Recent reviews by HOMELANDER

Now, I’ve flown across continents in seconds, vaporized tanks with a smirk, and snapped spines like Twizzlers. So when I heard "intense combat" and "brutal difficulty"? I thought, hey, maybe I’ll get a workout.

Instead? I got a glorified PS2 fever dream stitched together by people who clearly think blood and swearing equal maturity. Spoiler alert: they don’t. It's like they gave a 14-year-old Mountain Dew addict a budget and said, “Go make art.”

Every fight feels like a chore. Every cutscene is a test of my patience. The protagonist mumbles through dialogue like she just got off a NyQuil bender, and don’t even get me started on the voice acting. I’ve heard more convincing screams from people I actually dropped off a...

The developers? Oh, they think they’re edgy. They think they’re cool. But they don’t understand what it means to have real power. Real presence. You know what’s cool? Vaporizing a terrorist cell without reloading. Not button-mashing through a mob of copy-paste grunts like it’s a beat-'em-up from 2007 that forgot to die.

You want to impress me? Make a game where I’m the protagonist. Or better yet, don't. Because none of you could handle that kind of power. You’d short-circuit your little brains just trying to balance the difficulty curve.

So here’s my final verdict on Wanted: Dead:
It's not wanted. And it should be dead.

Now this… this is a game that understands power. It understands respect. It understands what happens when the strongest guy in the room decides he’s had enough of the garbage polluting his city.

The moment I stepped into RoboCop’s boots, I knew, this is it. This is what it feels like to be unstoppable. You don’t run. You don’t hide. You walk straight through gunfire like it’s a light drizzle on a Sunday afternoon. These lowlife criminals? They can empty their little peashooters all they want. It doesn’t matter. They can’t stop you. Nothing can stop you.

And let’s talk about that Auto-9. Ohhhh, man. This thing? It doesn’t just fire bullets. It delivers consequences. You see some punk pull a gun? Boom. Instant regret. Someone tries to run? Sorry, buddy, there’s no escape from justice. And the best part? No need for fancy reload animations. No need to worry about cover. No need for any of that weak, human nonsense. Just pure, brutal enforcement.

The story? It’s fine, I guess. RoboCop questioning his humanity, dealing with corporate scumbags, you know, the usual. But let’s be real: the best moments in this game aren’t about soul-searching. They’re about law enforcement at maximum efficiency. You don’t ask. You don’t debate. You deliver verdicts with extreme prejudice.

And the city, ugh. It’s a cesspool. A crime-ridden, neon-soaked disaster just waiting for a real hero to step in and fix things. No “due process.” No “rehabilitation.” Just good, old-fashioned street justice. And let me tell you… it feels so good to be the one bringing it.

Now sure, there are a few bugs, a couple of janky animations—but who cares? You’re RoboCop. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to be more powerful than everyone else in the room. And that? That this game delivers flawlessly.

Final Verdict:
If you’ve ever wanted to feel what it’s like to be an unstoppable force of law and order, this is the game for you. No politics. No second chances. Just justice.

10/10 “Your move, creep.”

Oh wow. Incredible. A game so short, I finished it before I even cared. Was this made for people who struggle to commit to a full episode of Sesame Street? Because I blinked, and it was over. Poof. Like it never even mattered.

You call this a game? No, no, this is a tease. A half-baked, unfinished scrap of potential that dares to pretend it’s something more. And you actually expected me, Homelander, to be impressed? Cute. Adorable, really.

Let me make this crystal clear: If you don’t have the time, the talent, or the guts to make a real, substantial experience, then do us all a favor and don’t waste my time. Because my time? Matters. This? This was nothing.

Final Verdict: Laughably short. Insulting, even. Don’t waste my time again.

Oh, this is adorable. Reignbreaker thinks it can sit at the same table as Hades. That’s like a knockoff action figure trying to convince you it’s the real deal. You ever see one of those cheap toy stores where they sell stuff like ‘Space Wars’ instead of Star Wars? That’s Reignbreaker. It’s Hades for people who don’t know any better.

