Recent reviews by Rokakaka

Wow, I'm speechless.

I wasn’t expecting much when I launched Robot Warriors, a modest indie title nestled quietly in the corners of Steam, but what unfolded was a brief, surreal, and almost meditative descent into neon chaos. From the opening screen, you’re dropped into a pulsing, synth-driven battlefield that whispers of arcade cabinets and forgotten sci-fi dreams. You control either a sword-wielding assassin or a trooper with guns ablaze—each bringing their own flavor of devastation. The aesthetic is minimalist but effective: dark backdrops, bright enemy flashes, and a UI stripped to the bones. It’s almost sterile in design, and that starkness works in its favor. There’s no hand-holding, no exposition, just cold metal, and hot combat.
The gameplay loop is deceptively simple: kill everything, survive the wave, find the exit. Repeat. But it’s that stripped-down purity that makes the game either refreshingly raw or frustratingly shallow, depending on your expectations. Combat is tight enough to feel responsive, especially with the sword character—swings land with a satisfying clang, and you’re encouraged to dart in and out like a ghost with a blade. The gunner, on the other hand, offers more classic twin-stick shooter vibes. There's a strange, almost dreamlike tempo to it all—like you’re playing through a memory of a game, rather than the game itself.
Where Robot Warriors falters most is in its lack of clarity and polish. Objectives sometimes feel vague or unfinished. In one run, after defeating a boss, the screen simply faded to black, leaving me unsure whether I’d won or hit a bug. Levels can feel oddly stitched together, like placeholders that never saw their final iteration. And yet... that liminality might be part of its strange charm. This game feels like an echo of something bigger—an unfinished whisper of what could’ve been a cult classic, had it been given more time, more budget, or more care. That said, bugs and repetition wear thin quickly. What starts out mysterious begins to feel monotonous after a few rounds, and the game’s lack of progression systems or meaningful rewards makes it hard to stay invested long-term.
Musically, the game shines in a quiet way. The soundtrack is synthetic and spacey, pairing well with the alien arenas. The sound design is sparse but fitting—slashes, blasts, and low synth growls fill the void. I found myself leaning into the rhythm of it all, zoning out in a way that reminded me more of an interactive music video than a traditional action game. But again, that atmosphere is fighting a losing battle with the game’s pacing, which lacks variation or escalation.
In the end, Robot Warriors feels like a relic from a future that never arrived. It's rough, unfinished, and somewhat baffling—but undeniably intriguing. It’s the kind of game that lingers in your mind for reasons you can’t quite name. If you’re the type to explore strange little digital ruins and find joy in raw, unfiltered indie ambition, it might just be worth your time. Otherwise, you’ll probably leave the arena wondering, like I did, whether this was a forgotten prototype or a minimalist masterpiece lost in translation.

I'm speechless, Filoni has done it again

In an age of cinematic mediocrity and watered-down content, it’s a rare and refreshing occurrence to experience a work that not only transcends its medium but redefines it. Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga is a tour de force, a profound meditation on the Star Wars mythos that dazzles both the casual fan and the connoisseur alike. Truly, it is not merely a game—it is an art form, a postmodern reflection on the depths of storytelling, and a tribute to the lasting cultural resonance of George Lucas's iconic universe.

From the opening sequence, where the iconic Star Wars theme subtly melds with the unmistakable clink of Lego bricks, it’s clear that this is no ordinary adaptation. Dave Filoni, the auteur behind this remarkable reimagining, has elevated the often-overlooked Lego format into something approaching high art. Each level, each interaction, is imbued with a careful, almost reverent attention to detail. The characterizations of beloved heroes and villains—distilled into whimsical Lego mini-figures—exude both gravitas and charm. Filoni has taken what could have easily been a slapstick parody and transformed it into a layered, nuanced retelling of one of the greatest sagas in modern pop culture.

What’s remarkable is how the game retains the humor and lightheartedness inherent to its Lego origins while never diminishing the epic grandeur of the Star Wars universe. It’s a delicate balancing act, one that requires a mastery of tone, and here, Filoni succeeds with aplomb. The narrative—stretching across the prequels and original trilogy—captures the essence of Star Wars not as a simple space opera, but as an allegory for heroism, fallibility, and redemption.

The design of each level is a visual and auditory feast. The environments—whether it’s the desolate sands of Tatooine or the bustling streets of Coruscant—are rich with texture and atmosphere, a testament to the devotion put into the game's world-building. And the score—oh, the score—remains one of the greatest triumphs of this project. John Williams’ iconic compositions, reimagined through the Lego filter, are given new life, further elevating the emotional stakes of each sequence. You’ll find yourself humming the familiar themes long after the credits roll.

But it’s not just about the visuals or the score; it’s about the emotional resonance. The Complete Saga does something that many other adaptations fail to achieve: it makes you feel. When you are guiding Luke Skywalker through his journey from farm boy to Jedi Knight, it’s hard not to be moved by the weight of his transformation, even when you're navigating a world of Legos. This game understands that the magic of Star Wars isn’t in the spectacle alone, but in the quiet moments, the reflections on identity, loyalty, and the unyielding pursuit of hope.

To call Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga simply a "game" feels like a disservice. It’s an experience, a monumental achievement in interactive storytelling. Filoni has done more than just craft a fun romp through the Star Wars universe—he’s created a love letter to it. For all the nostalgia it evokes, it also reinvigorates the spirit of Star Wars in a way that feels fresh, joyful, and utterly timeless.

In short, Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga is not just an exercise in fan service; it is a masterclass in the art of adaptation, a profound meditation on the lasting power of Star Wars, and quite possibly, the most important work of the medium since the introduction of the Lego brick itself.

im speechless.

Baldur's Gate 3 is seriously overrated. I don’t get why everyone is hyping it up. The graphics are good, sure, but that’s about it. It’s like they focused on looking pretty and forgot about making an actually fun game.

The characters? Boring. I made an elf wizard, and she felt more like a cardboard cutout than a real character. The dialogue tries too hard to be clever and ends up being cringey. I just wanted to skip most of it.

The story is all over the place. I found myself not caring about what was happening at all. It’s filled with twists that feel forced and predictable. I was more frustrated than invested.

And the combat? Don’t even get me started. It’s slow and feels tedious. I had to spend too much time figuring out what to do, and it just wasn’t enjoyable.

Honestly, if you’re thinking about playing Baldur's Gate 3, save your time and play something else. It’s just not worth the hype. There are way better games out there.

I loved it better than Witcher III overrated trash

i liked it

Cookie butter

My sis got me a steam card for my b-day which I used on this game wish I didnt very boring and highly overpriced ._.

yes

Do you have blood in your body?
If yes try this game

Love