You don't see games like Pragmata very often.

Big-budget single-player shooters aren't as common as they once were, and even more rarely do they launch new franchises. They often come with trade-offs--a game might nail the fundamentals, or have some surprising new hook, or have a resonant story, but rarely do you get all of them at once. Pragmata is the total package, a blend of tense and satisfying combat elevated by deep underlying mechanics and strategic choices, all in service of telling an impactful tale that spends time nurturing the relationship between its memorable characters. It's one of my unexpected surprises of 2026 so far and an early shoo-in for one of my favorites of the year.

You play as Hugh Williams, an everyman astronaut dispatched to a corporate medical research colony on the moon. There's an eerie stillness to the base that suggests something isn't quite right, but before you and your crew have any time to investigate, a moonquake rocks the base and leaves you as the only survivor. Now stranded and beset by legions of hostile robots, you're befriended by a mysterious android girl who helps you to survive by hacking the otherwise near-invincible robots. When she tries to give her alphanumeric name, Hugh calls her Diana to make it easier, and the two are joined at the hip from that point forward.

You don't see games like Pragmata very often.

Big-budget single-player shooters aren't as common as they once were, and even more rarely do they launch new franchises. They often come with trade-offs--a game might nail the fundamentals, or have some surprising new hook, or have a resonant story, but rarely do you get all of them at once. Pragmata is the total package, a blend of tense and satisfying combat elevated by deep underlying mechanics and strategic choices, all in service of telling an impactful tale that spends time nurturing the relationship between its memorable characters. It's one of my unexpected surprises of 2026 so far and an early shoo-in for one of my favorites of the year.

You play as Hugh Williams, an everyman astronaut dispatched to a corporate medical research colony on the moon. There's an eerie stillness to the base that suggests something isn't quite right, but before you and your crew have any time to investigate, a moonquake rocks the base and leaves you as the only survivor. Now stranded and beset by legions of hostile robots, you're befriended by a mysterious android girl who helps you to survive by hacking the otherwise near-invincible robots. When she tries to give her alphanumeric name, Hugh calls her Diana to make it easier, and the two are joined at the hip from that point forward.

Pragmata is near-future sci-fi, which means all the technology is well beyond our actual capabilities, but mostly exists on a continuum of what we currently know is possible. Hugh's helmet is sharp and angular like a Destiny character, but his suit is white and bulky, as you'd see on a real NASA astronaut. The most magical piece of future-tech on this moon base, aside from the existence of Diana herself, is lunafilament, which can be used as the raw material to 3D print just about anything, thus making the base mostly self-sustaining. In fact, there's lots of recurring talk about 3D printing and how integrated it is into the base, which helps the setting feel futuristic but not unattainable. It's grounded, at least as these things go.

The tag-team of Hugh and Diana is the keystone not just of the story, but of Pragmata's core combat hook. Hugh wields his weapons, first a basic sidearm and then a progressively more varied and creative arsenal, like a traditional third-person shooter. But whenever you aim down your sights at an approaching robot, you also see the enemies through Diana's eyes, visualized as a hacking matrix floating next to the enemy. These grids, which start small and basic but grow increasingly complex, let you steer from a starting point to a finishing node with the face buttons, all while still leaving you free to move and shoot. The robots are almost impossible to kill with your basic weapons, as their armor is too tough, but once you've hit the green node on the hack puzzle, the hostile robots crack open like lobsters.

This inventive hook imbues everything in the game with a sense of tension. The need to fire at enemies while also juggling your hack recalls the best moments of Dead Space, when you would suddenly need to change the angular orientation of your gun's projectiles on the fly. Encounters become a dance as you determine whether you can spare just enough time to finish the hack before the robot reaches you, or if you need to create some distance. Dividing your attention between the hack and the advancing enemy means you have to quickly glance back and forth, making every hack frantic as you try to avoid danger you're not actively watching. The setting and enemies here are nowhere near the body horror creepshow of Dead Space, but I kept getting that familiar feeling of tickling several different parts of my brain at once during skirmishes. And as more- and different combinations of enemies get introduced, the on-the-fly decision-making ramps up in complexity.

Like the best of the genre, Pragmata rewards creative thinking t

Pokemon's turn-based combat can be best described as an inch wide and a mile deep. Its rock-paper-scissors style is easy to understand, but below the murky surface lies an entirely different game. Moves that may seem useless at first glance take on a different meaning in a competitive setting, where complicated stat spreads are tweaked ever-so-slightly to maximize a Pokemon's efficiency and a constantly evolving meta-game makes it hard to nail down which strategies are viable and which aren't. Toss in over 1,000 unique monsters that can be trained in hundreds of thousands of different ways, and you're left with arguably the most impenetrable competitive video game scene of all time.

For decades, Pokemon's competitive scene was just that: a near-impenetrable experience that requires hundreds of hours--and hundreds of dollars--to keep up with. Pokemon Champions is The Pokemon Company's attempt to bring white-knuckled, competitive battling to the masses. The financial barrier to entry, at least ostensibly, is low thanks to its free-to-play model, and the snappy stat-training mechanics reduce a lot of friction. However, Pokemon Champions lacks the necessary onboarding to captivate a new audience while also giving clear advantages to players who've invested in Pokemon Home. In its current state, Pokemon Champions falls just short of being the be-all and end-all of competitive play that I hoped for.

