further with a typical sour grapes attitude. I might as well review Espgaluda and say that I don't see point in kakusei. Although do I really want to put out the idea that some temporary dinosaurs are as essential as the central survival & scoring mechanic in a STG? That's an outright insane can of worms to op- **

Sorry, it seems my internal monologue sprung a leak. Just ignore that, thanks.

In terms of difficulty, Adventure Island IV is about as relaxing as the series is going to get. A big part of it is the health meter. If need be, you can pick up a health-restoring potion and a revival fairy. You might not need either though, since aside from a couple of bosses, you're unlikely to be in a ton of danger. Instead of serving as a time limit, the food gauge simply replenishes a heart every time you obtain eight fruits. This is a nice feature in that keeps players moving at a relatively brisk pace. Its secondary function becomes apparent when you tackle the minigames. Most of these are simply a means to obtain additional items, but the few required to progress are actually much harder if you attempt to take them on with 1 or 2 fruits instead of 6 or 7. 

Going further, the level of dexterity needed to navigate the various platforming challenges and enemy encounters throughout the land just isn't as high as before. You won't be making a series of death-defying jumps while maniacal creatures attack from every angle. A leaping frog or devilishly placed campfire isn't going to spike your anxiety. Death is still a possibility, but the aforementioned warp point system mitigates almost all lost progress. If you really wanted, you could skip the heart containers and reduce checkpoint usage, but I don't know if that's a good idea. From what I can tell, the hitboxes are actually worse than in Adventure Island II. Projectiles are much more likely to connect, even if it looks like they shouldn't.

While I did enjoy my playthrough of Adventure Island IV, it does lack some of the precision and spark that makes the other games so exciting to run through. Each of the six dungeons is structured well. Some even get a little creative like with the Pyramid and its many false walls. However, the moment-to-moment hop & throw action just isn't as compelling. I also can't ignore the unrealized ambition permeating throughout Higgins' (and Tina's) quest. The tools serving a perfunctory role might have meant more to me earlier this year when I was drowning in Zelda-likes and every visit to an inventory screen felt like an aluminum bat to the abdomen. Now, I'm left wishing the game did more with what it had.

Still, I suppose what really matters is that I didn't think about most of these issues while I was actively playing. Then again, was I thinking about anything? Obviously not a single thought of where the rescued dinosaurs might be hanging out ever crossed my mind.

2026 Special - Valis III (Turbografx CD)

It's 5:49 am. I just had a dream where my entire family called me a lazy good-for-nothing. Holding a full-time job that takes everything out of me and paying a mortgage that eats away whatever remains doesn't count for much, I guess. Half-asleep, yet unable to subconsciously escape the judgement of others, the decision is made to work on a review. This is in essence, the most conducive environment for my work. It frustrates me beyond words how people can think so little of video game critics. We're always biased or "don't get it" or worse, targets of some obsessive decades-spanning campaign, all because we gave a score that differed from the norm or played a game poorly once. Not once have these dopes ever used the pebble-sized brain rattling around in their concrete-thick skull to actually understand where a critic is coming from. I don't write reviews solely to piss off weirdos. I live in a world of shit, a hole that I filled with my own hells, same as everyone else. Writing about one of the two things that keeps me duct-taped together - the other being chicken-club sandwiches - is how I communicate with others. The fact that I can consistently drag myself away from the brink yet never use it as an excuse to bury some poor piece of crap game is a goddamned miracle. 

Not that I'm implying Valis III is a piece of crap. It's really not that bad, but I hold the sincere belief that it can't escape the crushing weight of its own ambition. Laser Soft's cross between Leda: The Fantastic Adventures of Yohko and Dracula's Curse needed a second set of hands to carve out what doesn't quite work and polish everything else. The existence of the very compelling and fun Genesis port is proof of that. Telenet took a game with wonky hitboxes, less-than-solid controls, an almost absurdly unbalanced level of difficulty, and created one of the classics of the Mega Drive era. I don't want to sell the original short, but when my chances of defeating the final boss are determined entirely by the subweapon I'm carrying, well... clearly you can see that my hands are tied. It was less than a week ago that I shared my begrudging yet immense respect for the final boss of the Genesis port. This was a tough fight where every single one of my victories was by the slimmest of margins. By contrast, the Turbografx CD's take on the finale is essentially impossible if Yuko isn't carrying a fire rod. 

