Alright or what!? I’ve taken a break from staring at spreadsheets, analysing market trends, and unpacking game data on Substack to bring you my 10 favourite games of 2025.
I’m usually obsessing over copies sold data, retention curves, and attach rates, but here, the only metric that matters is the 2025 games I had the most fun with. Choosing 10 games was no easy feat, as 2025 is among the best years for games ever.
Before we get to the top ten, a few honourable mentions: ARC Raiders, Doom: The Dark Ages, Split Fiction, skate., Ball x Pit, Megabonk, PEAK, and THPS 3+4.
10. Clair Obscur: Expedition 33
I’m a simple dude. Give me timed-button presses in turn-based combat (shouts out to Superstar Saga), a satisfying parry window, and some campy Final Fantasy melodrama, and I’m in. So naturally, I had a blast with Expedition 33. It scratches a particular itch for active turn-based combat that big-budget JRPGs have largely moved away from.
Now, look. I’m not ready to call this the second coming of Christ like some folks. I get it, I really do. The game is great. But Expedition 33 is a wee bit too French (oui bit?) for my uncultured and very Welsh palate, the character designs veer into a distracting Uncanny Valley, and the level design feels like a relic of the early 2010s (seriously, a mini-map would have gone a long way).
But even with those gripes, I can't deny that this is an insanely well-done first outing, and the story kept me hooked from start to finish. Sandfall has built an incredible foundation here. I can’t wait to see what the team does next.
9. Ghost of Yōtei
I enjoyed Ghost of Tsushima and its expansion well enough, but I never really got Jin as a protagonist. He was just a bit too stoic for his own good, and the Jin I played as never really matched the Jin I saw in cutscenes. I have a theory here: it always felt like Sucker Punch had originally planned a morality system on Tsushima – honour vs. sneaky-sneaky – that hearkened back to the karma systems of the inFamous games, but then pulled the plug, leaving Jin in a bit of a character limbo and the plot all over the place.
Yōtei solves that for me. It doubles down on the first game’s greatest strengths, those impossibly gorgeous vistas and the clever, diegetic navigation, but Yotei adds a protagonist I find interesting into the mix. It turns out I’m a sucker for a well-executed revenge story, and Atsu carries that weight much better than Jin ever did.
I’m satisfied with the series ending here, though. Sucker Punch has refined the formula they started back on Tsushima, so I’m ready to see them move on to something fresh.
8. Deep Rock Galactic: Survivor
I’m a total mark for roguelikes and the "survivor" subgenre. I’ve put more hours into Vampire Survivors than I’d care to admit. I never thought I’d be saying this, but Deep Rock Galactic: Survivor surpasses VS for me, with the most addictive, "one-more-go" version of this loop I’ve seen. It takes that core DNA and marries it perfectly to the DRG world.
What sets this apart from the sea of VS-clones is the diversity of the grind. You’ve got different classes, specialised weapon overclocks, and more biome-specific hazards that force you to shift strategies more. I often defaulted to a garlic build in Vampire Survivors. But in Deep Rock Galactic: Survivor, one minute you’re playing a high-mobility Scout trying to kite a swarm, and the next you’re a heavy-duty Driller literally carving your own path through the rock to escape a pincer movement. And as is typical for the genre, there’s always something to chase, whether it’s a specific milestone, a new weapon unlock, or just pushing into a higher hazard level.
The mining aspect adds a layer of extraction-like tactical greed that most of these games lack. As well as running away from enemies, you’re constantly weighing the risk of staying in a level for an extra five seconds to snag some Nitra or Gold against the very real possibility of getting flattened by a Dreadnought. It captures that signature DRG tension perfectly. It’s a pure, concentrated hit of dopamine that makes time disappear.
I’ve flown quite a bit this year for work, and even the 11-hour transatlantic slogs felt like nothing thanks to this game. It’s almost dangerous to have this one installed on my Steam Deck, though.