Despite Pokemon Champions' lackluster onboarding, there are a lot of tutorials. When you first start up the game, you're introduced to a cast of characters who teach you how to battle, obtain Pokemon, and build a team. Assuming you don't skip any dialogue, it takes roughly 30 minutes before you're set loose. From there, you can battle online, train Pokemon, build teams, or continue with supplementary tutorials. I opted to do the latter.

Pokemon's turn-based combat can be best described as an inch wide and a mile deep. Its rock-paper-scissors style is easy to understand, but below the murky surface lies an entirely different game. Moves that may seem useless at first glance take on a different meaning in a competitive setting, where complicated stat spreads are tweaked ever-so-slightly to maximize a Pokemon's efficiency and a constantly evolving meta-game makes it hard to nail down which strategies are viable and which aren't. Toss in over 1,000 unique monsters that can be trained in hundreds of thousands of different ways, and you're left with arguably the most impenetrable competitive video game scene of all time.

For decades, Pokemon's competitive scene was just that: a near-impenetrable experience that requires hundreds of hours--and hundreds of dollars--to keep up with. Pokemon Champions is The Pokemon Company's attempt to bring white-knuckled, competitive battling to the masses. The financial barrier to entry, at least ostensibly, is low thanks to its free-to-play model, and the snappy stat-training mechanics reduce a lot of friction. However, Pokemon Champions lacks the necessary onboarding to captivate a new audience while also giving clear advantages to players who've invested in Pokemon Home. In its current state, Pokemon Champions falls just short of being the be-all and end-all of competitive play that I hoped for.

Despite Pokemon Champions' lackluster onboarding, there are a lot of tutorials. When you first start up the game, you're introduced to a cast of characters who teach you how to battle, obtain Pokemon, and build a team. Assuming you don't skip any dialogue, it takes roughly 30 minutes before you're set loose. From there, you can battle online, train Pokemon, build teams, or continue with supplementary tutorials. I opted to do the latter.

There are nine battle tutorials in total, and most of them barely scratch the surface of Pokemon's competitive depth. The one tutorial that focuses on weather, for example, showcases how water attacks deal more damage under rain and triggers certain abilities, but it fails to mention the other three weather states or other impacts rain can have. Another one covers Move Priority but glosses over how it actually works when multiple moves with different priority interact. There is an in-game glossary that goes a little more in-depth, but even that feels lacking. Not wanting to overwhelm a new player is reasonable, but I can't imagine jumping into competitive battles without fully understanding why an Incineroar is occasionally outspeeding my supposedly faster Jolteon. Sure, those resources are out there, but players shouldn't have to reach for external guides just to learn the basics of competitive battling.

Perhaps NPC battles could offset this by giving players a safe space to learn different interactions and try out strategies, but Champions lacks this as well. Casual matchmaking is your best bet, but I've found skill levels to be all over the place. Sometimes I'd get paired with a razor-sharp meta-relevant team that wiped the floor with mine, and other times I'd go up against a confounding assortment of Pokemon. The skill instability makes it hard to test whether a game plan is viable or not.

Read more

People of Note was clearly made with lots of love, but it is also a deeply silly game. Conflicts are resolved between musicians flinging music at each other, a simple country-wide road trip transforms into a battle to save all of reality, and somehow everyone is convinced that the power of friendship will somehow overcome an ancient eldritch-like power. If I didn't know any better, I'd think this game was an old-school role-playing game. And, to be fair, People of Note shares a lot of parallels with those games. While that means the strengths of those types of games are present in People of Note--notably the music and world design in its case--it also means that some of the shortcomings that can be found in the weaker installments of the genre are present in Iridium Studios' turn-based RPG too.

People of Note sees would-be pop star Cadence striving to fulfill her dream of winning a singing competition and getting propelled into fame. Worried that the pop song she's prepared isn't strong enough to sway the judges, she sets out through the land of Note in search of people who can add to her song. Her journey takes her to a desert where everyone is all about different kinds of rock music, a futuristic metropolis blanketed in perpetual night and inhabited by EDM-obsessed disc jockeys, a block-shaped party city that's all about rap and hip hop, and so much more. And all the while, repeated references to an event known as the Harmonic Convergence steel you for what will eventually be a sharp tonal shift away from road-trip comedy to dramatic high fantasy.

Your enjoyment of this story is really going to come down to how much you like puns and pop culture references--People of Note's humor is not unlike Borderlands 2 or Saints Row IV. The game rides the line between funny and corny well enough for me, save for one moment in the third act that made me cringe so hard, I contemplated simply not playing any more of the game that day. But I also enjoy games like Borderlands and Saints Row. If you're not a fan of the idea of a story that takes every single conceivable musical term and crafts a whole high-fantasy society and plotline with said terms, People of Note is probably going to grate.