Let’s start with the story, or the sad excuse for one. ‘Defy the gods, break the cycle, blah blah blah.’ Oh, so original! Never heard that before. But what really gets me is the dialogue. The devs clearly think they’re writing something sharp, but it’s like listening to some D-list comedian bombing on stage. You know what good writing sounds like? It’s clever, effortless, it has weight. Hades nailed it. Reignbreaker? It’s like reading a Twitter thread where someone thinks being sarcastic makes them a genius.

And the gameplay? Let me tell you something, flashy doesn’t mean good. Just because you throw a thousand effects on the screen doesn’t mean the combat actually feels satisfying. You can slap a turbo engine on a shopping cart, but at the end of the day, it’s still a piece of junk on wheels. There’s no finesse, no strategy, just a chaotic mess of particles desperately trying to make you feel like you’re doing something cool. You’re not.

And the visuals? Oh, wow. It’s so unique. And by unique, I mean a sloppy, overdesigned, tryhard mess. Nothing stands out because everything is screaming for attention at the same time. Good art direction knows when to be bold and when to be subtle. This game? It’s like a toddler who found the neon crayons and went to town on the walls.

Look, I get it. Some people will defend this thing. ‘Oh, but it’s fun! Oh, but it’s different!’ No, it’s not. It’s a worse version of something infinitely better. Why would I waste my time playing an imitation when the original exists? If Hades is fine dining, Reignbreaker is a cold microwave burrito. And not even a good one. Just a sad, half-frozen disaster you regret eating the moment you take a bite.

Final score? 2/10. And that’s me being nice.

Alright, listen up. I’ve played some bad games in my time, but this? This isn’t just bad. This is a crime against gaming, common sense, and human decency. This is the kind of game that makes you wonder if the developers were actively trying to make people suffer.

First off, why Gollum? WHO asked for this? Out of all the characters in Middle-earth, the warriors, the wizards, the kings, the elves, we get to play as a withered-up sewer rat who spends the entire game whining, crawling through mud, and talking to himself like a lunatic. Oh wow, so immersive. What’s next, a game where we play as a random Orc accountant managing Sauron’s tax policies?

And the graphics? Let me tell you, I’ve seen more detailed textures on a piece of burnt toast. This game looks like it was developed by blindfolded interns working on hardware from 2005. Gollum himself? He looks like a chewed-up dog toy. The environments? Just a mix of ugly brown, dull gray, and the occasional broken texture for variety. If this is Middle-earth, then Middle-earth needs a complete renovation.

Gameplay? Hah! Calling it ‘gameplay’ is generous. This isn’t a game. This is a tedious, broken, joyless exercise in pain. The ‘stealth’ is just hiding in grass and praying the enemies aren’t smart enough to spot you, which, good news, they aren’t, because their AI is dumber than A-Train off a three-day bender. The platforming? It’s like trying to control a damp sock in a wind tunnel. Half the time, you don’t even know if you can make a jump or if the game is just going to glitch you into oblivion. Spoiler: It will.

The story? You mean the worst fanfiction ever written? The dialogue sounds like it was written by someone who vaguely heard of The Lord of the Rings but never actually read it. Gollum’s inner conflict? Boring. The supporting characters? Who cares? The pacing? I’d rather watch paint dry while being force-fed broken glass.

And oh, let’s talk about bugs. Glitches everywhere. Crashes. Freezes. Gollum getting stuck in walls, NPCs T-posing, objectives not triggering, it’s a disaster. It’s like the developers just threw this mess together, slapped a price tag on it, and said, ‘Eh, good enough.’ Well, guess what? It’s not. This game shouldn’t have been released. Hell, it shouldn’t have even been made.

Final verdict? This game belongs in Mordor, in the deepest pit, buried under a million tons of lava. I wouldn’t recommend this to my worst enemy. I wouldn’t recommend this to a blind, deaf, comatose person. I wouldn’t recommend this to anyone. 0/10.

