Remember the 12 for 12 challenge? The one I was excited for at the beginning of the year?

About that…

2026 has proven challenging for a lasting backlog commitment, especially for someone as easily distracted and excitable as myself. I envisioned the 12 for 12 challenge as a way to pad my gaming year in between a handful of new releases and big games I was getting ready to play—a mix of old and new, as it were, a way to broaden my gaming horizons while staying current with the industry beat.

Well, I severely underestimated the sheer number of fun games that would come our way in 2026. It’s not that I didn’t know that there were a lot of good games coming. I just wasn’t prepared for how many of them I would want to play right then and there.

To make matters worse, being a game journalist and all, access to games is easy as pie now. No barriers, no safeguards. Full Steam ahead.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m still excited and full of enthusiasm for the games on the 12 for 12 challenge list. If anyth…

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Getting lofty for a second: I’ve been thinking about the shared experience of playing video games. The reasons why we, the collective we, even play video games.

A few things floating around the internet lately have put me on that train of thought:

Unity and their genAI asset platform promising to conjure a ready-to-play game within minutes. In the same vein, AI bros on Twitter and LinkedIn talking about 20,000 video games per hour, created exactly to each person’s liking. Same bros boasting about AI-generated music getting so good it’s about to make human-made music redundant.

When I imagine a barrage of “customized” entertainment at my fingertips that I can swipe through, taste, and discard, my mind balks at the idea. To a degree, our entertainment is already there—on-demand, on a whim, a functionally endless supply. But generating something specific to fit a precise mood and moment is something else. Moral and practical issues with genAI aside, this premise creates a circular, closed …

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When I started this Substack, I had the vague ambition of eventually turning it into an income source. Not a large one by any stretch, as I wasn’t that naive even then. That ambition quickly dissipated as I actually started writing and getting deeper into the weeds of games journalism.

Not too long ago, I made a promise to myself that I would enable the paid tier subscription option on my Substack once I reached 500 subscribers. Not because I believe in thresholds like that, or that reaching a specific, even if nice and round, number ensures success. It was just a goal to keep going.

And, well, there it is. There are 500 of you now. Five hundred beautiful, smart mostly-strangers reading my work. Thank you 🫶

Time to turn on paid subs, I suppose?

Now doesn’t feel like a good time to be asking for money. Every outlet needs money. Everyone needs money. We’re all passing the same 5 bucks around, as my friends both in journalism and streaming communities like to say.

More importantly, I have been honest with you, my readers, in saying that my journalism focus lies elsewhere. I publish here weekly, but I pitch, write, and edit as a freelancer daily. I prioritize pitching and commissioned reporting for the obvious reason: I need money, too.

Building a career in journalism is slow-going. There isn’t a way to rush connections, knowledge, and trust. There isn’t a way to rush playing video games, either. I’m making strides! I am positive about the future! But it all isn’t enough for right now, for today.

Game journalists are going extinct, to say nothing of women journalists, POC and queer reporters and critics. As a journalist, I'm still keeping this up for many reasons for which I’m very grateful, but make no mistake: I will also go extinct if nothing changes, because even the longest runways run out and the most understanding spouses lose patience. (Not mine; he’s a saint.)

Playing This Week benefits greatly from the journalism work I do. I absolutely love bringing scoops and previews here that are too wild or too whimsical to publish elsewhere. I love the full editorial and creative freedom of having my own newsletter. I would love nothing else but to be able to do more with it, to free up some time and space to bring the reporting I do elsewhere here, at least some of the time.

So I am going to turn on the paid subscriptions. Yes, to follow up on the promise, but I also just want to stick around as a games journalist. I believe in what I’m trying to do. If you want to support me in that, you’re very welcome to help if you can afford to.

Upgrade subscription

It’s a tip jar, as my friend and colleague calls it, but a tip jar with potential; if it grows large enough, who knows what Playing This Week could become?

Thank you for being here.

(Shoutout to one of my friends who didn’t know what CBC was. I hope you get acquainted. 😊)

CBC Arts is the CBC’s subdivision covering Canadian artists, filmmakers, musicians, actors, playwrights, and now also game makers. I hope one day to see a dedicated games section on CBC (and contribute to it!), but for now, CBC Arts will do. Video games are art, after all.

I worked hard to come up with a pitch that would shine a spotlight on the incredible games in development in Toronto and also challenge the perception of video games being “less than,” which I still encounter often outside my gaming bubble. It was the first time I’ve written for a distinctly non-gaming audience, and I enjoyed the challenge.

So today, in the spirit of connecting my Substack audience with my journalism work off the platform, I’d like to share an excerpt of the CBC article with you here. You can read the rest on the CBC website for free—visits, views, and clicks all help a ton.

These small Canadian video game studios are telling big stories

Inside three games studios where storytelling is what comes first

Katya Ryabova · CBC Arts · Posted: Oct 05, 2026 2:07 PM EDT | Last Updated: October 6

When most people think about the Canadian video game industry, they’re imagining the big, splashy AAA blockbuster titles made by the Canadian arms of multinational corporations, games like Assassin’s Creed or Dead by Daylight.

But those studios are just the tip of the iceberg in an industry that contributes roughly $5 billion to Canada’s GDP. And underneath them is a group of small, independent studios that are leaning into the idea that video games are, first and foremost, a story-driven medium.

Survival game Akiiwan: Relaxing Survival, first-contact role-playing game ROSETIA, and gothic mystery adventure Curse of Resthaven have little in common at first glance. They’re from different genres and have vastly different game dynamics. But the thing they all share is the fact that they are made by people who are deeply invested in narrative storytelling…

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The broad critical consensus about CONTROL Resonant has been positive, as far as I can tell, but there has been a fair share of criticism, too. Negative reviews continue to pop up here and there in the unlikeliest places.

The reviews I’ve read don’t pull any punches in analysing why the game did or didn’t stick the landing. Yet, I’ve been playing it for almost two weeks now (my deepest gratitude to Remedy Entertainment for providing me with a review key), and the more I go, the more I marvel at just how perfect it is.

Somehow, it’s a game tailor-made for me.

I didn’t expect a perfect game out of Resonant either. I wasn’t even looking forward to it much. The first CONTROL was difficult for me; a stressful, if exhilarating, experience. I remember it as a masterclass in world-building and lore drips, with breathtaking art direction, set pieces, and <insert all the usual accolades for CONTROL>. I also remember it as a game I only managed to finish thanks to Remedy’s excellent Assist Mode.

A melee combat-heavy sequel seemed a dubious proposition. Sure, I still wanted to play it—a broad interest I express towards many games, most of which I end up never touching. I knew CONTROL Resonant was going to make splashes, so I chased after a Gamescom appointment to see some new gameplay early (The Park) just for the heck of it. Got an FBC pin out of it, and thought that was the end of it.

By the time the first review embargo lifted a week before release, I stopped hoping for a preview key and started reading the reviews—with great interest. Most were good, even great; some not. The combat was criticized; Dylan was called unlikable; the map was apparently unreadable and the world hard to traverse. Major stuff. Big if true. I needed to see for myself.

On Friday, September 18, I was granted a review key.

Combat, world exploration, and a well-written/well-liked protagonist are crucial for any action-adventure game’s success. Inventive level design, stunning art direction, or clever writing cannot outrun their flaws. The way critics split on them in CONTROL Resonant was fascinating. Incidentally, these exact three also shaped the game into an experience unlike any other for me, making it a clear GOTY contender.

It’s not just Dylan and combat that make CONTROL Resonant special, of course, but its art direction, level design, and music aren’t points of contention. We all agree that Remedy absolutely blew it out of the park (ha) there, as only Remedy can.

I’m not saying that the critics are wrong in other ways. Objectively, I agree with a lot of the critique about the combat and the open world choices Remedy made. In a different game, similar blunders could be game-breaking for me as well. The game’s flawed parts speak to me on a level I struggle to articulate, each in their own way. The game doesn’t merely stick the landing; it does so with a decisive flourish and a superhero stance, a smirk and a wink.

The unique mishmash that is CONTROL Resonant just works for me.

The combat

You’ve heard it already, folks: combat in CONTROL Resonant is simplistic and repetitive! Enemies are damage sponges, and mobs are exhausting and unrelenting. The weaponry variety is skin-deep despite the seemingly numerous choices. No weapon switching in combat limits Dylan to three moves at a time, basically.

Automatic combos. Automatic finishers. Just keep smashing that button, bro.

It’s true.

Except combat in CONTROL Resonant also feels sublime.

My main trepidation with action games is the physical challenge of learning complex controls and the finger dexterity required to execute with finesse. I’m a button masher, no matter how much I try practicing button discipline. Even with button combos and strings of attacks, I tend to stick to a few with the biggest impact on enemy health bars—the combos that I usually learn early in the game, any game.

I know I’m capable of mastering varied combat systems. I’m just not very interested in this sort of challenge. Action game lovers who are, were disappointed with CONTROL Resonant, and that’s perfectly fair, but goodness gracious, how much easier is it for me to have one button per attack, for the grand total of just two of them?!

This simplicity allows me to focus on movement, the part that elevates combat in Resonant, both figuratively and literally. Right off the bat, Dylan’s moveset is eye-popping—dodge, jump, double-jump, levitation, dash—coded with such fluidity and finesse that combat on the ground doesn’t feel half as good as in the air.

I don’t think I have ever could, or wanted, to characterize combat in a game as hot or sexy, but in Resonant, it is apt. These descriptors are the closest I can get to expressing the sense of pleasure I can borderline feel physically while zooming and dashing with such grace in-game, only to perform a brutal, cinematic execution that slows the world down and takes my breath away every goddamn time.

These executions were—are—my favourite part ever in Resonant. Pre-patch they were exceedingly rare, and I delighted in the feeling evoked by the cinema of it all. Mid-game, not so rare anymore, but I’m pretty sure I only stopped squealing in delight at triggering them hours upon hours in.

As far as enemies being enemy sponges, they certainly felt very tanky at first. Having begun the game pre-Day 1 patch (as most reviewers have), which nerfed enemy health and balanced stun accumulation, I can relate to the complaints about the combat being grindy and exhausting. The bulk of my experience with the game is post-patch, and I’m certain the critics would have softened their stances if they could play the more balanced version. It felt like night and day. Still does.

The hero

Look, I get it, Dylan Faden has big shoes to fill after Jesse, but I don’t understand people who call him unlikable or difficult to relate to. The Polygon review reads like a hit piece for that reason, which just boils down to “I don’t like him, because he’s not Jesse”, and true enough, he’s not.

He’s awkward, and hunched over, and his head looks too big for his body. He starts the game running around in prison sweats with a mop of unwashed hair and a giant proverbial backpack of trauma and guilt on his shoulders.

Not relatable at all, no sir.