Shit. Half the games I reviewed in 2025 had a fire rod. I can't escape these fucking things.

Now to this version's credit, a lot of emphasis was put on elemental-themed magic, giving the platforming action a tinge of puzzle-solving. This is most evident in the fourth stage, where Valna uses her ice magic to freeze enemies and create platforms out of them. It's a clever idea. The seventh stage has Yuko throwing homing fireballs to take out antlions. It's a not as clever idea, but it works. Well, at least I think it's supposed to work that way. If there was an alternative, I didn't want to risk it due to the sloppy controls and hit detection. Also, the knockback is almost inexplicable. If there's a pit in the vicinity, you can be certain that contact with the nearest enemy will send Yuko & her allies tumbling towards it. I think this was one of those times where the game leaned too heavily on the Castlevania influence. Any contact with spikes taking 1/3rd to 1/2 of the heroine's life is extreme too. 

If the final boss spoiler didn't already give it away, bosses tend to be extremely unbalanced. This is almost entirely attributed to the strange decision to force players to restart the fight if they lose. Wait! That's supposed to be convenient! Instead, it's a trap designed to erase any spare lives, requiring a restart of the entire stage. Whenever the protag suffers a death, they lose their spell rod, and the strength of their weapon is kicked back to level one. Weapon strength determines - among other things - how far Yuko's projectiles travel when she swings her sword. In the Genesis version, button-mashing was ineffective. Here? It's a death sentence. The distance of Yuko's attack is pitiful at level one, yet she's almost required to swing wildly to have a chance at the boss. Ultimately though, it's wasted effort. If you're going to borrow from Castlevania, why not borrow the checkpoints that are placed shortly before bosses? Allow players the opportunity to get a few power-ups so they're not fighting Dracula or Ramses with a piece of string or a stick.

Oops! There I go again getting frustrated with game developers that haven't existed for decades. I should be showing more respect for what they accomplished, even if it is for the elements of a video game that don't always interest me. I mean, the presentation is as stellar as ever. The design of Yuko's armor is rather silly, but also pretty awesome. It probably helps that a couple key pieces of art treat it with the gravitas it deserves. After all, this is Yuko's final adventure. 

Unfortunately, I have nothing else to add to this review. If it wasn't already apparent from the second sentence, I just wanted a moment to vent. If you got to this point, then thanks for sticking around. I appreciate it.

As for Valis III on the Turbografx CD, there's only one thing left to say.

Oh my god.

2026 Special - Valis II (Turbografx-CD)

While it's difficult to view the warmonger Megas as a tragic victim, he was betrayed by his father and then exiled to another dimension. If that wasn't enough, his own brother nearly killed him. The only reason he's still alive is because of a hundred cybernetic implants. I'd actually have cut the dude a little slack if he kept his revenge strictly personal. Of course, that wasn't possible either. As it turns out, while Megas was out of commission, his brother Rogles was killed by Yuko Asou. Feeling more than a little discontent with the events that transpired in his absence, Megas declares war on Rogles' followers, bringing the world of Vecanti to the brink of annihilation. It falls upon the fantasm soldier to dust off her bikini armor and restore order. 

In a way, Valis II is the entry that defined the series. Its voice-acted cutscenes and OVA-quality music really bring the presentation to another level. Sure, the voicework mostly consists of Yuko's actress doing her best with the material while every villain sounds like a SpongeBob character, but it's all part of that Turbografx-CD charm. The Act 1 theme is also an all-time banger. Sadly, I'm that critic who invested an overabundance of years into crowing about the merits of game-design. The reason this blog materialized was out of love for the arcades. Over a decade and a half later, I'm long past the point where the abyss stared back. Now it's 5:03 am on a Saturday morning and I'm trying to assemble a combination of words to explain why I'm not satisfied with this game.

