10 video games I played in 2025
Other games I played in 2025: Hades II, The Alters, Monster Hunter Wilds, Absolum, Ball x Pit, Mario Kart World, Shinobi: Art of Vengeance.
Games I wanted to play in 2025 but did not have time: Final Fantasy Tactics The Ivalice Chronicles, Unbeatable, Skate Story, Silent Hill F, Stories from Sol: The Gun-Dog, Raidou Remastered, Cyber Knights Flashpoint, Elden Ring Nightreign, Donkey Kong Bananza.
10. Clair Obscur: Expedition 33
Despite broadly liking this game when I played it, my feelings on Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 have grown colder with time. For better or worse, this game was made in a lab to appeal to the particular generation of gamer who grew up with X-Play or read a lot of games journalism in the 2010s. You know who I'm talking about. The people who unironically parroted talking points like "when will Japanese games catch up to the West" or "boss fights are obsolete." I actually pity the folks at Sandfall, it seems they're genuine fans of the genre and simply wanted to make their love letter to it. Tragically they've attracted a fanbase seemingly allergic to Xenoblade or Lost Odyssey.
If you can get past the fact that many Expedition 33 fans are almost universally unpleasant to talk to, the game itself is an appealing mashup of classic style JRPG overworld adventure and demanding time-sensitive combat. As a parrying sicko, I derived a great deal of joy mastering some of the game's most challenging ordeals.
As for the artifice itself, it has its moments but the ending is a mess. Looking back on it now, I'm even harsher on it than I was at the time. There's some really interesting stuff in here but I think I never really managed to love the characters enough to be sold on the emotions they were attempting to elicit. Maybe calling it manipulative would be too far but that's how I genuinely feel about nearly all of Expedition 33's narrative swings.
Favorite party member (mechanical): Maelle
Least favorite party member (narrative): Maelle
9. Uma Musume: Pretty Derby
I'm sorry, I have to put this somewhere on the list. For better or worse, Uma Musume: Pretty Derby kickstarted an obsession. Since picking up the game, I've watched all three seasons of the mainline TV anime, the BNW ova, Road to the Top, Beginning of a New Era, and Cinderella Gray. I don't normally do that. It takes a particular kind of energy to make me suddenly decide to make a new thing my temporary personality. And somehow, Uma Musume pulled it off. Maybe it's that these horse girls are weirdly charming. Maybe it's the ways in which the stories of the real life horses inspire the narrative twists and turns of a given character. I can't really say in good conscious it's a good video game, but it's extracted an undeniable degree of emotional buy-in. It is primordially satisfying watching the horse girls you've trained win, overcome the odds, and occasionally become legends. I'll never forget the Gemini Cup miracle.
Favorite currently available Uma: Fuji Kiseki
Most cursed Uma to train: Haru Urara
8. Promise Mascot Agency
Deeply charming game that knows when to gracefully bow out just as it starts to overstay its welcome. There's an off-kilter lo fi Grasshopper Manufacture vibe to Promise Mascot Agency that I enjoy a lot, even if the somewhat threadbare nature of the actual management and town improvement started to wear thin. Starting off as a disgraced Yakuza desperate to save his clan, the game ends up being a weirdly captivating story of community building and redemption. When life is so unpredictable, it's the people we can turn to that make the real difference. Sometimes those people are wacky ass mascots. Great vibe from top to bottom. Even as indie games start to match bigger productions in fidelity and scope, I'm glad games like Promise Mascot Agency exist.
Favorite Mascot: Salary-Nyan
Least favorite open world activity: Chasing the fox spirits for the truck upgrades
7. Like a Dragon Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii
Like a Dragon: Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii dares to ask the question, "Could you set an entire Yakuza game in the substory dimension?" The answer as it turns out, is a rather resounding no. Majima's gaiden adventure follows a similar framework as Kiryu's The Man Who Erased His Name, but overall lands flatter than its predecessor. Majima is such a magnetic character, you can't help but be drawn to his bizarre charisma. That charisma papers over a lot of the game's flaws, but it just isn't enough to make you forget you're playing a game that functionally has zero long-term bearing on the overarching story of the Tojo Clan. The pirate antics are a fun side show, but there's a reason most RGG games relegate these sort of things to substories.