I think Dylan is just fab. He is kind-hearted and a big kid at his core, a traumatized guy robbed of his childhood by the FBC, a victim of the Hiss, an unwitting perpetrator of murders, a dude who was in a coma for seven years, for god’s sake. He needs a hot dog and a hug.

He is also awesome when he is in his (fighting) element. He’s competent, ruthless, fast. See: combat, above. He is a fluid, superhero-like power fantasy personified.

It’s not even about him being hot, although my friends have certainly been having a field day with jokes about his Aberrant Rod, teasing me relentlessly after I confessed to finding him attractive.

He is written well. His character works for me. He has a big-ass hammer. I don’t know what else to tell you.

The playing field

Last but not least: the open world. Go anywhere, do anything, in any order, be limited only by your abilities, but always have a way to get stronger.

Could that work in a Remedy game? Especially after the linear confines of The Oldest House, which I found suffocating?

A lot of people will tell you, no, it didn’t work for them. Not like that. And they will be well within their rights to. Navigating the areas is difficult. The map isn’t very helpful. Finding a way into a specific building or area is often a quest in and of itself.

This is all valid.

But I fucking love it. “I’m slow, and I like to explore” is how I explained it one time.

I like running into random businesses on the streets of Manhattan.

I like picking up documents and tape recordings—I read or listen to each rapturously, even though they are there mostly for lore and flair, not for in-game clues.

I love stumbling across lil side quests unprompted and solving them on my own, no matter how much back and forth between areas is required. (Looking at you, SINKKI D50!)

I also adore the random-ass sketching moments. The heartwarming absurdity of them. The RPG completionist vibe.

Alternating between big set pieces and finding respite in the small and sometimes mundane is just such a perfect gaming experience for me. Slow, slow, fast. Slow, fast again. Fast, fast, fast.

The game allows me to vary the tempo of story progression, action, and exploration the way I want. I can honestly see myself returning to this world time and again just for that.

There is nothing quite like CONTROL Resonant out there. The road here was long and winding, but I’m happy that the game found its audience—me.

It has come to my attention that Substack doesn’t think I’m a real journalist know what I’m up to outside of writing my little posts here.

That’s really no surprise—how would you, if I don’t tell you? But I haven’t found an organic way to do so that would feel good. Substack notes treat links as text and (probably) deprioritize them, as does any other algorithmic platform. I could throw some links in my About section, but folks who visit it usually only do so once, if at all.

I do want to bridge my two worlds of game writing, though. Truth be told, it stings a little to know that one of them, which I consider my actual job, is overlooked here. This little Substack corner of hot takes and haphazard reflections means a lot to me, too, but I do my best work elsewhere.

So today, for a change, I’m going to hit you with a bunch of links from the publications I write for, with the list of articles I’m most proud of. I hope you give some of them a read 🧡

MobileSyrup

MobileSyrup is one of the leading consumer-oriented tech and gaming websites in Canada and the only one that puts legitimate effort and meaning into covering Canadian-made games and Canadian devs.

I love writing for them on newsworthy, timely topics, and have done interview features and event coverage from Toronto, Montréal, and now Cologne for Gamescom at their behest.

The list of my work with MobileSyrup is long, but here are some of my favourites:

Video Game Town

An awesome corner of video game writing and criticism that I feel doesn’t get as much love as it deserves, Video Game Town has always been receptive to my ideas and coverage of games I don’t see talked about enough elsewhere. Their occasional film and TV analysis is kickass as well—don’t sleep on it!

Here’s what I’ve contributed to the site so far:

Mothership

Mothership is home to my most unhinged ideas and takes that I simply don’t see exploring for anyone else. Analyzing games through the lens of intersectional feminism, gender, and sexuality is an extremely interesting proposition by itself, but the way Mothership’s editors Maddy Myers and Zoë Hannah approach it is what sets it apart. Yes, it’s a freaking cool place for a byline, but it’s also a safe space to pitch out-of-left-field ideas, grow as a games writer and freelancer, and meet other like-minded folks.

I absolutely love writing for them. Mothership is a paid subscription publication, so most of my work is paywalled, but it’s absolutely worth subscribing to!

Here’s what I’ve published on Mothership so far:

Pixel Byte Gaming

Run by some very passionate folks, Pixel Byte never fails to impress me with the sheer amount of quality analysis and reviews they manage to put out on a tiny budget. They asked me to cover a few previews at Gamescom recently, and I was happy to oblige:

Crossplay

Crossplay is a fabulous resource for parents who play games and who want their children to have a good, healthy time playing them too, in whichever form. It is one of the very few games media I pay for and also read consistently.

Patrick Klepek, who runs Crossplay, regularly invites guest contributors to write on a variety of topics within the newsletter’s purview, and these often end up as my favourite, perspective-shifting reads.

I will also be forever grateful to Patrick for being the very first editor to commission my first-ever game writing piece. I’ve written a couple more for him since then:

Crossplay

Video Game Ratings Icons Aren't Enough Anymore

My daughter has just turned two, so she’s not playing video games just yet. She’s curious and really likes poking the controller buttons. She can even tolerate sitting on my lap until I find a checkpoint to quit whatever game I was frantically playing while she napped…

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5 months ago · 21 likes · 6 comments · Katya Ryabova

Crossplay

Sick Days Are For Video Games and Letting Go

If getting a call from daycare in the middle of a workday isn’t the starkest reminder that you’re never truly in control as a parent, I don’t know what is…

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a year ago · 44 likes · 17 comments · Katya Ryabova

Crossplay

Becoming a Mom Broke My Relationship With Games. And Then I Fell in Love Again.

I’m open to running—and paying for!—more pitches at Crossplay, even from those without a byline. I’m more interested in life experience than work experience. Drop me an email. -pk…

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2 years ago · 42 likes · 10 comments · Katya Ryabova

Rogue

I have only written for the lovely folks at Rogue once, but goshdarnit if it wasn’t about the most beautiful game and with the most heartfelt words I could find. I read Rogue often, and you should, too.

That’s a wrap! No matter where you read my work, I appreciate your support on and off Substack, always.

Gamescom is yesterday’s news already. Of course. It’s been a while— now it’s Tokyo Game Show’s turn to flood my inbox with the same PR deluge, even though I’m not in Japan.

For the last couple of days, I enjoyed the last remaining bit of my month-long stay in Europe. Some say it was a vacation; I say it was anything but.

Did I play games? Not on my own time.

Did I think about games? You betcha.

As cliché as it sounds, Gamescom helped me remember why I persevere as a games journalist in the first place. (It also gave me an unprecedented look into the business underside of game development, where things can get ugly when money is king. I’ll publish a piece on it somewhere, sometime.)

It’s hard to sum up my Gamescom experience now, almost a month later. Perhaps I shouldn’t have delayed it for so long, but I owe it to myself to commit at least some of it to words.

I’ve seen some cool shit, big and small. Here are my favourite moments.

8) My first international conference!

The whole “I’m attending Gamescom” thing felt unreal in and of itself. I wrote about why I went this year, and the reasons in that essay will be the reasons I will try to go next year, and the next. Time is short; video games are fun; travel is one of my earliest, most beloved expensive hobbies.

It was my first time in Cologne and in Germany proper. I had a tiny hotel room that I ended up really liking, despite the lack of air conditioning, because it was close to everything, including the Koelnmesse itself—right across the bridge.

Copenhagen Coffee Lab nearby serves the best pastries and most excellent coffee, and I would eat there every day if I could.

7) New friends!

If this were an actual, and not a tongue-in-cheek, ranked list, meeting Harrison from Infinite Lives and Sey from Good Game Lobby would go straight to number one. Because seriously, my favourite memories of everything always end up being about the people.

In Cologne, it was a goddamn delight not just to meet two wonderful, whip-smart, and kind fellas in person, but to join in on hangouts, share intel, talk smack, theorize about GTA6, bitch about not getting invited to afterparties, and everything in between.

Seeing Sey and Harry was a lifeline in what was otherwise an incredibly busy, overwhelming, and tiring week. I felt in my element at Gamescom, but it was still lovely to take a breather in the company of friends.

6) PR vs game journalism

Gamescom is an excellent place for a new-ish journalist to witness the ruthless PR machine in action. The ungodly amount of money the game industry operates with, and the sheer level of excess that goes into marketing some of its biggest pieces, are astounding. And it all must be perceived, as critically as one can, to make its way into our writing.

Thinking critically about the money, where it comes from, and what it means is, to me, an important skill that was much easier to practice with the game industry wealth on blatant display.

It’s easy to be dazzled by the glitz, but receiving fun gifts doesn’t mean you owe anyone uncritical coverage.

5) Swag. So much swag.

And oh boy, were there gifts! My favourite part of Gamescom was showing up to my first appointment, fresh out of the chaos of figuring out where to get my badge, and being offered a coffee when I sat down to play Petit Planet.

Coffee, refreshments, and snacks are apparently a normal, expected part of any Business Area booth, but I had no idea. (Once I figured that out, I subsisted on that instead of eating bland and overpriced venue food.) But snacks are one thing; gifts were something else.

When said first appointment ended, the very lovely people working the Hoyoverse booth bowed and said they prepared a gift for me.

They walked out with a giant paper bag full of what you could imagine as typical convention swag. Stickers, keychains, magnets, posters, folders, a tote bag, a luggage tag, framed pictures. You name it. Massive.

I stuffed everything in my backpack, including the paper bag itself for some reason. Little did I know that that was nothing compared to the rest of the day and day 2.

My Time at Sandrock chibi set was one thing.

An expensive Arabian coffee box was another.

Being the magpie that I am, I had to pay for checked luggage to carry most of it home, and then I had to leave some things behind. That’s probably normal, but I wasn’t prepared.

Press gifts are a curious thing. I don’t think anyone owes anyone that, but it’s part of Gamescom as well, and here the critical thinking about the money that I mentioned above does come in very handy.

4) Exodus as the final push that convinced me to play Mass Effect

All this talk about Gamescom, and I’m only getting to the games themselves now, but well, here we go!

Exodus, developed by Archetype Entertainment with some of the BioWare veterans at the helm, wasn’t on my radar initially, but now that I got a chance to play it, I’m all in. Not only on Exodus, but on finally tackling Mass Effect, its spiritual predecessor, which, yes, I haven’t played yet. Still.

3) Checking out indie demos that caught my eye

One mistake I made with my Gamescom schedule was frontloading my day 1 with appointments and leaving day 2 largely free. Day 1 (Wednesday) is a trade-only day—I should have used it to roam around while the crowds were thinner, instead of wading through hordes of people the following day, when appointments would have been much more appropriate. Lesson learned.

I still managed to spot some very cool little indies, both in the Business Area and at the Indie Arena open to the public. (I never made it to more consumer-oriented halls, which apparently were a proper mess of people—and are every year.)