You might've read my review of Valis for the Genesis and vaguely recall my laments about its lack of "sauce" or "grits" or whatever pretend-lingo I use to appeal to a crowd that couldn't give a shit about ancient history. Valis II can't even be categorized as sauce. It's more like tepid pasta water, which to its credit implies a hint of flavor. Problem is that the presence of anything else can and will overpower the flavor, creating a concoction that is nearly impossible to enjoy. What I'm trying to say here is that beyond being too easy, this game's attempt at difficulty shows the roots of the series' origins on the PC in a way that's just unpleasant. Of course, the chance that you'd experience it for yourself relies on a string of bad luck that could only happen on a slot machine. Confused yet? Because I certainly am.

Let's back the truck up all the way to Act 1. This is the customary intro stage where Yuko gets reacquainted with her abilities as the fantasm soldier. In other words, she runs from left to right then right to left blasting everything with a bullet-spitting sword. "Everything" is as you'd expect the typical potpourri of creatures assailing their target from both sides of the screen. Some walk, some run, some fly, but they'll almost always die before they reach Yuko. For a mild chuckle, try holding forward and mashing the attack button. It looks ridiculous, but it crushes a lot of adversity the instant they appear. Eventually the screen will halt so that a mid-boss can saunter up and take several bullets before dying. He'll drop the first of several sub-weapons. Sub-weapons have some neat effects, but they're used by pressing up on the d-pad. Not up + attack mind you, just up. Eventually you get used to accidentally spending sub-weapons on inopportune moments.

Shortly after the first mid-boss, Valis II introduces the homing missiles. This replaces the basic projectile Yuko has been firing. Either pick it up or get ready to duck and fire at the four-legged critters that are about to attack. Besides a few instances of monsters spilling out of an offscreen clown car, this game never throws what could be considered a threatening number of enemies at the protagonist. Outside of bosses, the biggest damage dealers are the things that don't explode after a couple of bullets, but that won't be relevant until at least Act 5. From now until a good while later, everything is at Yuko's mercy. So many action-platformers depend on its player receiving the punishment, but it's practically the reverse here. One other thing; do pick up the wave-shot and carry it through the entire adventure. It does respectable damage and erases common projectiles.

In order to keep things fair (for the game) there are a couple of features that ornery reviewers like me love to prey upon. One is that Yuko doesn't get very many invulnerability frames after taking a hit. If you haven't already destroyed whatever bumped into you, then get out of the way quickly, because they're sure to inflict even more damage. The other feature is that both Yuko's attack and defense drop back to level 1 after she dies. Raising these stats is a matter of finding uncommon power-ups, so where you lose a life could place you in a significantly annoying position. It's not insurmountable, not by longshot. It only gets ugly if you exhaust every life and have to continue. Continuing resets Yuko's health to the default, which could potentially be half of what it's capable of reaching. I know I'm saying a lot of things that likely won't be relevant for several acts if not the entire game, but this is what I mean about the series PC origins. All of the difficulty comes from a lack of balance. Adopt a "1CC or don't bother" mindset and grab every health upgrade. Yuko is all but guaranteed to die two or three times, and that extra health is essential to recovery.

Since a lot of what I'm talking about is irrelevant for most of Valis II, let's skip ahead a few acts. Don't worry, because there's not much to miss. Acts 2 & 3 feature some platforming and enemies that do a little more than move and die, but nothing that warrants concern. Act 4 however is worth paying attention to, because it's setting up a series of circumstances that could culminate in the loss of at least one life. This is a long act filled with monsters spawning from multiple directions. They're easily eliminated, but it's still important to move at a methodical pace. Instead of easily destructible monsters, Act 5 features a deluge of indestructible traps. This is where damage can really pile up, resulting in death. Naturally, death leads to Yuko losing her powered-up stats, making the early bits of Act 6 more of a trial than they deserve to be. 

If you're wondering about the possibility of losing every life, then it's because you haven't played this game before. Yuko receives a 1up after obtaining 20,000 points, the next after 50,000. I think every 50k points thereafter adds another life to the stock. More can be found just lying around in each of the first five Acts. In short, the couple lives Yuko could lose are almost instantly replaced. To reiterate, you'd need a string of bad luck on par with sitting at a slot machine to reach a Game Over screen. This game's level of difficulty is set to "statistical improbability" by default, and you'd have to ignore every power-up to create a challenge. Obviously, it'd be an unfun challenge, but that's just my opinion. 

