Darrow 最近的评测

"In the Grim Darkness of the Far Future, There Is Only Chainsword Glory"

Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine 2 is here, and it's as brutal, glorious, and grimdark as the Imperium of Man could ever demand. If you thought the first game was a masterclass in making you feel like a walking tank with the finesse of a battering ram, then buckle up—because Space Marine 2 cranks the power armor dial up to 11. You’ll step into the ironclad boots of a genetically enhanced demigod, Captain Titus, and take on the worst the galaxy has to offer in a blaze of chainsword-swinging, bolter-blasting, heretic-purging violence. And let me tell you, it feels good.

Let’s start with the basics: You are Titus, a Space Marine, specifically an Ultramarine of the Adeptus Astartes, the Emperor’s finest warriors. Space Marines don’t just fight; they dominate the battlefield like titans among mortals, and this game doesn’t let you forget it. From the moment you land in battle, the weight of your power armor feels palpable. Every step is thunderous, every swing of your chainsword brings satisfying gore, and when your bolter speaks, enemies die. The Tyranids don’t stand a chance, and neither do you if you expect any mercy from the galaxy. It’s war, and everything is trying to kill you—so, as the Emperor wills it, you kill them first.

The storyline? Well, it's Warhammer 40,000. Of course, it's grim, unrelenting, and soaked in the blood of millions. In the 41st millennium, the Imperium of Man is beset on all sides by horrors unimaginable—Xenos, Chaos, and heretics (oh my!)—and only the Space Marines can stem the tide. Titus and his squad are dispatched to a planet under siege by the Tyranids, a ravenous swarm of bio-engineered monsters hell-bent on devouring everything in their path. The plot is quintessential 40k: grim, heroic, and unapologetically epic. Expect massive battles, cathedral-sized war machines, and the constant reminder that in this universe, hope is a fleeting luxury.

The combat in Space Marine 2 is, in a word, satisfying. The visceral thrill of chopping down hordes of Tyranids with your chainsword or blowing them apart with your bolter is unmatched. It’s like the developers took every player’s wildest dreams of being a Space Marine and cranked it to the max. The sheer weight of your attacks is felt in every bone-crunching melee kill, every bolter shell fired into the swarms of enemies. There’s no cover system, because why would you hide when you’re a Space Marine? You charge into battle head-on, and it’s as glorious as it sounds. Your job isn’t to survive—it’s to conquer.

And let’s talk about those Tyranids. They’re horrifying, and the game absolutely nails their swarming, endless nature. You’ll face waves of these grotesque, scuttling aliens, each more terrifying than the last. They come in droves, forcing you to constantly stay on the move, adapting your strategy, and prioritizing targets as if your life depends on it—because it does. The feeling of being one against many is perfectly captured, and you’ll be wiping ichor off your armor for hours after each battle.

Titus himself is a joy to play. He’s everything a Space Marine should be—stoic, righteous, and a killing machine with zero chill. He’s voiced with that perfect blend of honor-bound fury and grim determination that makes you believe, even if it’s hopeless, the Imperium will prevail because Titus is here. And though he’s an Ultramarine—often the butt of jokes for their rigid adherence to duty—the game makes you respect him. He’s a veteran, a hero, and you feel like you’re carrying the weight of the Emperor’s will with every action.

The world-building is exactly what you’d expect from Warhammer 40k: a gothic dystopia where every building looks like a cathedral designed by someone who exclusively listens to doom metal. The environments are grand, dark, and utterly oppressive, reflecting the crushing weight of the Imperium’s eternal war. The sheer scale of the universe is ever-present, with massive battleships, towering fortresses, and endless enemy swarms making you feel like a small part of something much, much bigger.

But the real star of Space Marine 2 is the power fantasy. The game absolutely nails making you feel like the most dangerous thing on the battlefield. The sound design is perfect—from the deafening roar of your bolter to the chainsaw growl of your chainsword, every attack feels like it has real impact. The camera pulls in tight when you perform brutal executions, showing every last detail as you dispatch foes in ways that would make even the Inquisition raise an eyebrow.

So, should you play Warhammer 40,000: Space Marine 2? Only if you like feeling like an unstoppable juggernaut, carving your way through waves of alien horrors in the name of the God-Emperor. It’s not just a game; it’s a chainsword-swinging, bolter-blasting ode to the grimdark future where the only thing standing between humanity and oblivion is you. And trust me, Titus wouldn’t have it any other way.

For the Emperor!

"Because Who Needs Pokéballs When You’ve Got Mixtapes?"

Cassette Beasts is the love letter to retro mixtapes you didn’t know you needed. Imagine this: you wash up on a strange island, and instead of normal survival instincts like "find food" or "don’t poke the glowing creature," your first thought is, "I’m gonna slap this thing on a cassette tape and see what happens." That’s the kind of game this is, and it’s glorious.