Some of my highlights:

• Mandrake by Failbetter Games, which I remembered seeing at Summer Game Fest 2025 (!). It looks very pretty and has an intriguing story cooking. Plant sorcery? Sign me up. Early access is expected sometime in 2027.

• Goblin Sushi by Swiss studio Old Cake Factory, a fun roguelite in the spirit of Overcooked, but with sushi and, you know… goblins. The game is out on PC and mobile.

• Waterful, by solo developer Lenja Kaufmann of Findling Games, is a strikingly beautiful puzzle game of connecting springs and digging rivers. Coming in 2027 (hopefully).

2) Spotting Young Suns at the Indie Arena

It was a lovely surprise to see Young Suns by Montréal-based KO_OP at the Indie Arena. Ever since Young Suns launched on Xbox Game Preview late last year, I’ve been a gushing fan. Not only because the game is cute and has lots of potential, but also because the studio behind it has strong principles and moral values that align with mine. I love me an ethical worker-owned studio co-op.

Young Suns recently got a massive content update, which I can’t wait to check out as soon as I get this piece out the door.

1) The Witcher 3: Songs of the Past expansion preview

Oh my Gamescom north star, oh my gaming white whale, my beloved game series that I will spend a thousand euros on a hotel room turn mountains for.

The Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt.

I saw the 30-minute-long, hands-off preview of the Songs of the Past expansion.

It looked beautiful.

They gave me a T-shirt.

CD Projekt RED, if you’re reading this, I’m Canada’s biggest TW3 fan. Call me for a press trip when the time comes.

I knew that before departing on my latest European jaunt. Given that the Steam beta for Chromebooks was set to end on January 1, 2026, it's remarkable that I not only successfully ran, but truly rocked gaming on my Chromebook in March.

However, the end date has finally caught up to me. I checked the app in early August, and it simply wouldn't run, so my Chromebook is Steam-compatible no more. (Yes, I can run a Linux version, but I haven't gotten the time to figure that out in time for my trip).

So no Steam games.

But wait!

Xbox has cloud streaming, right?

As someone with a still-active Ultimate subscription that was comped (Microsoft and Xbox can have a very merry fuck-you otherwise), I can take advantage of remote play via Xbox cloud. No installation, no nonsense, only a good old high-speed internet connection required to enjoy.

What could possibly go right in a small coastal Spanish village at the height of summer season? 😁

Well, Young Suns, an alpha version of a cozy sim in space that I'm quite fond of, doesn't run remotely at all, if you're wondering.

Another game I tested with no intention to play was Outbound. It loaded, at least, and while it was a little grainy, it was fine, I could deal with it if I wanted to. (I didn't.)

(I finally settled on playing a tiny bit of 1000xResist, which is a Canadian gem I’m definitely picking up in earnest once I’m back home in Canada.)

One issue is that the games I want to play, or actually consider starting, are not on Xbox. All my good shit backlog is on Steam. Plus, for the vacation, I need something a little more casual. No Mass Effect: Legendary Edition equivalents. 1000xResist is kickass, but it's heavy, and I only played it three times in small bursts, which were also laggy, thanks Xbox streaming.

The bigger issue is the fact that I'm not on my typical schedule. I'm supposed to be resting (??? what's that) while I hand in drafts and edits amidst corralling my precious child to the beach and back and trying to have time to myself, together with my husband. And I'm also expected to enjoy my usual vices of Spanish wine and siesta in the meantime. How?

Harkening back to my spring essay, one can try gaming on vacation, but one doesn't simply game on vacation. It requires time, desire, and the most elusive thing of all—mental energy for gaming. One that I, personally, currently find lacking.

I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I’m headed to Gamescom next week, where I'll have gaming experiences and connections galore. I can't wait; but at the same time, right now, I just want to kick back with an e-book and a glass of wine rather than stare at my admittedly generous, but still small Chromebook screen.

See you on the other side of summer, folks.

Right in time for Gamescom, it’s time to alienate potential contacts write another hard-hitting AI piece!

While I truly don’t want to discuss genAI any more than necessary, or at all, I find myself having a lot of conversations that end up as a repetition of the same thing. So it’s a good time to revisit what I publicly said about genAI in the past and set the record straight once more.

Last year, I wrote about The Alters, Clair Obscur, and the ubiquity of genAI.

Boy, I really thought it was everywhere back then. Little did I know how much worse it would get by mid-2026. My thinking about generative AI has evolved, as has the tech. I expected my stance to soften, but it mostly hardened instead. I like to think that I developed more nuance, but the gist of it hasn’t changed.

When I wrote that essay, I thought I was taking a hard line against genAI. Rereading it now feels almost cute: I declared that I would not touch, play, or cover any games that don’t disclose their use of genAI. Disclose. The bar was already in hell.

Since then, I have politely declined many offers of game keys and requests for coverage from studios that did disclose their genAI use. I appreciated them not wasting my time. “Yes” was never really an option for me, even if I hadn’t realized or verbalized it until now.

You see, every time I get an email or a message talking about genAI-assisted this and GPT-enabled that, the spark that lights up in me, excited to learn about a potential new gem, instantly fizzles, like a perpetually-wilted Squidward’s nose.

When a cold message has “genAI” and “great fit for Playing This Week” in the same sentence, I know the sender hasn’t read much of my newsletter. (I don’t really blame them because most emails are mass blasts with minimal personalization, and PR mail volume in video games is too damn high.)

I’m writing this, right now, to reaffirm that Playing This Week doesn’t cover games made with genAI, and that I, Katya, have no interest in writing about studios that use it.

I don’t want to touch games that genAI touched in any capacity. I just don’t.

And look: my not wanting it isn’t personal. It truly isn’t. It’s not a judgment of your character, your capabilities, your creative process, or your game’s budget.

I’m not trying to convince you or change your mind.

Things are hard out there. Maybe genAI helps you. Maybe it makes things possible for you that wouldn’t be otherwise.

I get it.

In return, you also don’t have to convince me.

What I think about your game or your process is of no concern to you. How you chose to, or were forced to, make it is of no concern for me, either.

I would ask you, a generalized you working on a game with genAI or promoting a game with genAI, not to waste your time offering it to me. But you will offer, for many reasons both wild and mundane, as is your right. And I will, most likely, decline, as is mine.

Here comes the hard part of why “most likely”?

Those gleefully declaring that “genAI is inevitable” and that “genAI is the future”, asking me to get on with the program, think that I don’t get it, that I don’t see what’s happening around me. But I do. My refusing to engage and having the luxury to do so for now doesn’t mean I’m not intimately aware of how it’s being shoved down everyone’s throats, including developers and game makers who don’t want it.

I still don’t want it. I still don’t accept genAI as inevitable. I still don’t believe it’s the future, even if the future will contain genAI in some form.

And I still want to do my job as a games journalist. I may still choose to cover games that use genAI in some way. (Yes, I will write about The Witcher 4 regardless of what CD Projekt Red does or doesn’t do.) I see a pathway where I would have to be discerning and not decline what I normally would, if doing my job necessitates it.

I might have to come up with a definition of an “acceptable” level of genAI use in video games, no matter how much I hate the concept. All so I can do my job. (Sure, no one is twisting my arm here; I can simply quit and change careers again, right?)

The only genAI touch I can sort of, maybe get behind is the purely secondary assistive form. If genAI doesn’t replace the human talent of translators, voice actors, designers, and coders, and isn’t the source of any ideas, art, or code—as long as nothing originates as genAI output—then maybe we can talk.

If you ask yourself, then what’s the point of genAI? Well, exactly. That’s a high bar to clear. Might as well not touch it at all and earn yourself some goodwill in the indie game press right off the bat.

I will always, always, always elevate, prioritize, and pay more attention to the studios that refuse to use any genAI tools. Call it unfair, call it a bias. I don’t care.

Have your ChatGPT, your Claude code, your DALL-E images, and your AI-generated storytelling. I’ll keep my wholly-human-made games, no matter how much their pool is shrinking.

They will always be more interesting to me, no matter how “imperfect.”

Falling in love with a demo is risky business. It wraps the game in layers of expectations, the player’s idea of the game, which may or may not come to pass.

I don’t need to tell you that a demo might be polished to oblivion, while the end product disappoints, or it may be horribly janky and hastily slapped together, giving a game you may otherwise adore a bad rep. Demos can make or break a game, and they are total crapshoots.

Mirthwood, the star of my 2025 summer DNF list, comes to mind immediately as an example. It was a gaming tale as old as time: described as a medieval take on Stardew Valley, it sounded exactly like my type of game. The demo made me so excited that I overlooked all the red flags, expecting the game to be different, bigger, better.

And in the end, it wasn’t. Bugs, shallow storytelling, stilted combat, and rough-around-the-edges elements haphazardly thrown together to make a palatable survival/life sim all made it into the game. The demo, in this sense, was accurate. The game was a disappointment, and I gave up on it much sooner than my initial sense of excitement would suggest.

Since then, I refused (or not allowed myself) to get hyped about something based on a demo. If anything, I’ve been doing a good job of pumping on the brakes and tempering expectations until a game, any game, actually downloads on my PC.

Well, this ends today. We’re about to get unapologetically excited about a game, and I’m going to tell you exactly why this time just might be different.

The beacon lights the way

Demo or no demo, you truly don’t know what you’re going to get with the end product, unless you have something more to go on. For example, the studio’s previous work, the reputation of its developers and writers, or a unique hook for which you’re willing to tolerate imperfections.

Or… all of the above.

Curse of Resthaven is Hilltop Studio’s second game that follows the critically acclaimed and hilariously unhinged Lil’ Guardsman, about which I raved not too long ago on Playing This Week.

Three of the five core team members from Lil’ Guardsman return for Curse of Resthaven: Scott Christian, Game Director; Matt Bernard, Writer & Game Designer; and Adolfo Rico, Programmer & Game Designer. The art team, Clayton Nguyen and Maddy Woodland, is wholly new, bringing the cool-as-heck visual style of the second game to life.

Unlike the lighthearted and mechanically straightforward Lil’ , Curse of Resthaven is dark, grim, and mysterious. It follows Ambrose, a newly minted governor of the far-flung island of Resthaven, a struggling colony of the Empire, and the last known location of Ambrose's niece, Amalia. Ambrose travels to Resthaven to find her, but is greeted with much more than he bargained for: a colony in shambles, a plague spreading, commerce on the brink of collapse, and a murderer (murderers?) on the loose.

Plus, in just a few days after Ambrose's arrival, the world ends. So there is that.

The formula is familiar, and the tropes are well-worn: a remote island, a mysterious plague, a lone newcomer facing a hostile environment. “Well-worn” doesn’t mean bad! I can think of at least a handful of games off the top of my head that use it effectively. Avowed, for one. “Well-worn” does mean big shoes to fill, though.