Whereas Kiryu's adventure ended up being a surprisingly enthralling reckoning with the consequences of the Dragon of Dojima's long tenure as a crime world legend, Pirate Yakuza in Hawaii gives us almost nothing of substance for Majima. He's kind of just the haha wacky Yakuza man with the eyepatch. If you've played Yakuza 0 and were hoping for another Majima story of that narrative caliber, you're going to be disappointed.
Still, I can't help but enjoy the predictable spectacle of a good RGG game. These are games about men with big feelings laying down big ass beatings. Sure you know what's going to happen every time, but it doesn't make it any less fun. These are still the games that leave me with like 400 screenshots by the end.
Best pirate thing: The Majima Pirates theme song
Worst pirate thing: The ship combat after the 50th time
6. Dispatch
I've always loved superhero stories. I find the types of heroes we write say a great deal about how one defines the nebulous quality of heroism. As someone who no longer likes MHA or the MCU, and never really fell in love with Invincible or The Boys to begin with, I've found the pickings to be pretty slim these days. While it initially comes off as something closer to the vulgar subset of 'what if superheroes said fuck' stories, Dispatch has a surprising amount of sincerity. It's a game that believes good intentions and good actions go hand in hand; that you can only go so far with one or the other. That damaged people will fuck up on the journey to improvement. Often. That patience and understanding without being patronizing are the keys to facilitating real permanent growth.
I also found the actual hero dispatching mechanic to be surprisingly fun. I honestly got sick of Telltale games pretty quickly because I rarely find long QTE sections not called Asura's Wrath compelling enough to carry me to the next narrative slice. Comparatively, the dispatching gameplay is funny, brisk, and adds a lot of needed texture to the world. A character like Sonar is never going to be in the spotlight during the story sections, but you sure can give him a lot of really funny incidental dialogue during gameplay. There's just enough friction in the dispatching to really make you feel like you're slowly improving this team of heroic misfits.
It isn't the deepest story, but it has a lot of heart. And sometimes that's good enough.
Who I recruited: Water Boy
What I told the Z-Team: I'm Mecha Man
5. Lies of P Overture
Look if I could include Shadow of the Erdtree on my list last year, it's only fair. Lies of P remains the best Souls clone on the market. With Overture, I'm confident enough to declare Lies of P an outright better game than at least some portions of Fromsoft's own catalog. Like the Fromsoft games it's taking inspiration from, Overture acts as the lengthy DLC expansion that transports us to a bygone era, offering the player a glimpse into the events that would lead to this world's downfall. Mechanically, it's Lies of P at its hardest and sharpest. It manages to execute near perfectly on the format it's trying to emulate while finding its own uniquely compelling voice.
Last year I talked about how this type of DLC is supposed to serve as a sort of mechanical capstone on the game it's attached to. They're often the result of the developers honing their creative skills to the sharpest edge. Overture is hugely successful in that regard. Some of the game's best boss fights and moments are found here.
I found myself surprisingly invested in some of Overture's reveals. By foregoing some of Fromsoft's austere indifference to the player, it succeeds in making you feel like an involved participant in Krat's legacy. That what you did here had meaning, even if the world is still doomed. Considering the ways in which Shadow of the Erdtree left me somewhat cold and even a little exhausted of Elden Ring, I can't help but be impressed by what Overture manages to achieve.
Also, the game features maybe one of the coolest implementations of the gunblade weapon archetype I've ever seen.
Favorite weapon: Pale Knight
Favorite boss: Markiona, Puppeteer of Death
4. Xenoblade Chronicles X Definitive Edition
This is here mostly because I'm never going to be given another excuse to talk about XCX in my life again. XCX has always deserved better than being consigned to the ignoble WiiU, and it's deeply validating to see it get its brief moment in the spotlight thanks to a Switch remaster. It is a fascinating game in many regards. It (seemingly) bears no resemblance to its predecessors and yet is undeniably a product of its lineage.
Unlike the generally individualistic nature of most RPGs in which you (and a small unit of curated cohorts) are alone against a hostile world, XCX crafts a collectivist fantasy of mankind's shared struggle to survive on an unfamiliar alien planet. I think there's something particularly alluring to this fantasy.
