Seneste anmeldelser af Defectus Polaris

Expected actual gameplay. Instead discovered the revolutionary concept of watching numbers go up while my character grinds dungeons completely unsupervised like a responsible adult. My hero fights dragons while I'm at work, making me technically a professional adventurer with excellent time management.

Superpowered Chaos Incarnate!

Expected tactical shooter. Instead became an unstoppable invisible supersoldier who turns stealth missions into spectacular displays of extreme violence and flying body parts.

My enemies politely stand around in groups, making it easier to introduce them to walls at high velocity.
The slow-motion bullet time makes every encounter feel like directing my own hyper-violent action movie. I've accidentally mastered the art of dramatic entrances by kicking down doors while time freezes and enemies contemplate their life choices.

Warning: May cause unrealistic expectations about workplace conflict resolution and excessive appreciation for destructible environments.

Expected peaceful saloon management. Instead got a shooting gallery!

A fitting story, silly gameplay and suprisingly tricky steam achievements. A truly recommendable laid-back free time waster for you to feast and giggle.

Expected normal shooting game. Instead became Neo from The Matrix while red crystal people politely wait for me to move before attempting murder. Time only moves when I move, which explains why I spent 3 hours dodge-weaving through a single hallway like the world's slowest action hero.
The game keeps telling me cryptic messages about control and consciousness. I'm just here throwing staplers at glass people in slow motion while feeling philosophically attacked. Time is a Social Construct Anyway!
Warning: May cause existential crises about free will and unrealistic expectations for real-world bullet physics.
"Finally, a game that made standing still feel like a legitimate strategy" - My overthinking philosopher friend

Expected to save my son. Instead spent 200 hours building elaborate settlements with working plumbing while my kid presumably learns patience in captivity. Turns out the real treasure was the absurdly tall wooden towers I constructed along the way.
My character has become a post-nuclear interior designer who occasionally shoots mutants between furniture shopping trips. The dog is the best companion who never judges my hoarding 47 desk fans for "crafting materials."
Warning: May cause obsessive collecting of duct tape and sudden realization you care more about settlement happiness meters than actual plot.
"Finally, a game where ignoring the main quest feels like the right choice" - My priorities-challenged brother

Warning: May cause sudden interest in avant-garde art and questionable interior design choices involving deep red accent walls.

Expected epic space politics and sandworms. Instead got a game that's 90% walking through beige landscapes while my character complains about sand getting everywhere (he's right though). The sandworms show up less often than my motivation to keep playing.
The spice economy makes no sense. Apparently I'm supposed to care about space drugs while dying of boredom in an endless desert that all looks exactly the same. My character moves like he's walking through actual quicksand made of loading screens.
Warning: May cause extreme thirst, hatred of deserts, and sudden appreciation for games with literally any other color palette.

My character has the combat skills of a confused potato wielding a wet noodle against enemies who apparently went to Harvard for advanced player destruction. Just kidding, they were cheating. Makes sense that it was the only player who actually went for ranked matches, as 99% of times - lobbies are empty.
Oh, maybe unranked is better? Well, if you like bots that is. Because lobbies are empty.
PVE lobbies? Well, they are usually half full. But everybody is fighting the same monster for the most common materials.
Sadly, the game cannot be recommended at this time.

Expected simple shooting game. Instead got a PhD in advanced door destruction techniques while learning that every entrance is just a suggestion waiting to be violently disagreed with. My friend team moves like a synchronized swimming squad armed with explosives and unlimited confidence.

Expected relaxing underwater adventure. Instead got the most terrifying swimming lessons of my life where giant fish with trust issues chase me while I hyperventilate into my oxygen tank. Somehow became an expert marine biologist while screaming at ancient sea monsters.

Built an entire underwater mansion just to avoid going outside where the scary fish live. My actual bathtub now feels like a safe space compared to this alien ocean nightmare paradise.

Warning: May cause irrational fear of deep water and suspicious expertise in emergency submarine construction.

"Finally, a game that made me appreciate living on dry land" - My formerly beach-loving friend