Besides, the formula doesn’t tell us anything about how it could all play out gameplay-wise. If the above paragraphs were the only thing you heard about Curse of Resthaven, you could imagine it going practically in any direction, from third-person action adventure or even a first-person shooter to a point-and-click puzzle platformer.

And where it does go is unexpected. Here is the demo announcement trailer:

Cards? You see cards, right?

Curse of Resthaven is at once a strategic resource management sim, a horror visual novel, a point-and-click murder mystery, and a, gods forgive me, a roguelite deckbuilder.

Here's Scott Christian, the studio director of Hilltop Studios, describing the game:

Curse of Resthaven is a gothic horror mystery that blends classic narrative adventure gameplay with trading, a touch of colony simulation, and just enough deck-building to keep every expedition interesting. Roguelite progression, time loops, and randomized variables ensure that no two investigations unfold quite the same way, giving the game an unusual amount of replayability for a heavily story-driven experience.

This hodgepodge sounds unlikely. Ambitious. A lot. I was, frankly, a little intimidated as I dug into the demo.

Maybe I am crazy to take this posting

The demo for Curse of Restaven, out today (did you hear me? It's out today!), is a meaty one, offering a well-rounded look at gameplay, a taste of the pacing and the progression without betraying the secrets hiding in the forestal mists of Resthaven.

“Resthaven is a big mystery, so we wanted to give players a satisfying taste of the world without spoiling too much. The demo lets you make meaningful progress, but ultimately sets up the larger mystery you’ll continue exploring in the full game," says Christian.

Right from the start, I felt like all of the game’s mechanics and mysteries were thrown at me at a breakneck pace. The exact balance of tutorials, progression, and time constraints in the demo was something the team debated. “It was definitely a process of balancing competing priorities!” says Christian. “Because the game is systems-heavy, onboarding was one of our biggest challenges. We wanted to properly equip the player, but we also had to keep the demo focused and avoid spending TOO much time tutorializing.”

The first day in Resthaven was admittedly rough (very in-character for Ambrose, I’m sure), but I got the hang of it. As I continued my three-hour-long demo playthrough, somehow, along the way, I bought into it all completely. I was so engrossed that I forgot I was playing a demo.

The stakes were high. The time was short. I clamoured for One. More. Day.

It was Tuesday, the end of the world

The in-game end of the world, while not prominently shown in the trailers, isn't much of a spoiler, as it is the story point that introduces the time loop you have to operate within and the roguelite mechanic you have to contend with. You have to get your bearings, investigate, earn, trade, and invest resources, and do so before the clock runs out and you lose it all…until the next run.

It's a race against time in Resthaven. In more ways than one. You're not just hurtling towards a cataclysm that will reset it all, but you're also limited on time to carry out your duties and fulfill your governor mandates. Trading with overseas ships takes hours; so does interrogating colonists and embarking on expeditions. The latter costs not only time, but money, money that you can only get by selling goods to fickle and temperamental merchants.

You will need a lot of money, because local businesses are struggling and people are hungry. You need to help them upgrade, which will in turn produce better resources to sell to merchants and get more money to support the local economy. (Trickle-down economics aren't real, kids, but Curse of Resthaven makes them work!)

The money loop is also a loop. A clever one, because you can't really hoard and accumulate it indefinitely—it all disappears when the world ends. The pressure to spend was probably the most fun and challenging part for me.

I won't go into detail on how long each loop lasts in the demo, because knowing that beforehand made me brace for it and spoiled the surprise a smidge. Christian says that the time loop duration was a big decision to make. “The biggest design discussion was how to showcase the time loop. We considered a true “Groundhog Day” approach, but that didn’t leave enough room for trading, upgrading, and progression. We eventually landed on a [REDACTED] loop as the best of both worlds: players get to experience the loop and its roguelite mechanics, while still having time to explore and grow.”

I'll say that the demo, a carefully put-together sample of the game that it is, does shorten the time loop to streamline the experience. In fact, time was so short that I'm tempted to replay the demo from start to finish just to see how much better I would do with making different trading choices and selecting different end-of-run boons.

It does feel a bit meta to start from scratch with the prior knowledge that I cannot undo or unsee. But if you think about it, this is exactly what Curse of Resthaven will be asking the player to do. Learn, investigate, fail. Repeat. Learn. Investigate. Fail. Until she fails no more.

Toss a coin to your, er, Governor?

Scott Christian's musical background and composer education shone in Lil’ Guardsman and raised my expectations for the score, sound design, and voice acting in Curse of Resthaven. They had been high in the first place, but what I heard in the demo was nothing short of outstanding.

Voice acting, especially, is a curious thing. When it’s good or great, it blends into the gaming experience while simultaneously holding it together. When it’s bad, that’s all you notice. It sticks out as a sore thumb. Not the case in Curse of Resthaven. Each character is fully voiced, distinct, and natural. You believe their anger, their fear, and their conviction. While the demo does include a fair share of unvoiced dialogue, the full game is going to be fully voice-acted, and it's going to be great, if the demo is any indication.

The sound design does a lot of heavy lifting for the game's atmospheric, moody vibes, ready to spill into creepy territory at any moment.

“Writing horror music has been a really fun challenge,” says Christian. “There are some pretty crunchy, tense cues in the demo, but I’m also leaning heavily on my composition degree to make the world feel like an 18th-century colony. Lots of moody string quartet vibes.”

My favourite part, predictably, was the bard’s performance in The Black Pony Tavern. Don't miss him and agree to listen to him sing—it doesn't pass the time in-game. Even if it did, you wouldn’t regret it. “The Beacon” is such a BANGER. I have its recording obtained through illicit means practically on repeat these days.

And the full game will have more original songs!

"I’m excited that the full game will feature an EP’s worth of tavern songs, around five or six tracks that connect to the story and expand the lore of the island. I’m even thinking ahead to the potential convention implications of having Resthaven bardcore bangers to bring on the road!”

Go be governor somewhere else

When talking to Scott about the demo (OUT TODAY, in case you missed it), I asked him and the Hilltop team to give my readers a few recommendations of media that hit the same notes and vibes as Curse of Resthaven.

Here's what they said:

Clayton Nguyen (Art Director): “If you like Cult of the Lamb, World of Horror, and Pentiment, you’ll love Curse of Resthaven.”

Maddy Woodland (Artist): “If you like Scarlet Hollow, Recettear, and Widow’s Bay (the show), you’ll love Curse of Resthaven!”

Adolfo Rico (Programmer/Tech Director): “Hmm, I think the Ace Attorney series, Potionomics, and Slay the Princess.”

Matt Bernard (Writer/Game Designer): “Am I allowed to say Lil Guardsman’? If you liked Curse of Monkey Island, Mindcop, and Slay The Princess, you’ll love Curse of Resthaven.”

Scott Christian (Game Director): “If you like Disco Elysium (or, if you’re of my vintage, Planescape: Torment), Dredge, and Darkest Dungeon, you’ll probably find a lot to love in Curse of Resthaven.”

Onwards, onwards, ever forward

Judging a game by its demo is risky business.

But you know what? I am going to take my chances with Curse of Resthaven. I’m going to be excessively, unapologetically excited for it to come out. I’m going to be picturing long, dark evenings with a huge mug of tea and Governor Ambrose investigating the eldritch horrors. (Imagine if it comes out right in time for spooky season? How perfect it would be!) Curse of Resthaven in 2026 could be my Blue Prince in 2025, in more ways than one 😏

Because fuck it, for once I don’t want to be a cautiously optimistic cynic. I just want something to look forward to that’s unique, and local, and made with soul. I want to be excited about that with no reservations.

I have fallen in love with less. I have a feeling Curse of Resthaven is going to be so much more.

Download the demo now and wishlist Curse of Resthaven on Steam, PlayStation Store, or Xbox Store.

In the spirit of experimentation and despite the fear of “who the hell would want to read a miscellaneous update”, I’d like to close the loop on a few loose threads I introduced in my writing in the last several weeks.

Full credit for the idea goes to one of my favourite gaming authors on Substack, , who does these sorts of updates weekly (and goes into much greater detail than I am about to). I couldn’t come up with a better title for this post than a variation of Jim’s subheader, either, so thanks a lot for this too.

You should subscribe, if you haven’t already:

I Play Games So You Don't Have To

A newsletter where I summarize the many games I play, discuss them with others, and post essays on related topics.

By Jim Mander

As I said, this is an experiment, and I don’t expect this format to return, unless semi-regular updates on my games in progress and the daily grind of being a games journalist are of interest to readers. If that’s the case for you, please let me know!

I absolutely still owe you all an update on the 12 for 12 challenge—I haven’t given up on it or forgotten.

But first things first…

I finished Esoteric Ebb.

What was off to a rough start quite suddenly turned into a hilarious, fast-paced adventure with barely any drag. I breezed through the last three quarters of the game, ignoring the temptation to savescum and just rolling with the punches, turning my Cleric into an undecided, vaguely tree-hugging goody-two-shoes in the process.

He saved the people and made a friend. He also scored himself three dates with three very, ahem, different ladies. All in all, it took me about 25 hours to accomplish—Esoteric Ebb was the perfect-length experience, which also, incidentally, did much to refresh my memory of DnD rules.

Wonders happen when you give your brain a break.

An absolute recommend.

Titanium Court is taking longer than I would like

On the subject of giving my brain a break, I can only play Titanium Court in short bursts of two hours tops. There is a limit to how much quirkiness I can take at a time, apparently. (My eyes grow physically tired of the game’s visuals and colour palette after a certain point, too.)

Every unsuccessful run, while not demoralizing per se, is discouraging. I know the only way to progress is to keep failing until I succeed, but at this point, I’m not sure how much further I’ll get, especially with all the travel and in-person events looming on the horizon.

It’s a fun game to return to, though. Still in progress.

Gamescom planning continues in due course

My schedule is exactly half-full. It could easily be full-full—there’s definitely no shortage of opportunities falling on my lap—but I’m keeping blocks of time open just in case.

One very cool opportunity, and a very big win for me, is already confirmed and sitting pretty in my schedule. I’d share more, but the whole thing is under embargo until later in August. You will know it when you see it 😉

I have also just confirmed my first paid commission for the expo, which is exciting in its own right. Onwards, to more work!

I made a friend.

This is probably the most important update; the definition of “last but not least.” I’m so glad to have traded the stressful weeks of late June-early July for in-person hangouts with coffee (or wine) in hand.

If you don’t know Iffi yet, you should! Not everyone can be so lucky as to hang out with her IRL, but you can check out her streams sometime: https://www.twitch.tv/iffimoozipan

That’s a wrap on this, admittedly short, update. Content planning never sleeps, so do let me know what you think about the format.

This year, I’m going to be attending Gamescom for the very first time.

