Do you ever feel so alone
That you could implode and no one would know?
And when you look around and nobody’s home
Don’t you wanna go back to wherever we’re from?
To wherever we’re from
—”Glum”, Ego Death at the Bachelorette Party, Haley Williams
I do think escapism can save the world.
In the book, I Leave It Up to You, by Jinwoo Chong, a man wakes up from a coma only to find the world he once knew has completely changed in the midst of his two-year slumber. There is nothing fantastical about this: the main character, Jack, simply got into an accident. Resuming his life, he is now forced to not only confront the baggage that he previously endured, but the problems that he himself brought to others in his absence.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder, but if I am absent, am I doing anything? And so, I still always struggled with the thought that always being busy contributes to breaking down some sort of system—I didn’t even know which one! Finishing this book was no exception to this unintentional journey I have been on when it comes to consuming media that cycles through the same themes of grief, generational trauma, and general crisis.
At the same time, I have been completely enamored listening to Haley Williams’ album Ego Death at the Bachelorette Party. She explores aging, anger, anguish, and artistry—especially through the lens of her solo career and complex relationship with Paramore. I am constantly reminded all too well of my own baggage to unpack when it comes to being a woman and my relationship to what is going on in the world outside of play. Yet, it was due time that I myself needed to go through a titular ego death: I needed to simply learn again how to have fun and get over myself.
There are games with a soft surface like Kemono Teatime that are more than capable of having the artistry to do justice to grief. You’re also allowed to let yourself escape and immerse as avatars in their eternal virtuality in VRChat. The loud chaos that exists in a world likeThe Hundred Line: Last Defense Academy is allowed to co-exist with the quiet and somber of Skate Story. Games can be art, and some art is escapism, but games will always be just games.
Every year I always say something cliche and twee like, “I learned a lot about myself”—because it’s true! It is another year and nothing may change the fact that I am fatherless, fickle, and more frail than ever, but it doesn’t stop the fact that we can sing about the shit of the world while also trying to do something about it. So yes, I think escapism can save the world, because if we all owe ourselves a few moments of happiness, there is less room for hate to survive. I believe in us, sans sabotage.
5. Necesse
I played a lot of multiplayer titles this past year. Somehow what stuck out to me the most, with all its goofy deaths and obligatory moments in the voice chat, was Necesse. Necesse is a sandbox game with open world elements where you customize your character, explore various biomes, fight, collect, craft, and etcetera. I am aware this absolutely sounds unoriginal.
So let’s be honest here: Necesse is kind of ugly (Is that Stardew Valley’s UI?) It’s not entirely original in its mechanics (Rimworld is right there.) And the bigger, more polished titles in this genre are still there to always revisit (Terraria just had another update!) Its most unique feature. compared to the aforementioned titles. is your ability to not only gather and recruit NPC allies, but also set up a pretty robust system where you can separately assign and automate their roles. And honestly, it’s pretty impressive.
The reality is that Necesse has stood out to me as a release from 2025 less for its quality and more for how much I had enjoyable moments in it. It was satisfying to further complete the hubworld wherever I went further in dungeons in Core Keeper, a comparable game. It was satisfying to the lizard part of my brain to solve a room in Escape Simulator 2. And I have spent way more hours feeling the satisfaction of finally finishing off years-long campaigns with the sickest party of pals in For the King II. But there is also something so fun about never running out of wood again once you assigned a lumberjack. There is something so fun about finally arming up your weird little guys and winning against your first invasion. It’s also really fun seeing your wee little villager take their first shot at an enemy when you equip them with their first gun. Again, you can do these in other games, but I had fun playing Necesse.
I am willing to accept that I may just one day eat my words and that Necesse will soon be a title that won’t find longevity in my future queue. But whether co-op or “friendslop”, don’t let anyone deter you from using games for both building bridges and bullshit.
4. S4U: CITYPUNK 2011 AND LOVE PUNCH
S4U: CITYPUNK 2011 AND LOVE PUNCH is text simulation slash visual novel game set in the far past future year of 2011. You play as a contractor who has to chat online on behalf of clients, typically taking on a different identity, in order to solve their problems.
Its pastel hues and soft anime-inspired style contrasts the decisions you often have to make in this job that is basically an invasion of privacy. Helping your clients sometimes involves inferring information from social media public channels, but you also have the unbridled power of remote access given to you by your employer to see and even intervene in people’s private message channels. This gameplay is very cleverly executed by typing out your dialogue choices on a literal desktop computer in front of you.
The game’s overall ambience and intent feel very similar to VA-11 Hall-A: Cyberpunk Bartender Action; and with VA-11 Hall-A’s own success, it’s hard not to make homage accusations with such a similar title structure. VA-11 Hall-A’s Jill and S4U: CITYPUNK’s Miki both have their own distinct personalities, yet serve as the player’s avatar in how they intervene and play god with the relationships that unravel before them. S4U: CITYPUNK clearly comments on our desire for connections through a screen, and its source of inspiration does it through drink. Yet, it doesn’t reduce these themes to simply how we keep sabotaging ourselves through technology, and instead, paints the complexities of human interactions no matter the medium.