Right off the bat, Cassette Beasts grabs your nostalgia by the collar and says, “Remember the ‘80s?!” The whole premise revolves around recording monsters onto cassette tapes—because apparently, in this world, digital downloads are for cowards. You’re not just catching beasts, you’re recording their essence onto a tape and then morphing into them to fight. Yeah, that’s right. You become the monsters. It’s like a karaoke party where everyone’s belting out their best Godzilla impressions, except instead of embarrassing your friends, you're saving the world from an invasion of quirky, hand-drawn creatures that look like they came straight from a Saturday morning cartoon.

The creatures themselves are a mix of the bizarre, the adorable, and the “Who in the dev team decided this was a good idea?” You’ve got your usual cute suspects, but then you stumble across a walking, sentient trash bag, and suddenly, you’re having an existential crisis about what you’re really doing with your life. And don’t even get me started on the fusion system. Two monsters? Cool. Combine them into a brand-new abomination of nature? Even cooler. I made a plant-cow hybrid once, and I’m still not sure if it was beautiful or a crime against creation. Probably both.

Combat feels like the lovechild of old-school turn-based RPGs and a DJ mashup contest. It’s all about synergy, and not just in the “let’s work together” sense. You’re literally mixing monsters like you’re at a remix festival, figuring out how to turn your gooey blob and electric squirrel into the ultimate EDM banger of battle strategies. Pro tip: turn everything into fire. Fire is good.

And let’s talk about the music. Cassette Beasts is packed with catchy tunes that somehow manage to straddle the line between funky retro beats and songs you'd actually want to listen to on your commute. Each battle feels like you're fighting inside your favorite mixtape, with the soundtrack making sure you never forget that your cassette deck is your most powerful weapon. It's like living inside a neon-soaked record store, and honestly, who wouldn't want that?

The island itself is the perfect kind of weird, filled with quirky NPCs who have zero concept of personal safety. “Hey, go record this terrifying monster for me because I can’t be bothered” is pretty much their catchphrase. You’ll meet an assortment of oddballs who seem way too relaxed about the fact that their world is full of monsters and mysterious happenings. They’ll send you off to battle without blinking, which makes you wonder: are they just really lazy or secretly immortal?

Cassette Beasts takes the monster-catching formula we know and love, shakes it up with a boombox, and throws in a dash of chaos. It’s fun, weird, and packed with enough mixtape vibes to make you want to dig out your old Walkman. If you’ve ever wanted to fight monsters while grooving to a retro beat, and maybe turn into a sentient trash panda along the way, this is the game for you. So grab your headphones and your favorite tape—it’s time to save the world, one sick jam at a time.

"The Only Game Where You Can Romance a Bear and Feel Emotionally Conflicted"

Baldur's Gate 3 is a masterpiece in the sense that it lets you live out your wildest fantasies of adventuring, slaying monsters, and, um... dating bears? Yes, this game throws the "I’ll do anything for love" trope out the window and sets a new bar for RPG weirdness. And guess what? You will love every second of it.

The game starts off innocently enough: You're minding your own business when suddenly you're abducted by a squid-faced alien who sticks a wriggly brain parasite in your head. That’s when the party really starts. You gather your ragtag team of morally dubious companions, each one more charming and broken than the last, and embark on a quest to rid yourself of this mind-bending (literally) issue.

The gameplay is like chess, if chess involved throwing your friend into the enemy because you're too lazy to cast a spell. Turn-based combat makes you feel like a tactical genius one minute and a tactical disaster the next when you realize you’ve accidentally set half your party on fire. It’s like managing a circus troupe where everyone’s carrying explosives, but somehow, it just works.

The characters? Oh boy. The writers must have taken every D&D trope, pumped them full of sass, emotional baggage, and questionable ethics, and let them loose. You’ve got Astarion, the vampire rogue who is somehow both ridiculously charming and the last guy you’d trust with your drink at a party. Gale, a walking magical catastrophe who really needs you to stop giving him magical items unless you want to explode. And then there’s Shadowheart—yeah, that’s her real name—who manages to be both an emo cleric and someone you’ll obsess over because... mystery! Oh, and let’s not forget the bear romance option. Yes, you read that right. Romance. Bear. Game of the Year.

The game has a knack for making you feel the consequences of your choices. Save a village, and they cheer your name. Accidentally (or intentionally, I don’t judge) blow up a chicken, and you'll hear about it for days. Every action has weight, whether you're deciding the fate of an entire kingdom or figuring out how not to accidentally trigger the “everyone dies” button on your new staff.

But the real beauty of Baldur’s Gate 3 is that it’s as chaotic as you make it. Want to be the noble hero, inspiring hope wherever you go? You can do that. Prefer to backstab everyone, steal their gold, and then watch the world burn? The game won’t stop you. Just, you know, maybe don’t forget that fire spreads really fast in this world.

So, should you play Baldur's Gate 3? Absolutely. But don't say I didn’t warn you: you're going to spend way too much time customizing your character’s hairstyle, getting emotionally attached to digital vampires, and debating whether romancing a shape-shifting bear is a step too far... or just far enough. Enjoy the chaos!