Writing last year’s article about FOMO, I had a feeling I wouldn’t need to suffer it for many years in a row, but I also didn’t think the stars would align to allow me to attend so soon after becoming a game journalist.

It’s fun to revisit that essay. In it, I wrote that I would need sponsored content series, coverage assignments, and/or a larger paying audience to justify my attendance.

I’ve got none of that for Gamescom 2026, but I have a good reason to go.

This reason is YOLO.

Just like FOMO, YOLO is good, actually

I’m not sponsored or supported by any brand or studio to travel to Germany. I’m paying my own way, treating this as a long-term investment in the knowledge, contacts, and experience I’d get there.

I will be able to see a lot of games in development that would be inaccessible to me otherwise, to speak with publishers who have been ignoring (or missing) my emails, and to wear the hat of a media professional whose voice and opinion are sought after and wanted, just because.

But most importantly, I’m going because—right now—I can. I’m in good health, and so is my family. I will be on a trip to Europe anyway, making the trek to Cologne easier. I can (sort of) afford it, although it is, of course, still expensive as hell.

I didn’t make it happen all by myself, certainly. MobileSyrup was very gracious in providing me with an editorial letter to help me secure press accreditation. My family will band together in Europe to entertain my young child, while I fly solo to focus on work and networking. I have had several conversations with outlets about potential coverage, so at least one of the conditions I set for myself last year may end up being met.

I’m acutely aware of this multifaceted privilege and determined not to let the opportunity go to waste.

I’m so excited!

What comes next is the practical part of planning my work visit and getting the most out of Gamescom while not burning out. The hard part.

The art of Gamescom scheduling

As a still-green-behind-the-ears journalist at Gamescom, I didn’t expect to be showered in press opportunities—quite the opposite. The only concrete plan I had was to elbow make my way to CD Projekt Red’s booth to check out The Witcher 3: Songs of the Past.

What I didn’t anticipate was something I can only call the Gamescom attendee effect. By sheer fact of my presence on the media list, I have started receiving a slew of clearly targeted emails inviting me to things.

Largely hands-on previews and interview opportunities that didn’t interest me very much, but big names would occasionally pop up among them. Atari. Raw Fury. Daedalic Entertainment. Wanting me to book an appointment. Inviting me to preview their game. Throwing me an afterparty invite.

In addition to that, Bradly, my colleague, friend, and also the most prolific and hardworking journalist I know, has been forwarding me other interesting press-only invites and introducing me to PR people—all to ensure I had things to do at Gamescom.

And things I’ve now got, plenty of them! My schedule is half-full already, while the emails keep coming. Last week’s trickle has now become an avalanche, so I had to get really selective, really fast, and I can only anticipate it all getting worse.

I’ve already had to decline potentially really cool appointments just because they would eat too much into my very limited and thus very precious conference floor time. I’m currently agonizing over accepting/declining a four-hour-long preview of a gorgeous-looking game in a genre I never play. (The invite comes with lunch provided, though, so I’m sure you can see my predicament.)

This is not a complaint, quite the opposite—it’s all mostly a delight. Who would have thought I’d need to be this discerning, this early on, before my first Gamescom? It’s an unexpected time to practice the art of saying “no,” but it’s also a very nice feeling.

Also, being addressed as “esteemed media” in some of these emails? Never gets old.

I think no matter what happens, I will end up having a grand time.

I haven’t been having the time of my life these past several weeks. If you’re wondering if it got better after my brainfoggy Esoteric Ebb piece, lol no, it got worse!

Alternating between baby sickness and my own, juggling family, and dealing with bureaucratic burdens goes down especially hard in the dog days of summer.

All I want to do is write by day, spend time with my daughter and husband after work, and play games by night, while healthy and financially secure, preferably.

Is that too much to ask?

These days, the answer is seemingly yes.

I haven’t made much progress on new games nor developed any cutting-edge ideas to ponder or pitch to my roster of outlets. The fact that it’s okay to take breaks and be ostensibly unproductive doesn’t land.

I’m still playing, of course. In true Katya fashion, I got distracted by a few shiny objects games that were unceremoniously allowed to jump to the top of my queue.

Let me tell you about a handful of them.

1) Titanium Court

Hell yes, let’s throw a highly confusing game at an already highly confused brain and see what happens!

I started AP Thomson’s Titanium Court on a whim a couple of weeks ago and have been delightfully dumbfounded ever since. I haven’t finished it yet; I’m not convinced I will, given my easily distracted nature and the sheer number of games available to me, but I will very much try.

It is the wackiest, funniest shit that I wholeheartedly endorse. The fact that this game was made and published by people who put together press kits like this makes me adore it even more.

I won’t discuss its mechanics much, let alone the plot, because I think you should go into it as blind as possible to guarantee a hollering good time, but I do want to mention one thing. Besides the absurdity of the experience and the humour that lifted my spirits more than I expected, Titanium Court also taught me something about video games.

Many reviews mentioned the game being a match-3 genre, and when I finally looked it up, a lightbulb went off in my head. I enjoy that mechanic and its offshoots, which are probably my favourite ones in mobile time-wasters and old-timey puzzle games, an example of which my Dad used to play quite a lot.

I love learning new things. I also, apparently, love to lead fae into battle.

Match point!

2) Tiny Bookshop

It’s hard to believe that Tiny Bookshop came out almost a year ago—has it been this long? It’s lingered on my radar as a worthy cozy game contender for my time, but I was never fully convinced to pull the plug on it until it came to Game Pass. Yes, the scourge of XBOX strikes again—the developer didn’t get any real money from me playing it, but I also didn’t waste my money, because it took me a while to realize that I wasn’t as interested as I wanted to be.

It’s a cute game with a fresh bookselling mechanic (you don’t actually choose which books you stock, besides their genre) and an extensive storyline with multiple quests and tasks, which, all in all, may take 30+ hours to complete. The NPCs you interact with and the locations you can park your mobile bookshop in provide a lot of variety and keep things interesting during this time.

I enjoyed reading the blurbs about all the actual, real works of fiction and non-fiction featured in the game, and added quite a few to my mental to-read list. That part where I like learning new things? Applies to Tiny Bookshop, too.

The constant struggle for money and the bookshop decorating were the game components that really didn’t resonate with me. I know that lots of players enjoyed the latter, but all the decor necessary to meet various quest requirements ended up looking like clutter in my shop, which I found neither pleasing nor coherent. The item categories, the boosts they supplied, and especially the ways they interacted and cancelled each other out, were so confusing that I don’t think I ever fully grasped them.

The character animations and the art didn’t resonate either. Why do these people all walk so funny? The NPC portraits were cute as heck, though.

Ultimately, I fell off the Tiny Bookshop wagon and didn’t think twice about it.

3) On-Together: Virtual Coworking

Not a game per se, or only nominally a game, On-Together is a productivity/focus tool developed by GigaPuff, “a tiny team of four indie developers who enjoy making games.”

Virtual coworking, a huge thing during COVID, never quite landed with me the way it did with countless others. I’m the weirdo who works in silence, with no music or other ambient noises. I enjoy the change of scenery that working at a café or library provides, but the drive there isn’t for the productivity as much as it is about the exercise of walking there and back. If I try coworking in person with a friend or an acquaintance, I end up socializing instead.

Still, I was intrigued by On-Together, because it looked really cute (sensing a theme here, aren’t we?), and I like gamifying some of my more mundane daily tasks and goals. On me, gamifying works.

Initially, I didn’t find it all that helpful. I created my avatar, launched my own server set to private, walked around my idyllic study island, and settled into focus mode, promptly exiting it some 20 minutes later. The rudimentary productivity tools included in the game, like a pomodoro timer, a to-do list, a task planner, and a journal, didn’t strike my fancy—I have others in place to fulfill these functions—so I didn’t quite know what to do there, and quit.

The endorsements of On-Together by Mothership and Aftermath helped me give it another go. In this currently-very-stressful time of my life, I was looking for some levity in my daily grind, and I figured, perhaps, On-Together would add a little whimsy to my frantic mornings.

I’m writing this post while my avatar is typing away on her pink laptop, with a tiny thunderstorm cloud over her head to supply the rainy soundtrack. The pomodoro timer ticks away, supplying me with tickets, the in-game currency to unlock customization options for outfits and accessories. My sidekick pet is chilling on my head. I’ve even joined someone else’s server and had a brief chat, which gave me a serotonin boost.

It’s all very adorable.

One thing I wish for is more interactivity with the map and the objects around it. Shooting hoops and fishing are currently some of the options, but I wish I could go on scavenger hunts or find collectibles in the wild. That would make the work breaks more fun and give me more reasons to launch On-Together every morning.

My thanks to GigaPuff for providing me with a game key.

I started Esoteric Ebb last week.

Folks, I don’t know if I can do it.

Look, I’m only three hours in, and I can tell it’s a fabulous game. Fa-bu-lous. The writing alone is crazy impressive, giving roleplaying tons of depth and options. Absolutely insane dialogue branching. The discoelysiumesque structure to rolls, the self-deprecating humour, and the melancholy undertones. Or maybe just tones. Anyway.

It’s good, basically.

(Thanks to Raw Fury for providing me with a key—you guys rock, and I love you, keep supporting wacky indie stuff.)

And yet, with every play session, I’m questioning how much longer I can play. How much longer can I withstand the entirely self-inflicted, unimaginable toll the game is taking on my overtired brain?

Choose the timing wisely, for I did not

That one is definitely on me—I chose a very hard week to start Esoteric Ebb. My child was sick and not allowed at daycare to contain a nasty outbreak of a virus that affected her mildly, but put me in the position of a stay-at-home mother for a whole week straight.

It was delightful to hang out with my girl all week, and we had as much of a good time as we could, given she wasn’t feeling the greatest. So no complaints there. But my brain was fried all day, every day.

Obviously, at this point, it would be a terrific idea to start a game that requires a lot of brainpower!

Esoteric Ebb and flow

Here’s how the first few sessions of playing Esoteric Ebb went:

The first time, I had a glass of wine along for a ride. That did numbers on my concentration, despite being a small amount. Not a good sign.

The following evening, I tried again, fully sober, but no less exhausted. No dice. Words, phrases, and choices all blended in together. Neither the Cleric nor I could string two sentences together. I despaired a little more.

A few nights ago, here I finally was: sober, rested after sharing baby-caring duties with my husband on the weekend, ready to take on Esoteric Ebb.

And, spoiler alert, I did better. But not by much.

Brainy games for brainy folks

I knew going in that the game would require a lot of reading. As a roll-based RPG, it relies heavily on explaining dialogue choices and engaging with the lore to roleplay to the full degree. A wall of text is unparalleled in this regard.

Many other games, which I not only enjoyed but joyously finished, were just as, if not more, reading-heavy. The aforementioned Disco Elysium, for one. Roadwarden, while a completely different feel, was all text, no trifling or hand-waving animations included. Citizen Sleeper is all dialogue and lore. Titanium Court, the brilliant indie I’m currently puzzling over, is, too.