Oh! I'm at the point in the review where I have to discuss the bosses. I'm sorry, but these goons are just plain sad. Provided Yuko has her level 3 sword and a modicum of health, she can give minimal effort and still crush her adversary. What should've been her strongest opponents are almost entirely undone by semi-safe spots. For the Act 5 boss, it's the center of the screen (I'm serious! Try it). For Megas himself, it's the far left of the screen. I didn't want to bring up Syd of Valis, but at least that game required a little strategizing to conquer its bosses. This? This is just embarrassing. Oh! Also, dying at a boss likely won't matter because Yuko just respawns mid-fight. This is something that I actually had to test for myself because otherwise I killed everyone in the first attempt.

There is a part of me that should be a little kinder towards Valis II. It has the most interesting antagonist in the series. Yuko also kicks some serious ass. I wish future games leaned more into the "battle-hardened heroine in a dark fantasy world" stuff. However, being the kind of reviewer that I am, I just can't see the merit in an adventure lacking both excitement and consequence. I love tons of easy games, but almost all of them have consequences, even if the worst of them is just wasted time. I want to feel like what I do matters, that my skills and experiences have contributed to whatever success I attain. Instead... pardon me, but I just got smacked in the face with a meta-existential crisis.

Oh my god.

2026 Special - Ghost Sweeper Mikami

If there is one thing you can count on in this miserable hellscape, it's Natsume. Their level of consistency is honestly absurd, like they made some deal with a demonic being to attain ultra gamedev powers. Today, I'd like to draw your attention towards one of the many licensed products that turned out quite nicely because of them. Back in September 1993, less than six months after the debut of the anime, Bandai's Ghost Sweeper Mikami: Joreishi wa Nice Body hit the shelves. The story involves an exorcist named Reiko Mikami. She runs an agency that solves various occult-related matters throughout Japan. One day, Reiko wins a strange statue from a raffle. There's a rumor going around that once the seven mystical gems are placed on the statue, it'll grant any wish its owner desires. Predictably, these gems are in the hands of restless spirits, and they won't give them up without a fight. Or maybe I should just say that you get to be a smokin' hot redhead in a miniskirt who slices up ghosts with a lightsaber. Choose whichever synopsis works for you. 

Point is, what we have here is an action-platformer for the Super Famicom with the usual menagerie of hazards, power-ups, and end-bosses. Most importantly though, it's a Natsume game, so you're guaranteed a pretty fun time. Starting with the controls, there's almost nothing to discuss. I guess the word I'm looking for is automatic. Picture a machine that places caps on bottles, hundreds of thousands of them every hour without a single mishap. It's almost frustratingly perfect for a sicko critic like yours truly. The dev-team could've given Reiko a jump that doesn't allow any midair control, or an attack that has too many recovery frames, anything that'd make me feel superior to a 32-year-old video game. Sadly, it's just not happening. The instant control is handed to you is the instant you become a full-fledged exorcist who has mastered the ancient arts of both jumping and attacking.

The first episode introduces newcomers to everything that makes Reiko tick. On the surface, this game seems pretty simple, but once you start digging, you'll discover... not a whole lot really. Now there are a few pointers worth keeping in mind. Reiko's blade can be swung horizontally or vertically. The vertical slash has slightly less reach but covers a wider arc and ties into the game's other mechanic. Floating platforms are placed throughout most of the stages. Vertically slashing them causes Reiko to grab hold of them. She can then swing herself on top of the platform with a bodacious flash kick. I appreciate the added flexibility this mechanic brings to the level-design. Instead of clambering up unnatural staircases, our extraordinary exorcist reaches higher ground with style. Oh, and before I forget, hitting projectiles with the saber will send them back the way they came. Take advantage of it when you can.

