It's fitting, if a little tragic, that Burial at Sea - Episode 2 brings both the BioShock property and Irrational Games altogether to a close.

From the start, this DLC episode shows more outright moxie than its lackadaisical predecessor. Where Episode 1 made some effort to show off a new way of playing BioShock, with more ammunition discipline and more deliberate encounter tactics, Episode 2 gives you no choice but to learn to be much, much more careful. Elizabeth can't take much punishment, nor can she wreak havoc with heavy armaments; instead she's reliant on stealth takedowns, silent knock-out bolts, or even more ideally, sneaking around to avoid combat entirely.

It's a genuinely refreshing take on the rote run-and-gun gameplay that BioShock Infinite previously espoused, and it's impressively executed in this episode, complete with enemy "alert" meters and stealth-unfriendly traps (walking through water or glass shards will rouse the suspicion of nearby enemies!). Although the lock-picking minigame is disappointingly simple - I still miss the original BioShock's pipe-hacking puzzles - this is otherwise as good of a game as the franchise has ever seen.

But what makes Episode 2 really commendable, and what even manages to redeem the stupefying cliffhanger ending of Episode 1, is its story. This episode does a fantastic job of building on the narrative links between Rapture and Columbia, and really adds to the BioShock and Infinite stories in meaningful ways. Rather than just connecting some dots, it composes new lore that's truly fascinating in both worlds. And all the while, the storytelling's focus on building Elizabeth's character goes well beyond what we saw in Infinite, to a place just brimming with pathos.

It all builds to an ending that, while not as dramatic a crescendo as Infinite's final scenes, is still very powerful and memorable. Like the series' greatest moments, it's not just clever fiction, but is told in a convincingly human way.

And this, ultimately, is what I like to believe serves as a fitting metaphor for Ken Levine's BioShock adventure. Through high expectations and external pressures, through the slings and arrows of the industry and workplace, and through the ambitions and downfalls of ego, BioShock tried to do what it thought best -- and put forth its best effort in doing so. No struggle is without bloodshed, and no victory is without tarnish, but it deserves to be proud of what it's accomplished.

Better than: BioShock Infinite: Burial at Sea - Episode 1
Not as good as: BioShock Infinite
So: ... what's next?

Almost two years after its release, Diablo III finally became the game it really should have been. But it still hasn't become the game that "Diablo II's sequel" should have been -- and it probably never will.

The Loot 2.0 update addresses pretty much every itemization complaint that could have been lodged against the game: where previously, Diablo III's off-class and trashy drops felt designed to push you to the auction house, now the game rewards you for playing it. Fancy that, right? Diablo III now goes to great lengths to give you items you want, not just stuff that boosts the stats you need, but really good stuff, and even more Legendary-tier drops than before. It's the rolling gameplay incentive that Diablo III always needed, keeping you interested even when customizing your skill loadout is no longer fresh and new.

The itemization refresh breathes new life into the game, and I was astonished at how much fun I had coming back to it; especially when I compared my new drops to the "good" items I'd previously stashed, and saw just how much better items have become. But for all that this has done to enhance the moment-to-moment gameplay, there is still something wrong. Not that I expected this to change, but, the narrative - the storyline, the dialog and cutscenes, the scenarios and worlds - is still lacking.

Diablo II's world was staggering in comparison to Diablo's, replacing a handful of imaginatively-designed dungeon and cavern levels with vast and varied environs. Circa 2000, the green fields, dank catacombs, harsh deserts, dark tombs, ... fucking terrible jungles, molten hellscapes, and snowy mountain passes -- all of these were captivating, surprising environments. It still feels like such a tragedy that Diablo III ended up recycling almost all of this, making only the most minor of tweaks to Diablo II's fresh world design.

And the fact that the plot is totally fucking stupid is still impossible to ignore. Even when skipping cinematics and story scenes, the game's dumb characters are irritatingly aggressive at showing off how silly the story is.

There's no question that Diablo III is better than it was. And now, I could really see myself coming back to play this game again and again, continuing to wring fun out of fighting demons and collecting loot. But ... man. It's still not as epic as I really wanted.

Better than: It was.
Not as good as: I really want another Diablo to be.
As for Reaper of Souls: Maybe when it's less expensive.

Progress: Made a new Wizard, Level 38.

You can play Broforce alone, or with friends -- and although the co-op mode can be fun for a few minutes, the impossible-to-parse chaos quickly drains its entertainment value. Alone, though, the game's charming mechanics really have an opportunity to shine.

At its heart, Broforce is a run-and-gun action game, like Contra or Metal Slug, but faster: you can die in an instant, and a large number of things on the map are liable to explode at any moment (but you also respawn quickly, so it's usually no big deal). One of the things that makes it really unique is the destructible terrain, so as you shoot your way through the level, craters form and structures deteriorate.

You can use this destructibility as a strategic advantage, e.g. sneaking into a closed room by tunneling in from the back, or blowing up a load-bearing column to take out enemies above. Think, a two-dimensional Red Faction. Yeah, that's pretty awesome.