7. Dispatch
Dispatch is more of an interactive prestige TV show than a game to me. But it still belongs on this list. The production is superb – the writing, the voice acting (minus the influencers, which I found jarring), and the animation are miles ahead of the clunky reputation this genre used to have.
The release cadence only elevated things for me. Instead of the excruciating months-long waits we used to get with Telltale episodic games, Dispatch took a page from the prestige-TV playbook, dropping two episodes a week for a month. I spent way too much time dissecting each episode with mates, lurking on the subreddit, and theorising about the plot between drops. It was a cool cultural event.
Dispatch is also just a blast mechanically. It balances the heavy, character-driven choices well with a surprisingly strategic dispatch management minigame that could stand tall even separated from the killer narrative.
Speaking of Dispatch’s narrative, it’s refreshing to play a superhero story that isn't drowning in the bleak, rote, end-of-days tropes that have become the industry standard in shows like The Boys and even my beloved Invincible.
Dispatch is funny, it’s sharp, and the data doesn’t lie. Seeing this one blast past 2 million copies sold and stay near the top of the Steam charts for over a month proves that there’s still a hungry audience for high-production episodic stuff like this.
Count me in.
6. Death Stranding 2: On the Beach
In true Kojima fashion, Death Stranding 2 refuses to just 'do the thing' again. Instead, it dismantles the ideas of the first game and asks if they were even right to begin with. The first game was a meditative, solitary prototype, but the sequel is a mechanically dense, conceptually heavy evolution. It’s smarter, tighter, and – at parts – even feels like a spiritual successor to Metal Gear Solid 5, even if it’s wrapped in a very different, very weird skin.
The traversal loop, the thing everyone sassed about in 2019, has been overhauled into something that feels like Tears of the Kingdom systems-thinking applied to topography. Kojima & Co. ease you into the fun stuff much faster this time. You get the ladders, the ziplines, and the monorails early, which acknowledges that friction is great for a thesis, but there’s a limit.
Combat is where the Metal Gear Solid DNA really starts showing. Between long-range tranq rifles and modular trucks armed with auto-turrets, you’re constantly improvising your approach. The narrative is also way cleaner thanks to a 'Corpus' glossary system – cheers, FFXVI’s Active Time Lore – which keeps the pacing from dying under the weight of a 40-minute exposition dump. This lets the story focus on the human stuff, like Sam’s relationship with Lou, which anchors all the 'Tomorrow' and 'Rainy' symbolism without getting too confusing.
It’s not perfect. The fan service nods to MGS can be a bit distracting, and some of that 'man vs. mountain' tension is lost when the game hands you a high-end jeep two hours in. But the systemic achievement here is nuts. The way player-built structures are better integrated into the world-building makes the Social Strand system feel less gimmicky and more like a genuine collab.
5. Donkey Kong Bananza
This game is smashing, literally. In Bananza, made by the Mario Odyssey team, DK is basically an untethered wrecking ball. The core hook is terrain deformation, and it is incredibly satisfying. Digging through levels and smashing walls feels genuinely therapeutic in that same lizard-brain way as Powerwash Simulator or Teardown.
What makes it work are the smart constraints. Nintendo left just enough indestructible guard rails in the environment so you can't totally break the game, but the freedom is bananas within those limits. Smashing into the ground from a high jump to create a massive crater feels exactly as weighty as it should. And I spent hours doing that mindlessly.
The emotional range in the character animations is top-tier, and it’s that fluidity – rather than raw pixel count – that makes this feel like a 'next-gen' Switch 2 title (despite the more rudimentary tech under the hood).
Bananza feels less curated than Odyssey. Where Odyssey was a tighter, polished feedback loop, Bananza trades that for raw possibility. It’s not always perfect, as the main collectables feel a bit randomly placed compared to Odyssey, while some of the NPC fetch quests definitely start to feel like filler after the 20-hour mark. I also wish the Shrines had pulled a Super Mario Sunshine and stripped away your "Bananza" power-ups to force some pure, high-stakes platforming. That comes later, but I’d have enjoyed the challenge sooner, if I’m honest.
