Category: Video Games

It’s a shame we don’t see more open-world games set in the sweeping dunes of a great desert, and yet Atlas Fallen embraces this setting stylishly – bringing plenty of new ideas to the table, including a sand slide move that replaces the traditional sprint and quickly makes me feel like I’m back playing Journey again as I pave my way through Atlas Fallen’s golden oasis of destruction. That’s saying nothing of the unique combat system which has me darting around mid-air between explosive attacks that often leave my foes shattered into a thousand bits of sand and crystal dust, and I do mean that literally! Granted, the demo build I spent several hours testing didn’t always feel as smooth as I’d have hoped, and I couldn’t figure out whether it was my ultrawide monitor or something in my PC causing random slowdowns and frame drops at inopportune moments, but I found it difficult to walk away from my overall experience with Atlas Fallen without remaining curious and excited for what’s to come when it finally launches on May 16 in a, hopefully, more stable state.

Atlas Fallen centers around your own custom character who has come into possession of a magical gauntlet, an important piece of gear that’s central to its post-apocalyptic story. I really enjoyed the pacing here: a quick cutscene explains why the world is in its present state, you’re introduced to each major element of gameplay, and then it’s right to the action. Atlas Fallen deftly explained everything I needed to know during the first few minutes of play, and its early tutorials also served the purpose of bonding me with Nyaal, the mysterious entity living inside my powerful and legendary gauntlet.

Once I got myself out into the sun-baked world where Atlas Fallen takes place, I was quickly making my way through the sand, which looks gorgeously accurate as bits of particulate fly around in every direction in response to my movements. Movement is one of the best parts of Atlas Fallen, and there are plenty of different ways to get around. For instance, the Raise ability lets you lift platforms and other buried points of interest out of the sand, whereas you can Air Dash to give yourself an extra forward mid-air boost after you’ve expended both of your jumps.

This seamless open world absolutely wants to be explored, though I didn’t see too much of it beyond areas surrounding the first village, Castrum VII, which itself is loaded with quests to complete and NPCs to speak to – each with their own backstories and interesting dialogue. I also made a point of saving up and buying the first set of armor sold by the merchant in town, and it’s cool that such a clear indicator of progress was laid out to me early on; giving me a reason to go out and do quests, hunt, and explore while saving up my currency toward a clear upgrade that actually paid off in combat.

The open world is also littered with stuff to find, like loose crafting resources and wildlife. I was delighted to find that if I observed an animal from a distance, it would gradually lead me toward treasure with golden footsteps, turning completely gold once it had found a suitable digging spot. There’s also a friendly traveling merchant who wanders the desert, and it’s so neat to be able to identify him from a distance by his ornate flying kite.

Atlas Fallen features action combat that is both visually entertaining and challenging, rewarding me for thinking tactically while I juggle my Essence stone abilities and my Momentum bar. The way it works is, as I unleash my basic attacks with my transforming axe and sword weapons, my Momentum gauge fills up, unlocking Essence abilities of ascending tiers to use in battle with the caveat that I am easier to deal damage to if my Momentum bar gets too high. It can feel exceptionally good once you get into a groove, but it’s also where I ran into my aforementioned framerate drops and performance issues that ground the action to a halt, even causing me to die a few times during tougher battles.

But when it works, it works really well. Interesting enemy designs keep me on my feet, like the Diver which dives into the ground and reappears at random – and the heavily-armored, crab-analog Shellbasher that requires me to parry in perfect synchronization with its pounding pincer attacks, strategizing my bigger attacks to hit its vulnerable spots at just the right moments to do the most damage. My arsenal is enhanced by the addition of a Shatter ability that can be activated by pressing both gamepad triggers at exactly the same time when my Momentum bar is sufficiently filled up, unleashing a massive hammer attack that freezes and shatters any opponent who gets in the way of it. This is quite the spectacle on-screen, giving justice to the wild array of sand effects going off at once as the whirling storm of weapons and movements displace sand in all directions.

Few video games in history have cribbed more of its foundation from the Warhammer universe than the original Doom. The landmark ’90s first-person shooter was filled to the brim with titanic demonspawn, disemboweling shotgun blasts, and sweaty comic-book machismo — not unlike the goliath space marines in the grim darkness of the far future. So it’s fitting that Warhammer 40,000: Boltgun is such a dogmatic tribute to the tenets of vintage, id Software-hewn monster slaying. The latest entry in Games Workshop’s digital empire aims to take us back to a happier age: a time of 2.5D sprites, gelatinous blood splatters, and level maps dotted with secrets, keys, and ammunition pickups. The 90s are back, baby. John Carmack would be proud.

You are a Space Marine, a superhuman race of militant intergalactic zealots, who scorch across the universe to eradicate all of the forces who wish ill upon the Emperor of Mankind. After a brief expository overture, Boltgun discards all of its narrative precepts and gets right down to business. Your space marine is dropped into the opening level equipped solely with his quintessential Gears of War-esque chainsword; with one right click, you’ll saw a hapless chaos demon in two. Your hero will unlock an ever-expanding arsenal as they make their way through the gauntlet, the particulars of which will be immediately familiar to anyone who’s ever conquered Mars or Hell. Soon enough, you’ll be mouse-wheeling between a shotgun, a plasma gun, and the titular bolter, all of which are capable of reducing your enemies into a misshapen pinkish lump.