Another of Broforce's distinct characteristics is the "Bro" force itself: a cast of movie-inspired action heroes, each with unique abilities and weapons. One moment you'll be playing as a Blade knockoff, another as Ash from Evil Dead, and you might just switch from Commando-era Arnold to Terminator-era Arnold.

That "switch" is out of your control, and here's where it gets really fascinating. At first, you'll lament the fact that your character is randomly chosen, both at the beginning of the stage and when you respawn; and when you rescue hostages throughout the level, these, too will cause your character to randomly change. "Shit!" you'll utter, as your high-volume machine gun gets replaced with a short-range dynamite throw. It becomes impossible to approach a level with any intentional tactic.

But after a while, you'll realize that this isn't the point of Broforce. By forcing you to try different Bros with different abilities, the game is showing off its greatest strength: its varied and diverse sense of destruction. Getting too accustomed to one character or another would just make the gameplay tedious -- instead, you're forced to adapt to wildly different movement and attack strategies on the fly. Rapidly switching you to new characters, without your explicit control, ends up being a stroke of genius. (And even if you get switched to an awkward character and die, all you lose is a few seconds of progress.)

Although the core experience of Broforce already seems pretty solid, there are apparently a ton of features left in the game's development track. I'm looking forward to giving them a more thorough run-through once it reaches full release status.

I consider myself a fairly understanding individual, ... at least as far as video games go. I can get why someone would be interested in a high-intensity micro-management game, or a super-casual time-waster, or an annualized professional sports adaptation, even though I don't personally have any interest in those games myself.

But every once in a while, I come along a game that just stumps me. A game which proves there are whole niches of developer and player interest that I don't understand at all. Most recently, Euro Truck Simulator 2 became one of those games.

Racing, I can get. General vehicular action, I actually enjoy (especially when property or pedestrians can be mowed down). Even open-world exploration is something I can really get behind. But Euro Truck Simulator 2 doesn't really tick any of those boxes. You can drive... relatively slowly. The world is mostly non-interactive (and non-destructible). The map is based on real life, and overall pretty plain. You can upgrade and customize ... a cargo truck. Backing the truck up is an awkward challenge, accurately simulating the act of really backing up a semi trailer.

I just, don't. I don't get it.

I have to thank my friend who gifted me this game, because otherwise I certainly never would have experienced it. And sometimes I need humbling reminders like this. There are things in this world that I really, truly do not understand.

Progress: Basically none.

"We could have easily used the data to power a karma system," acknowledges lead game designer, Danny Belanger. "The data is all there but the point is not that, the point is if we put a score to that and gamify it then the question becomes 'are you doing that to optimise your game-play or are you doing it because you care?'

[...]

"We really wanted it to be a real life reason that you might choose not to do it, rather than a game-play reason. We wanted to let people make their own story."

- VG247 Article (page 2)

I am really, really, really pleased that Ubisoft is taking this laissez-faire approach to character morality in Watch Dogs. I'm pretty sick of games telling me when I'm being "good" or "evil," and giving me "good guy" or "bad guy" rewards as a result. It's refreshing to hear a developer acknowledge that choices are most meaningful when you let the player build their own meaning out of them.

Beyond the historic relevance of the original id Software productions, I have never held any significant interest in a Wolfenstein game. (The closest I've come was playing a demo of the 2009 iteration, which seemed a little silly and a little bombastic but not really enough of either.) So it's with some surprise that I find myself genuinely intrigued by what I'm seeing and hearing about Wolfenstein: The New Order.

What I'm seeing and hearing, specifically, is that the game is focusing on a compelling campaign mode; that it isn't wasting design or development effort on yet another multiplayer mode; and that it is pretty damned stylish, even compared to games that don't include experimental Nazi superweapons.

Not that I'm ready to put down pre-order money on this thing just yet, but I never expected to have this level of interest in Wolfenstein before.

Sonic & All-Stars Racing Transformed might be a great game. Hell, I've heard it compared favorably to Mario Kart, which is about as good as an arcade racing game can hope for. But I don't think I'll ever really know for sure, because for all intents and purposes, this game is unplayable.

Obviously, some people are playing this somewhere, ... somehow. But my specific "playability" requirements, which include in their entirety:

• On a PC
• Local multiplayer, using Xbox 360 controllers (the de facto standard for current PC games)

...are not met.

The game is clearly able to recognize my controllers, but recognition and compatibility are two different things, a distinction I don't frequently have to make. Between myself and a friend, each with our own controllers, the best we've been able to manage - through multiple attempts and several configurations, including both wired and wireless controllers - is one of us being able to control a kart in-game, while the other's controller is capable of rumble but not of control. (Several of our attempts were met with neither of us being able to control a kart, both of our characters sitting idly at the starting line.)

It's worth mentioning that controllers are configured in a separate application, an amateurish, crash-happy pile of garbage that makes Binary Domain's similar "Configuration" application look excellent in comparison.