Each subsequent episode features what may as well be the action-platformer's "greatest hits". Ghost Sweeper Mikami gets the obligatory water stage out of the way early in episode 2. Rush dauntlessly through the hostile currents while smacking haunted fish across the gills. Next up is the auto-scroller, where a handheld-sized Reiko rides a kitty across the roof-tops, swatting away everything that gets in her face. No joke, this might be one of the most tolerable auto-scrollers I've ever come across. The cat moves with Reiko, ensuring that she'll never inadvertently jump to her demise. I might even go as far to say that this is an example of a good vehicle-section. Sheesh! That's almost as unbelievable as a good billionaire! Next is the forest, which features plenty of branch-hopping shenanigans. A praiseworthy aspect of this game is that every episode has its own array of ghouls and obstacles to deal with. At no point does the adventure ever get repetitive. 

Episode 5 has Natsume flying dangerously close to the sun, perhaps literally. Reiko grabs a broom and takes to the skies. What is this? Cotton 100%? Nah, it's more like Cotton 10%. While this episode resembles a shmup stage, the exorcist sticks with blade swinging instead of spell flinging. More noticeably, the broom she's riding has a lot of inertia. I mean, it's not even close to "the game is ruined!" bad, but I have to question the decision-making process here. Best advice I can offer is to play defensively and don't try to slash everything onscreen. It's not like there's a hi-score to challenge or anything of that sort. The following episode is much more restrained, with a battle through a construction-site and plenty of conveyor-belt action. After that, the restraints snap into little pieces as Reiko enters a truly bizarre world. Here, the gravity switches between normal and almost nonexistent. Ms. Mikami can also summon platforms to assist her traversal. It's a surprising take on what is basically the last stage, and also kind-of neat. Just... be extra careful around the bottomless pits. 

Besides a latter half that gets a little bit crazy, Natsume designed Joreishi wa Nice Body to appeal to a wide audience. In other words: this is not a hard game. A typical playthrough runs south of an hour, with unlimited continues and passwords ensuring very little progress is lost. I'll say that the biggest challenges tend to be the 3rd, 5th, and 7th bosses. Reaching them with a less-than-full health meter could lead to problems. The 7th boss in particular seems to have a knack for cornering and bullying the heroine, so be wary of that. There are a couple of other power-ups like saber upgrades and talismans, but don't attempt to build strategies around them. Having an upgraded saber capable of flinging projectiles is nice, but it's lost as soon as Reiko takes damage. Talismans and their screen-clearing effects should be saved for the auto-scrollers. 

So, yeah, this is a good game. It would've been considered a perfect rental if it had ever reached the West. I wish the adventure was a bit lengthier and had taken more risks, but what's here is enough for an amusing time. Honestly, Natsume has a track record that should've put them shoulder-to-shoulder with the likes of Capcom and Konami. Even with what could've been a throwaway anime tie-in, they made sure it'd play as well as any of the big action games of the era. Ghost Sweeper Mikami: Joreishi wa Nice Body is one heck of an effort that more people should check out.

2026 Special - Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore

If you've ever been intrigued by Zelda: Wand of Gamelon or Link: Faces of Evil, but don't want to commit to playing what's generally considered to be a pair of excruciating experiences, then there are a couple of alternatives. Remastered editions were put out back in 2020. I've heard they aren't perfect, and might've introduced issues that weren't in the originals, but are still several times more playable. Naturally, the other option is the subject of today's look. Released in 2024, Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore is a love letter to the CDI duology, using many of its same mechanics and features to craft a fun little adventure. I must point out however that there is an insidious edge to it. The deeper you dive through its many layers, the closer you get towards an unflinchingly accurate portrayal of the infamous games that kicked this whole saga off. Eventually, thoughts of "That was great, but I need MORE!" will start creeping in. Swear on my everything, if I ever make it to the third or fourth playthrough of Arzette, not even a week later I'd be challenging both Gamelon and Evil in their original un-remastered forms.

After running through a tutorial that covers all of the basics, you're thrown into a world of mystery and danger. The goal is simple: Stop Daimur once and for all. Achieving that goal is - in traditional adventure game fashion - anything but straightforward. After some time spent in the nearest forest hopping across branches and slashing goons galore, Arzette will light the first beacon. Lit beacons unlock new locations to explore, and that's great. However, you the player will have something else occupying your thoughts: that candle placed just out of the heroine's reach. Candles are the "keys" needed to reach the guardians of the shattered jewel needed to stop Daimur, and they're often hidden or require some sort of ability to obtain. 