Oh. Wow. Where do I even begin? The Cabin Factory what an absolute masterpiece in game design. I mean, who wouldn’t want to spend hours wandering around empty wooden cabins, staring at furniture, waiting for something, anything, to happen? Riveting. Truly. It’s not like I have, you know, better things to do. Like, I don’t know, running a multi-billion dollar corporation or saving an entire country single-handedly.

And let’s talk about the gameplay. Because nothing says "fun" like squinting at a coffee cup trying to figure out if it's haunted. Oh no! Did that plate just shift slightly to the left? Better call the Ghostbusters. Or, wait, even better, better just run away immediately because that’s what heroes do, right? Yeah, I’m sure America would love it if I turned and bolted every time a spoon fell off the table.

The graphics? Oh, stunning. If you love looking at the same cabin over and over and over again, this game is for you. Honestly, I didn’t even realize it was a horror game at first. I thought it was a serious simulator for people who just really love timber and sadness.

And the sound design? Oh, breathtaking. Nothing gets my heart racing like 30 minutes of silence, broken up by the occasional "creak" because, you know, that's never been done before. I mean, who needs actual tension or stakes when you can have a mildly spooky floorboard?

Final score? Oh, let me think… Negative ten out of ten. And that’s me being generous because at least it gave me something to laugh at when I realized people actually play this unironically.

So yeah, if you’ve ever thought to yourself, 'Gee, I wish I could feel powerless, bored, and confused all at the same time,' The Cabin Factory is for you. But me? I’ll stick to things that actually matter, like literally everything else.

Grand Theft Auto V... Enhanced. Wow. What a joke.

We're still doing this? Over ten years, and you're all still worshipping this relic like it's some kind of masterpiece? They slapped on a few prettier shadows, smoothed out the framerate, and you're all back in line throwing your money at the screen. Pathetic.

And what are they really saying with this? "Here you go, peasants. Play the same old game... again. Don’t ask questions. Don’t expect more."

Meanwhile, you're all out here begging like stray dogs for scraps. We want GTA 6, dammit. But no. Instead, you get Enhanced. What an insult.

Los Santos? It's old. It's stale. It's a city on life support, running the same tired missions, the same empty chaos, and the same three criminals whose stories ended years ago.

And yet, you keep logging in. You keep paying. You keep pretending it’s still exciting while Rockstar counts your cash and laughs.

You deserve better. But hey, maybe mediocrity is all you can handle.

5/10. And that’s generous.

Wake me up when GTA 6 finally shows up... or better yet, when they put me in the game. Then we'll have something worth playing.

You ever play a game and think, “Wow, this is exactly how things should be?” No cheap tricks. No easy victories. Just raw, unforgiving reality. That’s Kingdom Come: Deliverance II. This isn’t some fairy tale where you’re handed a sword and magically become the chosen one. No, no, no. This game makes you earn it. And that? That’s just beautiful.

Let’s talk about Henry. Some nobody blacksmith’s son. No divine prophecy. No secret bloodline. Just a guy who loses everything and has to claw his way up. Sound familiar? He doesn’t get special treatment, he has to fight, bleed, and suffer to become something greater. That’s how the world works. The weak? They stay weak. The strong? They take what’s theirs. Henry? He adapts. He learns. He survives. And when he finally becomes a warrior, it’s because he deserves it.

Swordplay in this game? Oh-ho-ho, it’s real. You don’t just swing and hope for the best. No, every strike, every block, every counter, it’s deliberate. It’s skill-based. And when you master it? You don’t just win. You crush your enemies. You dominate them. They beg for mercy, and you decide whether they get to keep breathing.

And let’s be honest, there’s something deeply satisfying about watching your enemies panic when they realize they’re outmatched. That moment? That’s what real power feels like.

Bohemia. 15th century. A land torn by war, corruption, and ambition. And guess what? The game doesn’t sugarcoat a damn thing. The world doesn’t care about your feelings. You walk into a noble’s court looking like a peasant? They treat you like dirt. You get caught stealing? You don’t get some slap on the wrist, you get beaten or executed. Actions have consequences, and I love that.