The game has been on Steam for over a year, and it doesn't look like I'm the only one having this problem. So the only conclusion I can draw is that no one at Sega or Sumo gives a shit about this game. And if they don't, then I guess I shouldn't either.

Fortunately I got this on a super-sale, so I at least didn't waste much money on this mess -- which, again, might be a really fun game, for all I know. Well, whatever.

Like all good franchises, Civilization has finally (well, again) realized that space is awesome. The announcement buzz around Beyond Earth makes it clear that, while it won't necessarily change the basic gameplay mechanics of Civilization V, it will introduce some very interesting wrinkles regarding AI interaction and game goals.

For me, the best parts of Civ 5 were the most sci-fi parts -- stealth bombers, nuclear subs, death robots, and of course launching into space. Pretty much everything about Beyond Earth sounds like the best part to me.

The Cave has some really good ideas. First and foremost: its eclectic cast of player characters, each with a distinct aesthetic and a unique backstory. The game promises to develop these characters throughout its run, by engrossing the player in those stories, and examining each character's personality and motivations. And at the same time, each character has a special gameplay ability that enables it to solve puzzles and overcome obstacles in the wacky, quirky world inside the titular cave.

Unforunately, all of these lofty goals - every last one of them - are let down by roughshod execution and a general lack of polish.

Although each of the game's seven characters has their own story, these stories are all fairly simple: not just short, but shallow. As you unlock static pieces of "cave painting" art during the game, each character's story is gradually revealed, and (at least, based on the ones I saw) every one just maps to a single basic sin or vice. The game has a playable zone associated with each character, featuring that character's story, but most of these seem to have only the barest thematic connections to said story. The playable characters don't have any scripted dialog, dulling their inherent personalities; and ultimately, the element of "choice" involved for each boils down to a single trivial decision at the end.

Of course, the most fundamental flaw in this storytelling idea is that there are seven characters, and the journey has you select three of them. Meaning that, even if you wanted to play through the game multiple times to see each character's story, you'd have to see at least two duplicate stories by the end. Why not take the time to develop two more characters, or, even simpler, just cut one of these seven? It's a bizarre design choice that just seems incorrect.

The Cave's storytelling deficiencies wouldn't matter that much if the moment-to-moment gameplay was engaging and fun, buuuuut it really isn't. At its core, the game is about running around, picking up items, using them with other items, and activating switches to do stuff. Sometimes you'll need to arrange your multiple characters to solve a problem, like holding down pressure plates, or balancing a scale; most commonly, though, you'll just need to run from A to B, to C, back to A, maybe back to C, et cetera. There is a lot of running back and forth, and especially climbing up and down (e.g. ladders), which is particularly irritating because the climbing animation is infuriatingly slow. Basic movement makes up the majority of The Cave's gameplay, and this movement is generally tedious and tiresome.

The controls are also a little spotty. Collision with platform edges can get pretty janky, and jumping just feels unresponsive. There isn't just one concrete problem with the game's controls -- it's more a general melange of unpolished edges.

The game supports simultaneous local co-op, where each of two or three players controls a different character; a neat idea, but not implemented well at all. There's no split-screen, nor does the game camera zoom out to cover multiple players, so the camera can only follow one player at a time. If another player's character isn't in that camera range, that player can't do anything meaningful. Players can steal camera control from each other at any time, which allows them to swap focus, but of course means that everyone has to be coordinated with their plans and actions in real-time. In the end, this co-op is only a minor improvement - if that - over multiple players passing a shared controller.

Oh, and those character-specific abilities? They're very rarely useful at all. In general, the character-specific zones are made to require one or two uses of those abilities, but the rest of the game's obstacles can be overcome with standard moving, jumping, item-holding, and switch-pulling. In other words, the majority of the game doesn't care what characters you have. As a result, they really don't feel differentiated from one another, even within your three-person party.

The Cave isn't all bad, with some humorous narration and imaginative levels -- as well as its share of illogical, groan-worthy adventure-game solutions. But the game's highs aren't very high, and what it gets right is balanced out by persistent and sometimes glaring problems. The game overall suffers from a lack of polish, in both its gameplay design and its technological implementation. One gets the sense that a few more months in development could really have rounded this game out. Alas.

I don't regret my time in The Cave, but have absolutely no interest in going back to experience the stories I missed.

Better than: Brütal Legend
Not as good as: Broken Age
In many ways: like a spiritual sequel to Maniac Mansion

Progress: Completed with the Scientist, the Time Traveler, and the Twins.

Like, I think, most Ace Attorney aficionados, I am deeply concerned about Capcom's announcement of The Great Ace Attorney. Not because I dislike the prospective setting (which is full of new and interesting opportunities), or the presumed connections to franchise lore (which tantalizes the mind re: the previous games' Fey family) -- but because, due to it being thoroughly Japanese, there's a near-zero chance of Capcom taking this installment outside Japan.

For now, I'm holding out hope that Capcom USA will show some interest, maybe try a fan-petition campaign or something. But realistically I think this is just as likely to come to America as Kabu Trader Shun is, anymore.