Like almost every annual sports game, EA Sports FC 26 is exactly what you would expect it to be: an iterative upgrade on last year's game. To EA's credit, it's a pretty good upgrade, all things considered. This is partly due to how off the mark EA FC 25 was, but also because of a concerted effort to solve some of the series' longstanding issues by focusing on player feedback. The end result is an interesting attempt to appeal to every type of player. It's not wholly successful in this ambition, but EA FC 26 is at least a step in the right direction.

The headlining change is a shift to two distinct playstyles. The series has always felt somewhat different when played online compared to offline, but the feeling is now much more pronounced and extends beyond the foibles of online netcode. Competitive and Authentic gameplay presets make a marked difference in how the match engine handles. You can choose between either one when playing offline, but online modes, such as Ultimate Team, are locked into the Competitive playstyle (even when playing Squad Battles against the CPU).

The Competitive preset is all about player skill. The pace of the game is rapid, with passes ping-ponging between players' feet, and the spotlight is on dribbling, skill moves, and consistently high-scoring matches. Despite this proclivity for attacking football, defending has also been improved. Successful tackles actually regain possession, rather than knocking the ball right back to the attacking player's feet, so a lot of the frustration from previous entries has been exorcised.

In 2020's Ghost of Tsushima, protagonist Jin Sakai is a samurai, part of Japan's ruling class during the Kamakura period in which the game is set. When Khotun Khan and his Mongolian army attack Jin's home island of Tsushima, the samurai is unable to repel the invading force as the noble warrior he was forged to be, and must instead sever his honor by becoming the fearsome "Ghost." Yet adopting underhanded tactics to gain the edge comes at a cost, as Jin is forced to grapple with sacrificing his relationships, his moral code, and everything he once stood for in an effort to defeat an unconventional foe.

In Ghost of Yotei, protagonist Atsu doesn't have to make such choices. She's not a samurai, but a wandering mercenary from an ignoble family--a family that was slaughtered at the hands of a gang of violent outlaws known as the Yotei Six. With everything taken from her, Atsu's gender and lowly status mean she has no fixed standing in Japanese society during the early 1600s.

Alone and consumed by revenge, she carves her own path forward, adopting the mantle of the onryo, a vengeful spirit from Japanese folklore that's able to inflict harm in the world of the living. Like Jin, Atsu becomes a symbol--one that strikes fear into the hearts of her enemies as her legend grows. But while this parallel is notable, it's the differences between Jin and Atsu that stand out the most.

Hollow Knight is a venture into Hallownest's depths, a methodical descent ever deeper into the quiet stillness of a long-dead kingdom in a desperate attempt to understand why this civilization fell, what possesses only some of its bug citizens to revert into unthinking and violent insects and not others, and what it is we're even doing there. There are no concrete answers to be found or a set path to follow; there's barely a discernible objective for almost the entire game. It is a story built around curiosity, only rewarding snippets of Hallownest's fascinating history to those who venture for no other reason than wanting to do so. It's one of my favorite games of all time, and its sequel, Hollow Knight: Silksong, is even better.

In some ways, you can tell that Silksong started out as an expansion to the first game. It plays largely the same, and long-time fans will fall into the familiar rhythm of pogoing off enemy heads and deadly saw blades with downward slashes, frantically healing during brief breaks in an intense boss fight, parrying an attack with a well-timed slash, and breathing a sigh of relief upon reaching the next bench and setting a new spawn point.

It's not all exactly the same: Hornet's downward slash is initially her trademark diagonal dive (but you can change it later!), for example. But Silksong feels like more Hollow Knight. The rhythmic acrobatic nature of combat, rewarding feeling of success from defeating a tough-as-nails boss, and sense of wonder at discovering that there is, in fact, another area to explore are all here. Team Cherry created a superb gameplay loop in the first game, and that fantastic formula continues to shine in Silksong years later.

I'm old enough to remember how it felt to first play Final Fantasy Tactics in 1997--to remember its stirring score, deep tactical combat, and most of all, the complex story of broken relationships and valor set against a bitter, conspiracy-laden battle for royal succession. It all came together to create an unforgettable experience. More than nearly any game of its time, I was so rapt in it that I would find my mind frequently wandering back to it, planning new strategies, wondering what would happen next.

Tactics is a game that has lived on as a cult classic with sporadic attempts at giving it its due, as with 2007's War of the Lions. The Ivalice Chronicles is the latest and best version so far, modernizing just enough to keep its spirit intact and enhance its memorable story without sacrificing its classic charms.

The story primarily follows the life of Ramza Beoulve, the youngest and most obscure member of a storied house of nobles, and his fractious friendship with Delita Heiral, a commoner who was treated like family by the Beoulve clan. As narration informs us before the game begins, history remembers Delita as the conquering hero of the War of the Lions--but it was the relatively unknown Ramza who should actually be celebrated.

Blippo+ is certainly one of the strangest games you could play this year--or any year, really. Released on Steam, Switch, and Playdate (the small yellow handheld famous for its crank controls), it strains the fundamental definition of a video game. Instead, it's more of a simulation of TV channel-surfing in the late '80s or early '90s, a kind of interaction younger generations actually have no experience with. It's a game whose target audience would seem to be very few people at all. And yet, because I enjoy exceptionally weird experiences, it delivers.

Blippo+ is a collection of live-action skits meant to play like a cable television package from 30ish years ago. When you first start up the game, it "scans" for channels--a process I vaguely recalled interacting with as a kid when Blippo+ reminded me. Then, once its dozen or so channels are found, you simply... watch TV.

The TV schedule plays out in real time. These are not on-demand offerings a la Netflix or HBO Max. This is a perpetually cycling programming schedule. If you tune into the news channel, for example, you'll miss what's happening at the same time on the music, family or--yes--even the porn channel. Each program only lasts a few minutes, so it's not as though you're locked in for 30 or more minutes if you want to watch any single program in its entirety. This also makes it easy enough to eventually catch everything, either by channel-surfing routinely like a kid after school in 1996, or by sticking with one channel at a time until it has looped fully, then moving onto the next channel.