But even with those grievances, the final third of the campaign is phenomenal. Once the game starts layering in everything, you see the vision: Nintendo is testing how much they can decentralise level design in favour of a reactive sandbox. While there are more negatives for Bananza than many of the other games on my list, I had so much fun with the minute-to-minute gameplay that DK’s smashed its way into the top half.
4. Hades II
Trying to follow up on one of the most decorated indie games of all time is a hellish task, but Supergiant pulled it off. I played a massive amount of this in Early Access, but it hit 1.0 this year. Seeing Hades II evolve from a strong sequel to an absolute titan of the genre made it a mandatory lock for this list.
Hades II expands on the first game’s scope in ways that almost make the original feel quaint. Melinoe’s witchcrafty combat is a complete departure from Zagreus’s hit-and-run style. I found Hades II more methodical, centered on those Cast circles and mana management, which adds a fresh layer of tactical depth. The addition of the surface route alongside the traditional underworld descent effectively doubles the game’s scale, and the way the story interweaves between the two is some rad narrative pacing.
The whole package just sings. From the art direction to the god-tier voice acting and the way the 'Arcana Card' system replaces the old Mirror for more flexible builds, everything feels like a direct upgrade. It’s rare for a sequel to feel this essential while still respecting the foundation of the original, but the 1.0 release proved that Supergiant is playing in a roguelite and storytelling league of its own at this point.
3. Hollow Knight: Silksong
A couple of months after finally rolling credits on Act 3, I’m ready to put my internal battle to rest: just like Hades II, Silksong trumps the original. We spent years wondering if Silksong could ever live up to the impossible shroud of mystery surrounding it. The result is more sprawling, more atmospheric, and more bloody difficult than I ever dared to hope.
The sense of scale here is just absurd. Pharloom feels massive, not just in terms of map tiles, but in its depth. Team Cherry has mastered that 'multiple path' philosophy where you’re constantly making choices about which nightmare to tackle next, and it gives the world a genuine sense of agency. The atmosphere is thick, with that haunting, melancholic beauty the first game was known for, but with a sharper, more vibrant edge that matches Hornet’s agility.
There’s personality dripping off every frame (literally, sometimes). The animation style has taken a massive leap forward. Hornet moves with a lethal, needle-like grace that makes the original game look almost stiff by comparison. And the voice acting is so unique and distinct to this world. Every grunt, chirp, and cryptic line of dialogue adds another. It’s rare for a game to feel this hand-crafted in 2025. It feels like every enemy and background element was obsessed over.
The boss design is impeccable as well. Every major encounter feels like a high-stakes dance (again, literally in one instance) that demands total mastery of Hornet’s moveset. It’s punishing, for sure, but the satisfaction of finally clocking a boss's rhythm is matched only by FromSoftware.
My only real gripe is the runbacks. There are a few sections where a death sends you on a long, frustrating trek back to the arena that felt a bit 'old-school' in a way that didn't always respect my time. But even with those tedious sprints, the package is undeniable – a staggering achievement that was somehow worth the wait.
2. Blue Prince
Blue Prince is a total anomaly. Earlier this year, I was obsessed with its bizarre, brilliant mix of non-linear storytelling, obscure puzzles, and 'one-more-go' roguelite design. There’s nothing else like it on the market. It’s a game that demands your full attention and rewards you with one of the most intellectually satisfying experiences I’ve ever had in any medium, full stop. Tonda Ros, who used to be an "ad man" before becoming a developer, is a bloody genius for putting this together.
The central loop works well. Every 'day' you enter Mount Holly Estate, you draft a new floor plan from a deck of room cards. It turns architectural layout into a resource management game. The aim – at first, anyway – is to build a path to the mysterious Room 46 while managing your stamina and making sure you don't trap yourself in a dead-end corridor of your own making.