It’s not the reading. It’s me.

The writing of Esoteric Ebb is sharp, dense, and central to the action. The dialogues are long. I love all of these things, but they converge at the perfect moment to make my brain resist them all.

My initial, and very pronounced, frustration with the controls that took a while to figure out didn’t help matters, but I overcame that. Mastering the controls usually gets me over the initial hump with hard games. I start having bits and pieces of success here and there, just like in Blasphemous, another video game that made me work.

Once I felt the resistance to gameplay, I eased myself into Esoteric Ebb by walking around, trifling with objects, and beholding NPCs (rolling lots of 1s, at that, for some reason). It was awesome, but felt avoidant, like I was procrastinating, dreading heading in, tackling more dialogues. Reading more stuff. Doing more work.

The power, or lack thereof, of the tired brain could not be overcome.

Brainy games for tired folks

So what can I do about it? I’m honestly at a loss.

I’m not going to be less tired in the evenings. I never am. Maybe now that my child is well and back at daycare, I’m a little livelier and able to take on Esoteric Ebb with more energy.

I could also play it in bite-sized pieces during the day, when I’m sharper, but my mind rebels at the idea of disrupting my nightly video game ritual by trying to squeeze play sessions into work hours.

That moment of sinking into my chair, knowing that the baby is asleep, the chores are done, and I have hours of playtime ahead of me, uninterrupted? That’s the best feeling. The hours of evening rest are sacred. Having them be marred by the dread of too much effort just doesn’t sound appealing at the end of the day.

I think it’s great that video games make me work, and it’s refreshing that it’s my brain, rather than my finger dexterity, that’s getting a workout at this time. The problem is that I’m not at the point in my life to get the most out of it. I just want to chill, man.

I don’t need Esoteric Ebb to be less dense, less involved, more dumbed-down. I’m not asking it to change.

So what do I do, game? How do I play you?

Maybe I’ll just give it a bit of time. It worked with Disco Elysium, after all.

Toronto-based Hilltop Studios released Lil’ Guardsman in early 2024, which made a splash, even though I hadn’t been part of the industry then to notice. I saw it plenty at local industry events, noting its catchy art style, and figured it was locally made, but that was the extent of it.

Ironically, I have Hilltop Studios’ second title currently in the works, The Curse of Resthaven, to thank for my interest in them. Check out the demo announcement:

Hype, right?! Hype!

I wanted to get a feel for a Hilltop Studios game while I wait for The Curse of Resthaven to drop, so Scott Christian, the studio’s founder and director, very generously provided me with a Lil’ Guardsman key.

While it helps that the game is currently on sale on Steam for like $5 CAD, and it goes on sale pretty regularly, I can tell you it’s well worth it at full price. Why?

Because Lil’ Guardsman is fucking delightful.

What in the Lil’ Guardsman is this?

At this point, I’m not sure who said it first or if I thought of it by myself independently, but imagine Papers, Please for children (kinda), and that would be a big part of what Lil’ Guardsman is.

You are a girl with a gorgeous mop of burgundy hair, a lovable dad with a gambling problem, and a guardshed you need to (wo)man. Decide who enters the Sprawl, the city-state you call home, and change the course of history in the process. No biggie, right?

Lil’ Guardsman is a mish-mash of puzzle, point-and-click, and narrative adventure that succeeds on… pretty much every level. Its writing is clever, funny, and quick on its feet; the art style is colourful, memorable, and, frankly, adorable; the voice acting is superb, and so is the musical score.

The story has twists and turns I didn't expect. The narration and dialogues break the fourth wall all the time, in moments big and small, which I found very hilarious.

Mechanically, it’s easy to manage—there’s no real pressure to get things done quickly or even get them right the first time. In fact, a big part of the game and what makes it so fun is getting to try again. If you love savescumming, as I do, you will love what you get to do in Lil’ Guardsman.

The humour was definitely what made the game for me. Skimming through the reviews, it wasn’t the case with everyone, which is, of course, normal. I personally just delighted in the constant wink-winks, references, gaming trope subversions, and endlessly quotable lines.

No matter how big the temptation, I’m not going to share endless screenshots of all the stuff I found funny in the game.

Instead, I’m happy to bring you a short interview with Lil’ Guardsman creators themselves— Scott Christian, Hilltop Studios’ founder and narrative director, Jeremy Lapalme, writer, and Matt Bernard, writer.

I wanted to hear about their favourite moments and their take on what makes the game so special. Here’s what they had to say!

A Lil’ interview with Hilltop Studios

What are the origins of Lil and the Sprawl?

Scott: The idea for Lil’ Guardsman was born over a series of very long bike rides during the pandemic. It started as a classic, “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool to make a video game…” conversation between me and the game’s co-creator, Artiom. He’d just become a dad, which helped inspire the father-daughter dynamic between Lil and Hamish.

From the beginning, we knew we wanted the Sprawl to feel like a fantasy world that had somehow collided with 1980s technology. I also had a few big-picture story ideas early on, especially the notion that someone small and seemingly insignificant, a literal kid working a boring gatekeeping job, could end up shaping the fate of an epic fantasy adventure.

From there, my co-writers Matt Bernard, Jeremy Lapalme, and I spent the next two years building out the world and its characters. A surprising amount of that process involved trying to make each other laugh. Many of the game’s strangest characters and funniest moments began as us delighting each other with increasingly ridiculous ideas and then stubbornly refusing to cut them.

How would you describe the game to someone who has never heard of it?

Scott: It’s like a Saturday morning cartoon from my childhood brought to life; one of the weird ones, with a lot of jokes that probably shouldn’t have made it past the censors. Then mash that together with a classic 90s LucasArts adventure game and the deduction-driven puzzle loop of Papers, Please.

Matt: I can’t remember who said it first/where it came from, but LG was once called a “child labour simulator”, and that always made me laugh.

Jeremy: It’s a collection of some of our favourite fantasy pop culture characters and concepts put into a blender. Then you (as a precocious 12-year-old Lil) get to interrogate and make fun of these characters and concepts as you either admit or deny them entrance to your kingdom. Then your choices shape the narrative of what happens and how people interact with you in the future. But mostly parodies of some of our favourite influences.

Who is your favourite NPC and why?

Jeremy: Echo the Wanderer is one of my favourite mashup characters. He is a direct 1:1 ratio of Gandalf from The Lord of the Rings and the Dude from The Big Lebowski. This is the kind of creative and loving spoofing that makes me oh so happy. He also gets to act as a lore master, telling the player more about the world if that’s something you are interested in. And you should be, as it is all fantastical and well thought out and very, very silly.

Matt: My favorite NPC to see come to life was Signor Capello Fantastico. His whole existence is ridiculous. After giving away the most fantastic hat, he’s on a journey to find a new hat of equal (or greater) fantastic-ness. Does he find it? Does he get his own spin-off game? Only time will tell.

Scott: Chloe, the singing psychopath. My background is in music and theatre, so getting to create a demented Disney-style princess was an absolute joy. It didn’t hurt that my wife, Tringa, voices her and absolutely knocked it out of the park. I’m still delighted that Chloe ended up going a little bit viral… there’s apparently a healthy audience for musical numbers sung by unstable Belle from Beauty and the Beast knock-offs.

What’s your favourite joke in the game?

Scott: I specifically hired Matt and Jeremy, who are proper comedy writers, to bring the jokes. I’d say I usually ended up on the more serious or “make-this-somehow-functionally-work-in-the-story” side of things.

But whenever they genuinely laughed at a joke I got in there, it felt like a win!

Jeremy: Lil’s reaction throughout the game show sequence always tickles me. Moments where Lil doubles as the audience who genuinely don’t know what’s going on work so well, and having the 12-year-old girl be so unimpressed and confused by the spectacle is such a great juxtaposition.

The perfect Lil’ indie antidote

I can’t think of anything wrong with Lil’ Guardsman. Every part of it landed just right. Of course, it was the moment when I found it that made it so perfect. As my 007: First Light rebound, it served as the perfect reminder of just how different video games can be, and how great games truly come in all shapes and sizes.

Lil’ Guardsman and Bond couldn’t be more distinct in every possible way.

Both are near flawless.

Get Lil’ Guardsman now on Steam, Nintendo Switch, Xbox, or PlayStation.

Wishlist The Curse of Resthaven on Steam.

Last year, Antonio Miceli had an idea to bring back something he once found very valuable as a game developer. Structured playtesting is a largely unmet need on the indie dev scene, and Miceli’s event, called the G.R.I.D., was meant to fill that gap—even as a one-off.

The 2025 edition was widely successful. 24 games, several dozen eager playtesters, and even more keen media observers who all wondered by the end of it whether the G.R.I.D. would be back.

Fast-forward to now, and the answer is a resounding yes.

You want games? I’ll give you games

Last Friday, June 12, 2026, saw a triumphant return of the G.R.I.D. to the George Brown Waterfront campus.

What was an experiment last year returned this time as a cool, calm, and collected part of Toronto Games Week, complete with an impeccable panel of judges, a hundred playtesters, and a lineup of actual, very neat-looking trophies.

The judging panel was in play last year, too, but this time they were much more prominent in the room, checking out the 36 games present, up from last year’s 24.

Despite the larger number of games and developers in attendance, the playtesting area felt remarkably less hectic (and stuffy). The event’s upped runtime clearly played a part: having five hours instead of meagre three made a big difference for all involved, although it was certainly much more exhausting for the volunteers, the judges, and for Miceli himself.

Out with paper scoring sheets, in with the app

The biggest contributor to the vibe shift was undoubtedly the app that replaced last year’s old-school paper questionnaires.

In preparation for the event, Miceli developed and coded his own custom app called Pulse to facilitate the G.R.ID.’s logistics. Everything from feedback surveys, voting, and raffle entries to game information and profiles was pulled into one interface.

Miceli readily admits that the G.R.I.D.’s success hinged on the app’s performance:

Last year, I was staking [my] reputation on an event that I was a complete unknown about and was just trying to get off the ground. This year, staking my reputation on an app and web ecosystem that I’ve spent the last six months building and using the people as my proverbial QA team, praying that it doesn’t blow up. Because if the app doesn’t work, there is no event.

The app’s performance was inconsistent, but not event-breaking. There were glitches, including on my end, that were completely cured by the good ol’ app reinstall.

As a member of the media, I was excluded from using much of the app’s functionality. Its core functions—game surveys and voting—were reserved for playtesters and judges, and it was obvious that it made their lives much easier than last year.

[For] some people it’s working perfectly, for some people it’s not… My goal for this event was not “perfect”, it was “works just well enough”. By the time I ultimately release this as a paid product, we should not have these problems.

