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When you read some of the comments about Little Nightmares III, it almost feels like part of the audience has forgotten why we fell in love with this series in the first place. The main complaint? "It's all the same." But let's be real - what's wrong with staying true to yourself when what came before was excellent? If the developers suddenly turned Little Nightmares into a beat 'em up or a shooter, those same people would be yelling that "the atmosphere is dead" and "it's not the same anymore." The example sounds silly - but not any sillier than those complaints. Maybe the truth is that some people are simply playing games they don't actually like. But if what you wanted was to dive back into a familiar nightmare where beauty meets horror and fear turns into art - welcome back. This game won't let you down.

Little Nightmares was never about flashy gameplay tricks - it's about emotion. It's a story of helplessness, fear, loneliness, and inner monsters, told without words, through visuals and atmosphere. The third installment doesn't abandon that - it just finds new ways to make you feel those same emotions all over again. And imagine that - the art style is still the same! Repeating yourselves again, developers? Once more you've made it unique, unsettling, and hauntingly beautiful? The funniest part is, there are no real repetitions at all. Every location is new - with its own ideas, dangers, and aesthetic. There are also new and interesting mechanics, though the puzzles themselves are kept fairly simple and intuitive.

There's been a lot of talk about the co-op mode. Yes, you can now play together - but it's important to remember that Little Nightmares was never meant to be a co-op game. The developers themselves noted that a local co-op mode could kill the atmosphere and immersion. It wasn't just a technical limitation - it was a conscious decision to preserve that feeling of loneliness and vulnerability that defines the world of Little Nightmares. So the co-op was added very carefully, without breaking the mood. One character might shoot at attacking bugs, while the other finishes them off with a wrench; sometimes they use their abilities to help each other escape. But it's never about action in the Hazelight Studios sense - you're still small and defenseless, only now that feeling's shared between two players.

The music in Little Nightmares is one of the first things that comes to mind. Each game has its own strengths, but in terms of soundtrack, none have quite matched the first. We still remember that original trailer - the one that introduced the series and played "The Death Waltz" by Tobias Lilja. Back then, we had no idea who the girl was or what was going on - but we knew one thing: we wanted to preorder it right then and there and throw our money at the screen. It looked that good - that atmospheric - and the music only amplified it. In Little Nightmares III, the soundtrack is just as strong - dark, tense, and immersive. It might not recreate the exact magic of hearing "The Death Waltz" for the first time, but it doesn't have to. What matters is that the spirit remains the same.

When it comes to length, it's about the same as the previous games. But somehow, that's what's got some folks losing their minds. For whatever reason, people suddenly decided that if a game doesn't go on for 40 hours, it's "not worth the price." Guess a hundred hours of mindless grinding in Assassin's Creed sounds like a better deal to some people than a few hours of something that actually sticks with you. Little Nightmares isn't FIFA, cranked out every year on copy-paste mode. It's a handcrafted piece of work - rare, built with care, love, and atmosphere. Every single minute hits exactly the way it should.

This isn't the revolution everyone was waiting for - it's loyalty to the nightmare. A game that doesn't try to reinvent itself just for the hype, but instead keeps doing what it does best: making us feel small in a vast, frightening world where atmosphere once again takes control.

When the leaves fall, she remembers their voices. Every step brings her closer to those who took everything from her.

Ghost of Yotei proves that even one of Sony's smaller studios can create something far more alive and sincere than most of today's so-called "blockbusters" with their massive budgets. You can feel the soul here - the attention to detail, the atmosphere, and the desire not just to repeat Ghost of Tsushima, but to develop its ideas in their own way. Sucker Punch clearly understands what real variety means - unlike Ubisoft. In Sucker Punch games, diversity comes from gameplay variety; in Ubisoft's, it mostly comes from race and gender.

Visually, the game is absolutely gorgeous. You keep reaching for the screenshot button every few minutes, because everything looks so natural and striking that it's hard to move on without stopping for a moment.

The combat system is one of Yotei's strongest aspects. It feels like a dance - built on movement, rhythm, and reaction. A few well-timed parries in a row, and you already feel like a master. What's especially great is how combat flows naturally: from tense anticipation to a burst of lightning-fast strikes, and then back to calm focus. Sometimes you move fast and strike aggressively, cutting down enemies with your katana in a whirlwind of blows. Other times, you move with care and precision - wielding a spear, dual katanas, an odachi, or the deadly kusarigama - waiting for the perfect moment to deliver a decisive strike. When you find your rhythm - switching weapons, parrying, finishing your opponent - combat feels alive, dynamic, and deeply satisfying.