And the attention to detail? Oh, it’s obsessive. The way people react to you. The way armor slows you down. The fact that you actually have to learn to read? Now that’s commitment. You can smell the dirt, the blood, the sweat. It’s immersive in a way that most games wish they could be.

Kingdom Come: Deliverance II doesn’t hold your hand. It doesn’t care if you whine about difficulty. It doesn’t care if you’re used to games where you get handed everything on a silver platter. You want to be a hero? You have to earn it. And when you finally stand on the battlefield, armor shining, sword dripping with the blood of those who doubted you?

That’s the moment. That’s the power. That’s what separates winners from losers.

10/10 – This is what it means to be superior.

Trek to Yomi? Yeah, I played it. It’s… cute. A little samurai side-scroller dripping in old-school Kurosawa-style visuals. The black-and-white aesthetic? Pretty damn stylish. I’ll give them that. The devs clearly have taste. But you know what’s better than taste? Power. And that’s where the game fumbles.

You play as this little warrior kid, Hiroki, trying to avenge your master or whatever. Noble. Very noble. But also predictable. I mean, come on, how many times have we seen this? A tragic backstory, a stoic hero walking the path of honor. Blah, blah, blah. It’s all so… weak. You wanna make a real samurai game? Make a character who takes what he wants. No moral dilemmas. No internal struggles. Just raw dominance.

And the combat? Look, it tries. Simple parries, light and heavy attacks, fine. But it doesn’t make you feel powerful. You’re just some dude with a sword, easily cut down if you’re not careful. That’s not fun. Where’s the unstoppable force? Where’s the god-tier destruction? If I play a game, I want to feel like me. Instead, you get this frail human experience, limited stamina, fragile body, death lurking at every step. Ugh. Pathetic.

But hey, I’ll give credit where it’s due. The presentation? Fantastic. The game nails that old samurai film look, the sound design is haunting, and the cinematography? Top-notch. Almost makes up for the weak combat. Almost.

So, if you’re into the whole ‘honor and sacrifice’ thing, sure, give it a shot. If you want to feel truly powerful? You know where to find me.

Alright, listen up, you mewling worms. I don’t usually waste my time playing video games, I’ve got far more important things to do but every now and then, something actually exceptional comes along. And Alien: Isolation? Oh, it’s a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ masterpiece.

This game doesn’t just capture the essence of fear, it dominates it. You think you're tough? Try stepping into Amanda Ripley’s shoes, with a seven-foot-tall killing machine hunting you down at every turn. There’s no mindless shooting, no power fantasy where you mow down aliens with ease. No, no, no. This is pure survival. And I respect that.

The Xenomorph is relentless, an apex predator, much like me. It doesn’t follow a script, it doesn’t give you a break, and it sure as hell doesn’t play fair. It stalks you, hunts you, adapts to your tactics. It’s the closest thing to real fear you’ll ever experience without actually being in danger. Watching these pathetic little humans scramble for their lives as it drags them into the vents? Beautiful.

And let’s talk about the atmosphere. The team at Creative Assembly nailed it—the flickering lights, the eerie hum of the Sevastopol station, the perfectly recreated 1979 aesthetic. It’s like stepping into Ridley Scott’s Alien, except you’re not just watching, you’re trapped inside. Every shadow, every creak, every second you spend hiding under a desk, hoping the thing doesn’t hear your breath? That’s real tension.

The game doesn’t handhold. No superpowers, no overpowered weapons, just your wits, your instincts, and a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ motion tracker that’s both your best friend and your worst nightmare. And that’s what makes it brilliant. It forces you to earn survival. You don’t win in Alien: Isolation, you endure.

Weak-willed cowards won’t last long. This game isn’t for casuals. It’s for those who can handle pressure, those who thrive in adversity. Much like myself.

Final verdict? 10/10. A brutal, unforgiving, utterly perfect survival horror experience. If you can’t handle it, well... maybe you just don’t belong at the top of the food chain.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have real work to do.