Cleverly, this game uses the starting area to feed its players all of the information needed to progress. In the same forest is a wolfman, who'd like to own a home in the nearby town. Pay its mayor a visit and convince him to hand over a deed. Chat up the locals while you're there and you'll get clued in on some favors they need. Rub their backs, and they'll rub your back in return, simple as. Upon returning to the world map, you're bound to notice the exclamation point resting above the forest. It's an indicator that flat out states "Hey problem solver! There's a problem you can solve here!" Besides the UI providing a gentle nudge, this is exactly how the CDI games functioned. One of the biggest issues with them was that several locations were accessible from the start, which was simply overwhelming for new players.

After all this traipsing about the forest, I'm going to guess that combat has already become second-nature to you. Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore plays most of its cards early by introducing almost every type of monster in the starting areas. This will no doubt be a source of disappointment for those expecting surprises in the future, and to an extent I agree. The lack of enemy variety is punctuated by their almost one-dimensional behavior. They move from left to right or right to left and will sometimes take a swing at any princess who gets in their face. Everything else either sits still and tosses projectiles or attempts an aerial assault. Baddies eventually get the bright idea to throw projectiles and move (but never at the same time). By that point though, you've acquired a shield that's immensely easy to use, rendering their efforts pretty ineffective.

Several enemies from the mid-point onwards will be protected by an evil aura. In a subtle nod to Link: Faces of Evil, you'll need a magical weapon capable of firing red (and eventually blue) projectiles to break through that aura. Actually, that isn't 100% accurate. In the CDi game, Link had to hoard snowballs and fireballs to use against specific foes. This system achieves a similar effect while tossing aside the mind-melting inanity. Believe me when I say that I don't want this review to boil down to "What if somebody removed all of the sucky parts from those Legend of CDi games." but it's like trying to dodge a freight train that's spitting DaiOuJou amounts of bullets. 

With that in mind, I have to point out that while Arzette: The Jewel of Faramore knows where its bread is buttered, there is a heart to it, elevating the game to be more than a mere in-joke. Its characters, even when they're being a collection of a quirks, are endearing. Everything is treated with an understated reverence. Rather than make fun of the duology that inspired it, this game chooses a path of respect and love. It pays tribute while avoiding the petty insults. In the end, a video game ending up good is a miracle in itself. Grand ideas and sound concepts are crushed by the realities of development. If whatever remains is actually enjoyable and gets across its themes, then that is something worth celebrating. Arzette gets that down to the letter with this charming tribute.

For some players, defeating Daimur is just the beginning, as there are a handful of unlockable difficulties to conquer. Hero mode does what it says on the tin. Enemies have more health and hit harder. Their numbers have also increased. Death is a more common occurrence, especially early on, but nothing to fret over. Classic mode is where things get extra spicy. Rather than getting unlimited chances to get through an area, Arzette now has a limited stock of continues. Presumably, she gets kicked back to the world map once they're exhausted. I say presumably, because this is the point where I had to take a step back. I'm already drowning in games as it is. Anyway, Classic mode also makes it so that you can't access the menu unless the heroine is ducking. That's cute.

You can also choose to liven up future playthroughs further with mods. The two most notable are a randomizer, which functions exactly as you'd imagine. It rearranges all items and NPCs to create a newish adventure. The other is called Farcette. It's a "Youtube poop" mod. No, I am not explaining what a Youtube poop is, especially in a review of a game that pays tribute to the CDI classics that basically invented the term. Point is, if you want your second playthrough to have more absurd cutscenes, then this mod is well worth it. It's pretty damn hilarious at times.

Action-adventure fans should definitely give this lovely throwback a go. Its seamless controls and easy-to-grasp mechanics make for a very relaxing quest. The soundtrack gets *damn good*, and the visuals are never without charm. Oh, and of course all the cutscenes (both original and modded) are a treat to watch. Fair warning though, the urge to try the CDI originals will no doubt take hold once you've completed this quest. Who knows? Maybe they're actually not that bad...