Boltgun isn’t taking any inspiration from the modern drift of first-person shooters. Players aren’t going to find any RPG meta-progression, open-world stat grinds, or quasi-MMO multiplayer mandates. This is a video game that could’ve easily arrived in 1996, and. Boltgun eagerly leans into those tenets with its art style. This is an old-school PC experience, replete with paper-thin enemy models, static death animations, and color-coded keys and doors. But that vintage ideology has been souped up by 2023 engineering, like a 1958 Jaguar converted into an EV. Boltgun might play like Doom, but id Software certainly wasn’t drumming up the gory particle effects and psychedelic bullet trails that fill the screen in developer Auroch Digital’s firefights.

After an hour with Boltgun, I can safely say that the action comes together beautifully. This is not a shooter about making tough tactical decisions. The space marine is big, beefy, and generously durable — he compels players to switch their brains off — so I found myself absorbing a ton of punishment as I eviscerated any who stood against the glorious Imperium. Boltgun gets increasingly unhinged when the bullets start flying and the corpses start rupturing. Every inch of the terrain is smeared with bright, crimson blood, to the point that it becomes difficult to remember, exactly, what you were aiming at. Trust me, I mean that as a compliment.

Of course, Boltgun is going to need some interiority if it wants to be truly memorable. I love a fabulously phantasmagoric gore binge as much as the next person, but I have also played enough indie, stylized shooters to know that flashy viscera is not enough alone to carry a product across the finish line. We might be in luck, though. I noticed a few tips in the game’s loading screens that made reference to different damage types, which apparently are more effective depending on whatever is currently occupying your crosshairs. While I didn’t play enough of Boltgun to make those strategic calls myself, that does sound like a step in the right direction. It brings to mind Doom Eternal, a game that delivered all of the rapturous slaughter of its mother franchise, while still encouraging some genuine mindfulness as we plotted out our murder sprees. Ideally, Boltgun will match that same thoughtfulness as our catalog of weaponry slowly enlarges and the demons in the path grow more treacherous.

Barring that, Auroch Digital has managed to teleport all of us into an alternative universe; one where id scored the Warhammer license at the peak of the ‘90s. Time travel is possible. I have just the low-res chainsword to prove it.

It’s very easy for disabled people to feel betrayed when a game lacks proper accessibility, and rightfully so. How can studios expect us to celebrate these innovations and victories if we still can’t play their games? But if there is one lesson I’ve learned from personally playing and professionally critiquing some of our favorites, it’s that major developments should be celebrated, even if that means potentially missing out on brand-new experiences.

When I write, I tend to avoid including my own perspective, aside from reviews. I’ve always felt uncomfortable discussing personal stories, especially since I share a space with over 400 million disabled players, each deserving to highlight how the games industry is helping or failing them. But in some instances, I think sharing personal stories is almost cathartic and crucial when exploring the necessity of accessibility. So, for this month’s Access Designed, I’m breaking my rule to tell you about my growth and evolving understanding of accessibility as a disabled player.

My birthday is in March – March 19 to be exact. Throughout my 29 years of life, I’ve gamed on just about every system. From handhelds like the Game Boy Advance to my current PC, I familiarized myself with some of the best games this industry has offered.

As a young child, I never had restrictions. Despite living with a neuromuscular disability – Spinal Muscular Atrophy type II – the muscles in my hands and fingers were strong enough to allow me to play across a variety of consoles. My relationship with my disability and games was incredibly black-and-white. I either played until I needed my older brother for assistance, or I would just return a game to my local store if the barriers proved to be too much for my hands. And before my disease progressed, I rarely needed to research new releases. That is until the release of the Xbox 360 and Xbox Live, when the reality of my limitations became more prevalent.

I met my current and closest friend group within the halls of Nacht Der Untoten. The fast-paced action of running from and gunning down Nazi zombies introduced new challenges that transcended beyond Call of Duty: World at War. For the first time in my gaming life, I was unable to fully utilize a controller. Not only did the shape and size of the 360 pad prevent me from reaching crucial buttons like triggers, the actuation force for the LS and RS buttons was far stronger than anything I’ve experienced. Before I told my friends about my disability, I consistently fabricated excuses as to why I was unable to sprint, use melee, or even aim certain weapons like bolt-action rifles. And for a time, I even believed my own lies. I didn’t want to accept my weakened state as a product of my disability, especially as it impacted my only form of independence.

Appreciating Accessibility

World at War acted as an accessibility awakening. I was unable to simply abandon the game that my friends obsessed over without risking losing the ability to play with them. So I began scouring through the options hoping to find a specific control scheme that would suit my needs. Unfortunately, nothing worked. It took my brother taping a popsicle stick to the back of my controller, allowing me to effectively use both triggers. It was a unique solution for a unique problem, one that still didn’t fix everything and angered me. World at War could not provide its own answers.