3. The Drifter
Crawl might be up there as a genuine classic to me for its ease of replayability and generally stellar design. It’s exciting to see the dynamic duo of Powerhoof return once again—over six years since their last title—to deliver a title that executes an oxymoronic combination of dark and vibrant themes. The Drifter is a text adventure game that follows Mick Carter, a man whose boundless life is upturned after witnessing a murder. He is mysteriously resurrected after being killed himself, and upon awakening is forcibly thrust into uncovering some revelations about this dark world and himself.
I love text adventure games as much as I despise them. Too many of them try to be funny—and fail at it—thinking they can emulate the scripts of Sierra Entertainment as if they’re the next Monkey Island title. They can be overwrought with scope creep: there are far too many puzzles posed as “challenging” when in reality, their solutions are less based in logic and are instead inspired by the designer’s biases. Where The Drifter succeeds as a modern text adventure is that it doesn’t rely too hard on pastiche, despite carrying a very classic unconventional “hero” setup through this noir-inspired, thriller tale. It doesn’t try to subvert—even though it does subvert. But most importantly, its writing is solid, especially when it comes to its humanization of archetypes that typically don’t get that treatment in other pieces of media, such as the homeless. And well, it just looks damn good.
The game does have its flaws: it does feel like it treats a few of its puzzles as an afterthought; and it’s less that I often ran into bad logic, but more so that they sometimes don’t feel as fleshed out as they could be. Where The Drifter succeeds is in keeping me intrigued throughout a story. And any good story that keeps me intrigued, I consider a success.
2. Little Witch In the Woods
Little Witch In the Woods is just one of those cute games that anyone can easily pass time with by curling up in a little hut in a bog to rot. You play as a young apprentice witch who is sent out on a journey to reaffirm her witchhood and grow. You got cats, you got talking animals, you got fishing. You fulfill quests, craft, and customize—these are all the checkboxes of a “cozy game”.
There are numerous interpretations of the coming-of-age witch story, and Studio Ghibli’s Kiki’s Delivery Service is one of my favorite films from their catalog, particularly for nostalgic reasons. Growing up, I always had a strong relationship with the mahou shojo genre, and Cardcaptor Sakura was my shit: I was attracted to how Sakura had all these “witchlike” allusions to sorcery and pseudo-magic imagery that I had not seen in other titles of its genre when I first watched it. And of course, Sakura’s fits.
It just makes sense that Little Witch In the Woods is the type of game that’s completely up my alley. Most especially, it’s a game that exudes such genuine positivity in its affirmation of community, to always look out and help each other where you can.
1. Back to the Dawn
In Back to the Dawn, you’ve got to break out of jail.
You are given the choice of two protagonists to play: Thomas the Fox, a journalist who has been wrongfully thrown into the slammer for being close to outing a major conspiracy, and Bob the Panther, an undercover agent who poses as an inmate to do one last job. In both cases, the end goal of these two characters is to escape prison, but it is their time inside that matters the most when it comes to unraveling various story threads and truths.
I am a huge fan of RPGs, and specifically enjoy seeing games so heavily inspired by tabletop roleplaying systems that try to depart from typical popular fantasy IP, like Disco Elysium. Numerous choices you confront to progress the game in Back to the Dawn are based on skill checks, and your chances of success rely on your character’s skills or perhaps even access to certain items. Are you trying to best one of the strongest people in your cell block, or are you simply earning a reputation to access a secret club? You have various opportunities throughout the jail’s complex to improve these skills, such as improving your strength from weight training or winning fights.
There is just so much to do in this game. There’s a whole ecosystem where you can do menial tasks like cleaning, or you can find yourself in a poker match with the boys to earn money for better food. This is reflective of the reality that capitalism does not disappear behind bars, and that many people in prison still need to do jobs to participate in some sort of currency exchange system.
Despite being a game that can take you across many different paths, Back to the Dawn excels in making every piece of writing meaningfully add dimension to all of the different characters you encounter. Ironically expressing humanity through anthropomorphic animal characters, you experience the breadth of life, that many dismiss, which exists behind the prison system, the reality of who is often wronged by it, and the bonds and communities that have to form between prisoners to simply survive and preserve their own dignity.
I have played an earlier build of Back to the Dawn, and its full release is the result of four years of development as the debut title by indie studio Metal Head Games. Even in its earlier stages, the game already felt very robust and well developed, sans a second character option. For what Back to the Dawn is, I look forward to what this developer can possibly bring in the future.
I am happy that there is a piece of anthropomorphic fiction that tries to unpack these topics way better than Disney’s Zootopia. Justice is something we all aspire to, after all.