Fundamentally, the game is trying to replicate the illusion of communal effort in what is 99% a single player game. It's trying to feel like a Destiny 2 or Final Fantasy XIV, but without the inherent baggage that a live game possesses. You feel like you've been enlisted in part of a grander mission, something greater than yourself. It's honestly refreshing, even if the framework of the game mostly boils down to doing 12 side quests to fill up a bar, upon which you are rewarded with the next cutscene.
Deep down, I'm actually not sure if XCX is a good game. If it has a good story, fun characters, compelling gameplay, or anything of substance to actually say. And yet I find myself inexorably drawn to it. There's always another meter to fill, another giant creature to slay, another mecha to unlock. Arguably Hiroyuki Sawano's greatest soundtrack plays in the background as I collect my 16th bear ass. I'm told this will meaningfully contribute to humanity's survival. I grind the same endgame world boss with the same broken Skell build that lets me take its health from 14 million to 0 in less than 5 button presses. I do this in hopes that this time it'll drop the gold rarity weapon with the right subskill for my build. With it, I'll be able to kill this boss in 4 button presses next time. The failing energy reserves powering humanity's last bastion ticks down another point. 11% until our extinction.
Everyday we've heard all the bad news
The world can't get along
Every time I must find the truth
It's not for anyone
Come on we are going down
But don't give up to live your life
Survive
Don't give it away
Oh please tell me
Why must we face these hard times?
Don't look away
Where is your heart oh please
I've always heard you
Believe what she said today
Remember how to come from the rain
Maybe it's because XCX is an attempted encapsulation of my dream game. A mecha themed JRPG that evokes the fantasy of being drafted into the war effort for the fate of mankind. That if we just work together, grind hard enough, shoot enough of the bad aliens in our cool mechs, and deliver enough pizza to the good aliens, maybe humanity will prove it deserves to persist. That in the face of such an obvious and pending existential threat, we could collectively band together into a force exponentially stronger than the sum of its individuals. All in the name of the greater good. It's a comforting fantasy I guess.
Favorite Skell: Mastema
Underrated feature: One of the best jumps in video games
3. Citizen Sleeper 2
Xenoblade Chronicles X is a game in which I choose to read a collectivist message between the margins of its single player MMO framework. Citizen Sleeper 2 is the game that is explicitly about the importance of community building, safety networks, and finding personal meaning in the face of hardship. It feels like a real evolution in the themes its predecessor was exploring.
Citizen Sleeper 2 is probably 2025's best written game. Like its predecessor, the prose flows with an elegance that elevates everything it touches while never losing sight of the tangible pain and struggle that tint nearly every character in its beautiful but ramshackle world. I found myself stunned by some of the game's passages. I couldn't even attempt to describe them, that would do them injustice. Just know it succeeds at basically everything it attempts to tackle. Like the collective action of the game's characters, Amos Roddy's evocative soundtrack and Guillaume Singelin's sublime artwork are instrumental in turning Citizen Sleeper 2's excellent literature into something even greater, something more powerful than the sum of its parts.
There's a real sense of enjoyment to be found in mastering Citizen Sleeper 2's systems. Balancing resources and risk to achieve your goals is on paper, a satisfying problem to solve. How will you use your limited dice pool? Is it better to take a big risk now to meet an impending deadline, or can we find an alternative solution with a clear head and more resources? Doing well feels like being good at a job you don't particularly love. No matter how seemingly inglorious your job is or how inhumane your employers, it doesn't mean you can't take some pride in a job well done.
I do wish the mechanics better enforced the narrative's themes though. Citizen Sleeper 2 is simply too easy to ever really feel the struggle of laboring under capitalism. I read passage after passage about how much people are struggling in this awful future, but I never really inhabit it in the act of playing. If you know basic statistical risk management and are a good person, there's basically no major obstacles in the game. Not once are you ever punished for being a wholly altruistic person. The only reason I bring this up is because Citizen Sleeper 1 often put me in situations where I had to frame my morality against my survival. I want to be a good person, but being a good person does not pay the bills. It kind of does in Citizen Sleeper 2. It sort of defangs the game's messaging, but not enough to take away from its captivating narrative achievements.