– Antonio Miceli, the G.R.I.D. organizer

I was heartened to hear that Miceli’s hard work was not only for the benefit of the event, but for his own as well. Since his plan is to ultimately commercialize Pulse and release it publicly to aid other event organizers and game developers, I couldn’t think of a better way to battle-test it than at the G.R.I.D, attended by several hundred people.

I loved having it as a simple, handy reference while checking out the games. My plan, as always, was not to interfere with playtesters actually doing their jobs, so I scouted the room for empty seats whenever one popped up, and managed to try a few games, including some that looked very familiar…

The games

From my report last year, you may remember JollyRoll by Sugamu Studio, which was tons of fun and looked really polished already. This time, Raheel and Matthew are back in full force with stickers, a Steam page, and big plans to release as soon as next year if they secure the funding they need. The demo now has multiple levels, a gorgeous overworld map you can zoom about, and a more fleshed-out soundtrack and audio.

I checked out After Angel by Comfort Games, the beginnings of an action adventure that looked a tad early-stages visually, but pulled off fluid movement and smooth traversal. After Angel is going to be interesting to follow, especially considering it’s all coded by a solo developer!

Another silly game I very much enjoyed, whose concept I won’t divulge but which made me chuckle all the way through, is Hello, Cave Monster by Computechnosoft. Dante Camarena, the lead developer of my beloved North Shore, is involved with the project, which, I feel, is enough of an endorsement to get you all excited for the game’s eventual release… whenever that may be.

I also played Gladiotron (yes, Gladiator + Tron) by Full Circle CS Inc, a 3D metroidvania whose arena battles gave me a taste of bullet hell, and Marco Polo, a charming and very creative two-player co-operative game by Overnight Games that adults and kids alike would adore.

The awards

Marco Polo ended up winning the Industry’s Choice award of the evening. Khaos Keys by Qwqsoft and Chicken Scratch by Keely Brown and Mat Belanger won the second and third places, respectively. JollyRoll snagged an honourable mention from the judges, finishing in the fourth spot.

The final award of the evening was, of course, the People’s Choice, where JollyRoll, “always a bridesmaid, never the bride'‘, the way Miceli put it, finally won the much-deserved top honours.

Knightsaber by A Game by Shane took second place, while the third place was a tie between Taisei’s Angels of Battle and Alex Eckardt Games’s Soulflame. (Yes, an extra trophy will be made to account for the tie!)

The future

The G.R.I.D. wrapped up with much fanfare and comfortably on time. I expect great things from it in 2027.

Miceli is cautious, but excited:

Listen, I would love to be back. I said I would love to last year, and here we are! And the reason I came back was because a lot of people asked for it, and I have a feeling a lot of people are going to be asking for it again. It’s an iterative process.

Congratulations to all involved!

The title is a slightly disingenuous riff, since 007: First Light is the only dinner jacket, I mean, Bond game, I have ever known. It was a Christmas gift. The only reason why it was even on my wishlist was that, well, it’s a triple-A title and it's Bond.

I have little interest in third-person action shooter games and am not very skilled at them for obvious reasons. I haven’t played any Hitman games either, so while everyone and their mom was generally optimistic about IO Interactive’s latest prior to the May 27th release, I had little reference and cultural knowledge surrounding it to judge its success or failure.

Until I played the game, that is.

What you’re about to read isn’t even remotely objective, as much as games writing can be objective, in any case. It’s an impression of 007: First Light formed in a near-vacuum, based only on my love for Bond movies and my ever-growing appreciation for video games as the ultimate form of entertainment.

Movies to watch…

Let’s talk about the movies first. I’m a pretty casual Bond fan. I haven't read the books, even though I have the full collection. Some of the movies I haven’t revisited in decades, while others I rewatch with some regularity, the Daniel Craig era ones in particular, who is my Bond and always will be.

I love the Bond films for the ultimate action hero fantasy of them all. For over-the-top action, for the humour and the quips. For the romance, too. While I’ve grown to see the misogynistic toxicity of some of the earlier Bond films for what it is, the latest films swing squarely and pleasingly in the opposite direction. Craig films have some of my favourite portrayals of seduction, imbued with agency on both sides that I find very erotic.

Bond films are a great escape. One of the greatest in the genre, I'd argue.

So what would happen if the essence of what makes these movies great were superimposed with the medium of video games to allow you not just to witness the ultimate fantasy, but to touch it, to live it? That’s what 007: First Light manages to pull off, and effortlessly at that. A colleague called it a playable Bond film, and I concur—this is exactly what 007: First Light is and what makes it work.

… and movies to play

There is tension between the movie and the video game elements that make it happen, though. (Let’s get bad, or “bad”, out of the way before I start gushing about the good.)

While playing 007: First Light, I kept thinking: were this game anything but a Bond game, set in the familiar universe I love, it would be nowhere near as interesting and satisfying an experience. Its action components are solid and would still make for a fun experience with all of its stealth, combat, gunfights, and car chases, but mechanically, it can get a bit… stiff?

The progression in action sequences is so bite-sized that every mission feels like a series of vignettes. Here you are in an open area looking for clues to get past the sentries. Here you are in a tight room with lots of cover to stealth around a handful of enemies. Here you are in a basement full of thugs that you need to shoot while not getting shot yourself. Here you are walking in a hallway. Every door you pass through wipes the slate clean. There is no chase; there is no danger; the vignette is over; onto the next one, please.

It's not bad per se, but abrupt enough to be noticeable even to a novice player like me, who’s neither very comfortable nor very skilled at third-person action games. For my progression and individual gameplay, it was actually a boon. The game is very forgiving of mistakes and generous with invisible save points. I passed a few sections by the skin of my teeth, sometimes mustering enough luck to power through, sometimes failing right after a save point that got me closer to the proverbial door with my cover intact.

At no point was I ever far from locking in my progress, which considerably lowered my frustration at failing or dying. Before I understood how the game treated progression and what it took to move the story forward, the open combat and gunfight sequences presented a real difficulty for me, especially if they were the result of my blowing my cover.

The thing is, I rushed and got gunned down because I wanted to play the way Bond would act in the movies—decisively, aggressively, efficiently. That I eventually had to adjust and slow down in the game is secondary. The game does such a great job of immersing you in the atmosphere and the universe that the high-octane action is irresistible, even if you don’t have the gaming skills to match.

Because it’s Bond, stupid

IO Interactive took the ingredients that make the Bond movies so fun and successfully pulled off just the right combination of them all for a winning recipe. I cannot succinctly describe the ingredient ratios, but I feel the recipe's success very viscerally.

I was squealing with delight and yelling at my screen through the first couple of missions, happy as a clam to be puppeteering a young action hero whose absurd shenanigans and improbable feats grew more and more Bond-like as the game progressed.

The long-forgotten thrill of a Bond movie on the big screen came rushing back to me. In 3D. No longer could I only witness it passively as a linear experience—I could live it in the most video gamey way possible. The IOI writers threw everything from exotic locales to highly improbable stunts and just over-the-top action sequences at the player. The Q gadgets, the cars, the Bond girls, the explosions, the quips, the tragic moments, the villains—it’s all there, in a chaos that the linearity of the game serves perfectly to contain and keep on rails despite giving the player the freedom to approach many a section as they please.

I loved all the clever little references to Bond films, the names for achievements, and the easter eggs that could be discovered during limited exploration. I drank in all the environments, the gorgeous setpieces, the superbly acted dialogue and banter, and the story’s jab at blind trust people put into LLMs/genAI.

I also couldn’t get enough of Patrick Gibson’s James Bond. His portrayal of soon-to-be-007 is what I want Bond to be in 2026. He hit all the notes of self-assured, emotionally intelligent, increasingly competent, and still very interested in women, not only (and not just) as sex objects, but as sparring partners and friends as well. Unlike many, I thought his monologuing and one-liners were funny and in-character, adding levity to situations that I, as a player, found stressful. He was a joy; playing as him was one hell of a feeling.

This never happened to the other fellow

I hear the Uncharted and Hitman comparisons that swing in both directions. I’m not dismissing them, but I’m not equipped to comment, having never played these games. I can see how, for more experienced players looking for more challenge, some (many?) parts of 007: First Light would feel too easy and perhaps too boring. This is fair.

Ultimately, the whole shebang worked really, really well for me. The nagging feeling that, should the Bond wrapping be stripped away, this video game would feel a tad too generic action was merely a blemish on my enjoyment. It was just the right level of challenge to get what I wanted out of the game.

And what I wanted was to live in the Bond universe and feel like a badass, indestructible, suave spy, and I got that feeling in spades.

What a time to love video games.

10/10.

As is tradition, XP Game Summit 2026 opened with the Indie Pitch Competition, which happens to be one of my favourite parts of all XP Gaming events.

Indie Pitch Competition is a fun showcase of select indie games currently in development. It’s often the very first time the games are presented publicly, so there is a sense of exclusivity and getting a sneak peek, for real.

For developers themselves, it’s also a precious opportunity to practice pitching their project in front of judges and answering their sometimes tough questions on the fly. Each pitch presentation is limited to 5 minutes, and yes, it is very much timed!

Overall, it’s an extremely audience- and press-friendly event that combines the thrill of game reveals with the business-focused discussion of the costs and challenges of making and selling a game.

The XP26 edition of the Indie Pitch consisted of a wholly Canadian (mostly Torontonian!) roundup of games, and I’m excited to bring you the report on all five of these very varied titles.

Get your backlogs ready.

Black Tides: Draga’s Wake

Developer: Strange Creature Factory, Halifax, NS

Target release date: Q4 2028

Target price: $45 USD

The opening pitch impressed me with its polished, cinematic teaser of a “maritime horror” third-person action game taking place on a haunted ship. A horror-thriller brawler-type isn’t typically my kind of game, but I was more intrigued after seeing some gameplay.

It’s neither wise nor fair to judge based on a couple of seconds alone, but if it pans out for Strange Creature Factory, they have a shot at making an awesome-looking AA title that I wouldn't hesitate to play, even if I'll be scared the whole time.

Crown Slayers

Developer: Ocean Mouse Studio, Toronto, ON

Steam page

Target release: Q4 2028

Target price: $15 USD

I usually check out and fall asleep at the mere mention of “roguelike deckbuilders”, and I'm afraid that Crown Slayers is no exception. Positioned as a turn-based roguelike RPG, the game is inspired by Slay the Spire and centers on two princes battling for the throne across space and time, at the same time.

I'm a little fuzzy on the mechanics of managing two card battles with shared skills and resources simultaneously, and the teaser didn’t help me much. The roguelike aspect seems to be that the decisions and outcomes of both (one in the past and one in the future) have implications for future runs.

The judges had questions about the game’s differentiators in a very crowded and competitive genre. I’ve got the same concerns. I thought the game looked pretty cool, but I’m not likely to play it. No roguelikes here.