Blue Prince forces you to think three steps ahead about space, geometry, and probability in a genuinely exhilarating way.
The depth here is staggering. I actually kept a 100-page mini notebook on my desk just to try and decode the narrative and track the more esoteric puzzles – something I’ve only ever done with Animal Well and Fez previously.
Blue Prince also reminds me a bit of Hades in how the story unfolds non-linearly, but the way you interact with the world is entirely its own thing. The game trusts the player’s intelligence implicitly, throwing cryptic clues and environmental storytelling at you that require actual deduction, not just following a waypoint. It was frustrating at times, but it was worth pushing through – even if the RNG did fuck me over in the end game.
It’s one of those polarising 'love it or hate it' games where there isn’t really an in-between, but for me, it’s a pure bloody love it situation.
It’s one of the best games I’ve ever played, period. In almost any other year, this would have been an effortless number one, but this year ... well …
1. Kingdom Come: Deliverance II
Alright, here it is. The big one. And bloody big is the right word. Kingdom Come: Deliverance II is a staggering achievement. And I’m not alone in thinking that KCD2 not winning Best RPG at the Game Awards was fucking criminal. Sakra! Anyway, this is Warhorse’s Witcher 3 moment. They’ve taken a niche, cult-classic foundation and scaled it up into a sprawling masterpiece.
Warhorse’s dedication to the realistic portrayal of 15th-century Bohemia (now their native Czechia) is unwavering, and the result is one of the most immersive historical sandboxes ever built. The scale of the world feels 'human' in a way I find hard to describe. That first journey between a small hamlet and the massive walls of Kuttenberg feels earned.
It was a bit of a rough start, though.
Because KCD2 goes all in on the simulation, like needing to find a bed before sundown or eating food, I found the friction too much at first. I had to shift my mentality a bit after some early frustrations. So I stopped playing it like Skyrim and started almost LARPing, inhabiting it like a person from the time. You really feel like part of the 15th-century fabric, and that total submersion is something few games have ever managed to achieve. It’s very RDR2-like that.
Another thing I noticed right away was the polish. Unlike the first KCD’s infamously rocky launch, KCD2 arrived in a fantastic state. It looks incredible. And like the Witcher 3 before it, KCD2 is surprisingly accessible for newcomers who haven’t played the OG.
The star of the show is Kuttenberg. It’s the most 'alive' and architecturally impressive city in any RPG I’ve played. Not just visually, either – the systems, emergent gameplay, and simulation all blend especially well in the city. Every mechanic, from the way your clothing affects your social standing to the manual 'hands-on' blacksmithing and alchemy, pulls you deeper into the period. You’re living in a world that feels like it’s reacting to your every move.
The enemy AI feels intelligent. If you’re seen lurking near a crime scene or wearing stolen boots, the NPCs deduce your guilt. You can end up branded or executed if you aren’t careful, which gives the 100-plus quests a level of stakes that most open-world games are too afraid to touch.
The combat has seen a massive glow-up, too. They’ve simplified the directions from six to four, making it feel smoother and more intuitive without losing the tactical depth that makes a longsword duel feel like a life-or-death struggle. Adding crossbows and those chunky hand cannons to the mix adds a brilliant new layer to the skirmishes.
And yet, the game never lets you forget your roots.
Henry’s journey continues seamlessly from the first game, but the writing feels more mature, focusing on dynastic politics, moral grey areas, and a gritty revenge tale that actually has some emotional weight. The chemistry between Henry and Lord Hans Capon is fantastic. Tom McKay and Luke Dale’s real-world friendship translates well to their dynamic on-screen (b)romance.
KCD2 is a bold, uncompromising, and deeply rewarding experience that proves you don't need dragons and magic to create a legendary RPG.
It’s my game of the year, hands down.