Favorite crew member: Juni
Weirdest unresolved plot point: Marko
2.5. Silent Hill F
I did not play Silent Hill F. I'm too much of a scaredy cat when it comes to horror games. Resident Evil is about as far as I can handle, and even then, I've always preferred the more action heavy ones. I did however watch multiple LPs of the game, including all the endings. The purist in me determined that I can't include a game I didn't actually play, so think of this as an honorable mention and an indication of where Silent Hill F would have gone had I been able to play it myself.
If Citizen Sleeper 2 is 2025's best written game, Silent Hill F is 2025's best told story. What I mean by that is that the synthesis of narrative elements, acting, and directing make it easily the most enthralling story I experienced this year. Hinako is a deeply compelling protagonist and the twists and turns of her journey through Ebisugaoka held me in rapt attention until the very end.
It's a game that makes you think it's going to be about a certain subject, only later to reveal that was simply the first layer of its themes. It leverages the sociopolitical context of Showa-era rural Japan better than you could even imagine. It's fairly obvious early on that Silent Hill F wants to talk about women. The ways in which they struggle under paternalistic systems, but also how certain members of the oppressed are sometimes the most likely to become its most ardent enforcers. It's a vicious cycle and escaping it may take drastic, upsetting action. Somehow this is merely the surface level reading of the game. Upon multiple playthroughs, the layers peel away, and it has so much more to say about the world than you might expect.
All throughout, I found myself remarkably affected by how much the game is willing to lend a sympathetic lens. It's an uncompromised viewport that exposes the virtues and failings of all its principal actors. We are all victims of the system but when some of us have the power to reduce harm and choose not to, that is still worthy of scrutiny.
Wild to live in a world where Silent Hill is back and in such strong form. Ryukishi07 I owe you an apology. I wasn't familiar with your game.
Favorite track: The Bird's Lament
Nastiest jump scare: The scales puzzle with the wooden dolls
2. Final Fantasy VII Rebirth
I can't believe this game exists. It shouldn't. I cannot help but feel some strange sense of awe in the presence of Rebirth. I think it's because fundamentally, it feels like a game that shouldn't exist. Even the most high profile JRPGs can't come even close to the financial power wielded by AAA game development. Xenoblade 3 or Metaphor don't possess even a speck of the sheer weight of resources poured into The Last of Us, God of War, or your average Ubisoft game. There's a lot of reasons for this that are historic, economic, and regional, but the end result is JRPGs rarely have that "prestige" sheen associated with the most expensively produced video games. And then here comes Rebirth, cashing in on the titanic cultural impact of Final Fantasy VII. A game unmatched in its historical importance. So you get the absurd yet irresistible project that is the Final Fantasy VII Remake. The first and maybe last AAA JRPG.
Utterly deranged HD cutscenes. Hundreds of bespoke track compositions for every individual moment. Entirely new types of games are made inside of Rebirth to better capture every tiny piece of that original PS1 game. No luxury too great, no expense spared in the name of achieving this insanely ambitious goal.
And you know what? It works, for the most part. Rebirth is a delightful game. It's charming, ludicrous, and heart-pumping. For every moment like Rebirth's extravagant recreation of the Golden Saucer, you get some of the highest-definition JRPG pathos ever recorded. Barret's backstory is legitimately heartbreaking. I'm pretty comfortable at this point calling him one of the greatest characters in the history of the JRPG.
However, I also cannot deny Rebirth collapses under the weight of its own extravagance. The solo Cait Sith section in Shinra Manor is by far the worst experience I have played in a video game in 2025. I cannot be explicit enough, Rebirth is not my #1 game of 2025 because of this specific sequence. It's so godawful it makes me question even having it this far up. Xenoblade Chronicles X might have been 50 hours of MMO sidequests, but not a single one of them was as bad as this.
I don't want to just call out every bad part of Rebirth but for all of its highs, there's a lot more lows than I experienced in Remake. And that worries me. While I broadly think all the big moments in Rebirth work, a lot of them only work barely. I fear with Rebirth the FFVII Remake project gets dangerously close to being destroyed by its own hype. In spite of that, I can't help but be impressed that Rebirth exists in all its excessive glory. There will never again be a game like Final Fantasy VII, and there will never again be a game like Final Fantasy VII Rebirth.