Life of Sky

Developer: City From Naught, Toronto, ON

Target release: Q4 2027

Target price: “premium game”

What if a cozy building and decorating sim, but it’s a… cat? On a raft?

City From Naught is taking your cat and making it a protagonist in the colourful, cozy world of deep blue oceans, clear skies, and tropical islands. Throw in an animal companion crew, random encounters with players around the world, a friend co-op, and the ultimate quest of reuniting the cat with its human in-game, and you’ve got a curious and unlikely mix of Sea of Thieves and Animal Crossing. It’s bold and absurd, and I like it.

I rolled my eyes at the mention of AI technology to customize the in-game appearance of the titular cat based on an uploaded image of an animal. (That’s what I meant by the developers “taking your cat.”) I can see it being a touching feature, especially for players whose pets passed on, but I still hope the AI part would be optional.

I think I'm largely through my “cozy games as the only source of entertainment" stage, but I wish Life of Sky all the luck. They definitely know their target audience and have all the ingredients to make their recipe a success.

ROSETIA: A First Contact Simulation

Developer: Redshift Panda, Toronto, ON

Steam page

Target release: Q2 2028

Target price: TBD

ROSETIA is a “first-contact RPG” where you represent humanity―the good, the bad, and the ugly. Unlike in many other narrative RPGs, the goal isn’t necessarily to dominate the alien society you encounter, but to overcome your differences, make choices, and live with the consequences. Thea Juneau, the creative director of Redshift Panda presenting the pitch, put it this way: “Success isn’t what you choose but how well you defend it.”

Redshift Panda absolutely aced understanding their audience. That, apparently, included me. I have never, and I mean never, heard a pitch so perfectly tailored to my interests, sensibilities, and gaming habits. I was sold by minute three; seeing Citizen Sleeper and Roadwarden on the pitch deck slides for market analysis and inspiration just sealed the deal for me.

The fact that the judges didn't see it my way and, in fact, were the most critical of the presentation compared to all others, made it stand out that much more. Redshift Panda crafted the pitch for those who mattered―the “narrative RPG loyalists”―and ignored everyone else. And rightfully so. It must have been hard on Juneau to stand in front of the audience who mostly weren't that, so I made it a point to track her down on the conference floor (on Day 2, too) to tell her that she fucking nailed it.

I’ll be sure to learn more about the studio and the game in the coming months.

Twins of Olus

Developer: Team Verdant, Toronto, ON

Steam page

Demo

Target release: Q2 2027

Target price: $20 CAD

Twins of Olus is a cooperative hack-and-slash adventure that can be played solo or with a friend in couch co-op. Many of its assets are hand-crafted, and the whole game is proudly made with zero use of generative AI. With its recently released demo and a fairly conservative release date of mid-next year, the game is progressing nicely, and I’m delighted for it.

I have a soft spot for Twins of Olus, you see, because its demo was the very first game I played at XP Game Summit last year. It was gorgeous then, and it’s even more beautiful now! I was happy to hear that they were chosen for the Indie Pitch this time, and I hope the publicity will give them a boost to release when they are planning to.

The judges were sceptical about the game looking like a generic action-adventure with few differentiators, but I’m excited to check it out when the time comes. The full release is slated for PC, Xbox, PS5, and Switch… although possibly not all at the same time.

And with that, that was a wrap on the Indie Pitch Competition! Can you guess which game won?

What was supposed to be a bombshell reveal on yesterday's REDstream celebrating the 10th anniversary of Blood and Wine DLC ended up taking my world by storm a day early.

On Wednesday, I woke up to the glorious news of another full-fledged expansion for The Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt coming to PC, PlayStation 5, and Xbox X/S in 2027. CD Project RED had accidentally announced it on RED Launcher ahead of schedule, and so had no choice but to confirm it in due course:

My corner of the internet lost its shit, and I with it. Since The Witcher trilogy was, is, and will always be my GOAT, I scrolled frantically to see if anything else about the expansion was shared.

The details are scarce so far, but yesterday’s stream, while focusing on Blood and Wine, did culminate in a short Q&A about the third expansion that gave away a few important details.

I’m here to summarize it for you all in one place.

What we know about The Witcher 3's third expansion

Title: Songs of the Past

Release date: Sometime in 2027

Development: Co-developed with Fool’s Theory, the studio that’s also in charge of the original Witcher remake

Below are additional details straight from yesterday’s REDstream. You can watch the portion of the stream talking about the new expansion and also including a sneak preview of music from Songs of the Past here:

What is Songs of the Past about?

“There are some hints for you waiting on a very important evening of the Witcher lore, Belleteyn night,” says Laura Beitzel, Senior Community & Social Media Manager at CD Project RED. “The Belleteyn celebration that we shared a few weeks ago. So keep looking for clues!”

Here are the social posts in question:

My theory about the new DLC bridging the gap between the stories told in The Witcher 3 and 4 might be correct—Ciri is definitely playing a role here, because… of course.

How big is Songs of the Past going to be?

“Songs of the Past will be aligned with what you’re familiar with, with Blood and Wine, and what you’ve come to experience and expect from us when we do our expansions,” says Beitzel. “It’s an expansion. Let’s make it clear.”

30-40 hours of content confirmed?!

Are there going to be new Gwent cards?

“Witcher 3 equals Gwent. More Gwent coming. Simple as that,” says Amelia Korzycka, Expert Community & Social Media Manager at CD Project Red.

Why does Geralt have a third sword?

“Geralt is holding a sword,” confirms Korzycka, referring to the promo image released on Wednesday. “It’s a very important sword for the story, and you will get to know it once the game is out.”

When do we learn more?

“More information about Songs of the Past will be coming late summer,” says Korzycka. “You will be seeing more of the expansion at Gamescom this year, at the Entertainment area! So if you don’t have plans, now you do.”

As a journalist accredited for Gamescom 2026 in Cologne, with flights and hotel already booked… Indeed, I do, Amelia.

Indeed I do 🐺⚔️

Two major video game industry events hit Toronto like a brick last week, right at the same time. That was by design—the Canadian Game Awards and XP Gaming, the organizer of XP Game Summit in Toronto, are now partners.

Their joint efforts brought the industry together last week in a beautiful yet tiring way. The awards ceremony was sandwiched smack in the middle of a packed two-day conference. There were lulls, and commuting, and different dress codes; drafts to write and stories to pitch; early mornings and late nights.

Above is my polite way of saying the timing was hell for an overachiever like me, who also happens to be a mother of a young child. Still, a part of me enjoyed the punishing schedule! I got so much energy and inspiration from those three days that I’m practically set for the rest of the year, with many more summer events still to come.

Here’s a short recap of both events.

XP Game Summit 2026

That was my second year at XP Game Summit, and boy, what a difference one year makes. XP Game Summit 2025 was my first industry event. I didn’t know anybody, didn’t know what to expect, and arrived wide-eyed and green behind the ears.

This year, I was ready for all of it—for the talks, the Indie Pitch competition, the games showcase floor, old friends, new acquaintances, networking, and drinks.

This year also marks the fifth anniversary of the Toronto conference. Even compared to last year, it has come a long way. The programming and the speaker lineup were just as packed as ever. The opening ceremony featured an absolutely gorgeous cinematic with this year’s speaker lineup, designed by the magicians at Soft Rains, the studio that made Ambrosia Sky: Act One:

In two days, I attended several panels on game funding, financing, and the state of the Canadian game industry, caught a fascinating talk about designing cauldrons in Horizon Forbidden West, and, of course, was an eager audience member for the Indie Pitch competition, on which I will report separately.

My personal highlight of the conference logistics may seem small, and no, I’m not talking about Friday cupcakes in the lobby. I loved the addition of badge ribbons on the conference passes. They told a bit about each attendee and their role in the industry, acted as perfect little ice breakers, and gave bragging rights, too.

I’m keeping mine as a souvenir. Hopefully, the ribbons will come back next year, and I also hope that the “judge” ribbon will find its way back onto my badge, because on Thursday, May 21, it was time for…

The Canadian Game Awards!

On Day One, I left the conference early to get ready for the Canadian Game Awards gala. I was back downtown mere hours later, all dressed up, with husband in tow.

Turns out, we arrived way too early, as the VIP ticket holders didn’t have much to do besides drink at a very pricey cash bar or play games at Eh! Showcase—a worthy endeavour that I was too tired to contemplate at that point.

I couldn’t wait for the ceremony, though. Jennifer Hale and Mark Meer, the voice actors for Commander Shepard from the Mass Effect trilogy, were to be the hosts for the evening. It was my first time attending an awards show as a VIP. And, of course, the nominee lineup was great. I couldn’t wait to find out who’d win, especially being on the jury and all.

Spoiler alert: it was a South of Midnight sweep, and I’m delighted for them.

Winners of the Canadian Game Awards 2026

Best Art Direction — South of Midnight, Compulsion Games

Best Game Design — Hell is Us, Rogue Factor

Best Performance — Elias Toufexis, Hell is Us

Best Narrative — South of Midnight, Compulsion Games

Best Soundtrack — South of Midnight, Compulsion Games

Best Audio Design — South of Midnight, Compulsion Games

Best Content Creator — Victor Lucas

Achievement in Accessibility — Assassin’s Creed: Shadows, Ubisoft

Best PC Game — Battlefield 6, Battlefield Studios

Best Console Game — South of Midnight, Compulsion Games

Best VR Game — Elsewhere Electric, Games by Stitch

Best Mobile Game — Rainbow Six Mobile, Ubisoft Montréal

ESAC Fan Choice Award — Lost Records: Bloom & Rage, Don’t Nod Montréal

Community Award — Femme Gaming

Best Indie — Wanderstop, Ivy Road

Game Changer Award — Victor Lucas

Studio of the Year — Compulsion Games

Game of the Year — South of Midnight, Compulsion Games

As a side note, while Wanderstop won Best Indie, the studio that made it, Ivy Road, shuttered earlier this year. (I found it especially bitter and ironic that the nominations for the CGAs were announced on the same day as the Ivy Road’s closure.)

No one came up on stage to claim the award. It broke me, if I’m honest—I’m really hype about the game industry most of the time, especially during major events like XP and the CGAs, but this was a reminder of the industry’s dark side and all the losses and challenges we have had and continue to have.

Aside from that, the mood on stage was jubilant. Victor Lucas, the host of the iconic show Electric Playground, was the recipient of the inaugural Game Changer award and gave a very touching speech following a no less touching tribute video.

There were a few game trailer premieres (“First Look”) and reveals. Last but not least, Hale and Meer killed it as hosts—they were funny, quick on their feet, and very personable.

The evening was truly a celebration of Canadian video games, and not just their past and present, but the future, too. Despite the tiredness, I was so glad to be a part of it.

Next year, I’ll just take a longer nap before the gala.