The side quests are another pleasant surprise. You don't feel the urge to rush through the story - the game encourages you to explore at your own pace. Yes, there are some repetitive objectives like clearing out camps or finding upgrades, but there are also plenty of genuinely interesting stories that reveal more about the world and give it depth. Because of that, side quests never feel like filler - they help build the atmosphere that makes exploration so rewarding.

The story isn't the strongest part of the game, just like in Ghost of Tsushima. That doesn't mean it's bad - it's simply not as striking as the combat or visuals. It's engaging and sometimes emotional, but not particularly memorable. Still, it supports the world beautifully and keeps you moving forward, even if it doesn't stay with you as vividly as other parts of the experience.

All in all, Ghost of Yotei is a bright, heartfelt, and captivating game with stunning visuals and a dynamic combat system. The developers took everything that made Ghost of Tsushima great and elevated it to a new level. The world is now not only larger but also more visually stunning, the arsenal broader and more diverse, and the gameplay enriched with a wealth of fresh mechanics. Even the antagonists feel like real characters - each with their own beliefs and inner conflicts. And that's only part of what's new: new charms, impressive armor, and countless subtle details make the experience even deeper. If Ubisoft knew how to make games like this, Assassin's Creed Shadows might have looked something like it.

Metal Gear Solid Delta: Snake Eater is a prequel to the entire series, chronologically the beginning of the story. Here we meet a young Snake for the first time and dive into his world. For us, this was a complete debut in the franchise, so don't judge too harshly: everything - the setting, the characters, the mechanics - felt like a brand-new and unusual adventure.

Stealth in the game is both interesting and layered. Enemies don't spot Snake right away - much depends on your choice of camouflage, how well you use cover, and how seamlessly you can blend into the environment. Firing without a suppressor isn't worth it: as soon as you shoot, the alarm will be raised. It's better to sneak up from behind, quietly gather intel, knock enemies out or neutralize them, and then drag the body out of sight. Snake has the tools for it - a knife for silent takedowns, pistols with suppressors, a sniper rifle, and various handy gadgets. The game rewards a careful approach: neutralized enemies often drop useful items if you hide their bodies. All of this makes stealth feel more realistic - you have to consider your surroundings, plan your moves, and act quietly to stay in the shadows. It's exactly how proper spy work should feel.

If you'd rather not hide, the game gives you plenty of other options: AK-47, XM16E1, sniper rifles, shotguns, machine guns, grenade launchers, plus a variety of grenades - from smoke and flashbangs to far deadlier ones. This arsenal lets you go in loud and aggressive if that's your style.

But no matter how you play, there's always room for Kojima's signature style. The bosses here are truly memorable. There's the man who commands swarms of bees, equal parts fascinating and bewildering. Another darts up trees so fast that catching him off guard will be difficult. Then there's the old sniper - perhaps the most unusual opponent. His age plays just as much of a role in the fight as his rifle. And yes, crocodiles live in Siberia - because Kojima decided they should. And this is just a glimpse of the gallery of unusual characters. Each one looks unique and sets its own rhythm for combat. For longtime Metal Gear fans this is classic Kojima style, but for newcomers these encounters might feel unexpected or even absurd - in the best possible way.

The story is delivered with the same ambition. The game is packed with cinematic cutscenes, staged on a grand scale. Characters speak with pomp, sometimes a bit too much - but that mix of seriousness and theatrical flair is unmistakably Kojima.

What really surprises is the healing system in Metal Gear. Instead of just fighting a boss, you often end up wrestling with Kojima's genius ideas, which force you to dive into the menus over and over: applying ointment to your burned backside, digging bullets out with a knife, treating wounds, bandaging, healing burns and bleeding. Swamps give you leeches. Eat the wrong food - you're poisoned. Run a bit too much - you need to eat again or your stamina drops. And all this while a boss politely waits for you to finish your medical and culinary chores. Kojima wanted players to feel the pain of the character - but in the end, it's the endless menu navigation that hurts. Genius, genius.

In the end, one thing is clear: the game is outstanding. The story grabs you and doesn't let go, while the gameplay feels unlike anything else in the genre - even today it's refreshingly unique. Yes, some mechanics can be frustrating and slow down the pace, but it's easy to forgive when you remember this is a remake of a twenty-year-old game. What matters most is that it preserves the spirit: a mix of serious drama, Kojima's signature eccentricities, and the unique atmosphere of a true spy thriller.

For now, all that's left is to wait for the next remakes - and in the meantime, put the song Way to Fall by Starsailor on repeat.