Favorite minigame: Queen's Blood
Worst minigame: Throwing the boxes with Cait Sith
1. Hollow Knight Silksong
Despite the anticipation that's built up over the years, the long-awaited Hollow Knight Silksong manages to not only live up to expectations, but surpass them. Following Hornet's journey to topple the great and terrible powers of Pharloom, Silksong is an adept evolution of the Hollow Knight formula. It's faster, harder, and more ambitious in ways both expected and surprising. I was charmed by Hollow Knight but I wasn't made into a convert. Contrary to the memes about Silksong's lengthy development, I anticipated the game a normal amount. I liked the first, I figured I'd like the second whenever it finally released. That it impressed me as much as it did was a pleasant surprise.
I don't want to put down another game in order to praise Silksong, but I can't help but compare it to Hades II, another long-awaited sequel to a very popular indie game. Hades II is a disappointingly safe sequel. Even as someone who plays every RGG game because I simply like the flavor, I found myself constantly surprised by Hades II. Not surprised by its new weapons or characters, but by how fundamentally little the game does as a sequel. It's maybe the least interesting game I played in 2025. Comparatively, I constantly found myself marveling at the ways in which Silksong was willing to interrogate what it means to be a sequel to Hollow Knight, both mechanically and narratively. I understand why some Hollow Knight fans do not like Silksong, because it is explicitly not Hollow Knight 2. It plays different in some key ways that I found very interesting, but I get how that would be off-putting to some.
In many ways, it's a much more direct and confident game. Hollow Knight was mostly willing to let its narrative work as a background actor; something to be pursued should it strike your fantasy. Meanwhile, Silksong has quite a bit to say about the state of the world and its characters. Uninterested in being a cipher for the player, Hornet voices her opinions about the world. Hallownest was long dead by the time the Knight arrives. Pharloom is a dying world. But in those death throes are the hints of life, growth, and renewal. As long as Hornet draws breath, this world can be mended.
In the face of seemingly inevitable ruin, what is the worth of the struggle itself? Organized religion may be leveraged as an oppressive force, but faith itself possesses boundless potential. Faith in others, faith in yourself, faith that this world can be put to rights. That you can touch the untouchable, break the unbreakable. Hornet's unshakeable confidence that she will be neither chained monarch or doomed martyr is in some ways, faith in her own capability to affect meaningful change. The end of Pharloom will not be the end of the world. It's beautiful stuff thematically, working in perfect conversation with the apocalyptic nature of the Souls games Silksong draws so much inspiration from.
I liked Silksong plenty when I finished it, but my appreciation for it has only grown over time. There's a quiet dignity to Silksong's excellence on every front. The combat is frequently demanding, but never malicious in its tasks. It asks you to pay attention to spacing, timing, and pattern recognition. Bosses will use moves to control space and put you into unfavorable positions. Unwinnable situations are often the result of ceding space and time to the enemy more than simply "unfair" attack strings. Success in Silksong's combat demands an understanding of how your moveset allows you to control the flow of combat. It's maybe one of the only single player games I've ever played where I had to think about the concept of controlling neutral like a fighting game.
It's also a beautiful game. Silksong commits to a generally harsh art direction, that befits the theocratic oppression of Pharloom. This is a world bled dry by its higher powers. It makes the fleeting moments of lushness feel more special. While it still contains many of the familiar Metroidvania biomes (a water place, a fire place, etc.), it finds unique ways to contextualize them within the framework of Pharloom as a tangible place in the world of Hollow Knight. Christopher Larkin's music brings its familiar understated finesse that occasionally spills into unforgettable bombast. Every facet of Silksong's production feel so masterfully crafted they make it seem effortless despite the fact that every facet of Silksong is clearly the result of Team Cherry's intense effort and attention. If you put a gun to my head I think I'd still give it to Nine Sols, it just better vibes with my own personal sensibilities. But Hollow Knight Silksong is the platonic ideal of what a sequel can achieve. A product of a uniquely blessed creative process, you can't help but wonder if Silksong is truly that unique in its craft, or if it's a brief glimpse at what games could be, unfettered by financial and creative restrictions. Either way, it's a miracle.
Best zone: Cogwork Core
Boss I didn't expect to kick my ass so many times: Sister Splinter