The end of the year is the one time I can pretend I know how to write. I don't, and if you keep reading, you'll see for yourself. Let's get to it.

Honorable Mentions:

Dark Souls 3 – Look, I love the hell out of Souls games, but this is the sixth one I’ve played in the past few years (if we’re including Bloodborne). Dark Souls 3 is exceptional, but other things took precedent on this list. But play Dark Souls 3. It’s a great Souls game.

Grim Dawn – Grim Dawn is an excellent ARPG, but my time was mostly eaten up by Path of Exile which, unfortunately, stole quite a bit of Grim Dawn’s thunder.

The Actual List:

10) Furi – Free on Playstation Plus this summer, my expectations were exceedingly low for Furi, but it turned out to be a tight, trying, and terrific twitch-combat game. Imagine if the level of care and attention that went into most games went into a series of boss battles. Each encounter is unique and difficult, which tested me and forced me to try different strategies. It helps that the controls are remarkably responsive. Furi was a delight to play.

9) Oxenfree – I always meant to go back and play through Oxenfree again. What I remember is a strong narrative and interesting, believable characters. Exploring never felt like a chore, and I loved the puzzles in this game. They are unique, and they are unsettling. What a great atmosphere, and what an engaging game.

8) Overwatch – Overwatch is a brilliantly made team-based shooter, one that I anticipate playing well into 2017. Lucio for life.

7) Doom – Doom should be considered the gold standard for how to develop for consoles. This game is technically flawless – smooth, beautiful, snappy, and comfortable. Doom began as a game that seemed like a desperate grab for the feel of old first-person shooters. Upon playing it, I could not be more elated. More shooters should take after Doom.

6) Superhot – You probably already know all about this game: Time moves when you do, and only when you do. Shoot dudes, play it back in full speed, and feel like a badass.

That would have been enough to call this game great. In addition to this, I think the world building is done incredibly well. I sat for a half hour watching a fake online chat room talk about “Superhot.” Each participant had a consistent personality, and it was fascinating to watch.

I also love the faux-conspiracy plot for this kind of game; I think it works great. Solid, innovative gameplay, with fascinating surroundings.

5) Tyranny – Admittedly, I haven’t finished Tyranny, but it’s gripped me in a way that I know I’ll stick through it. That’s saying something, because reading is not my favorite medium of storytelling. I prefer film; cinematography is more immediately striking to me.

This game has a shit ton of reading. I dedicated myself to being immersed in this world because the set up of the narrative is so unique: You work for, as the title suggests, a tyrant. Your job is to travel and do evil shit. There are two main evil factions who want to go about this evil shit differently.

So many games “punish” the player for being good. I put “punish” in quotes because the player isn’t really punished: In Mass Effect, good deeds get Paragon points and cool unique skills. In Infamous, they also get Paragon points and unique skills. These games, which I love, actually reward players for being the “good guy.”

What makes Tyranny unique is that the player is genuinely punished for trying to do what traditional ethics would call the “right thing.” I met a guy whose village just got ransacked and pillaged. I felt bad and let him go. Everyone got upset at me, telling me I was screwing up: That’s not what Kyros (the tyrant) would want. That’s not what either faction would have done. All of my followers thought less of me. I thought, Am I crazy? Should I not have done that?

That’s an experience only a game could accomplish. I hope the game puts me in a corner, but even if it doesn’t completely follow through and succeed, this is a strong, unique experience that I have loved so far.

4) Firewatch – Since I’m a full-time graduate student, I’ve recently appreciated “bite-sized” games more and more. They’re shorter, just as delicious, and don’t leave me feeling bloated.

Firewatch is a strong, story-driven, relatively brief game. (Just a few hours, if I’m remembering my playthrough correctly.) The developers, confident in the beautiful landscape they’ve created, allow the player to breathe and play at their own pace. That’s exactly what I did: Walking around and getting lost wasn’t frustrating to me in Firewatch. If anything, it felt encouraged.

Getting lost paid off. There’s something I stumbled onto near the end of the game that reframed a lot of the narrative for me. I still don’t know whether it was scripted. It felt completely authentic. The ending didn’t work for a lot of people, but I thought it was perfect.

3) Hitman – I’ve been playing Hitman since Silent Assassin when I got it on the Gamecube. There is still nothing like this series, and I think that’s why I forgave its imperfections for so long. Traditionally, it’s had character. I even liked Absolution.

The most recent Hitman, though, is a refinement and mastering of the series. The game is in disguise, much like Agent 47 himself: It’s a puzzle game disguised as a third-person action/adventure. The systems complement the tone of the game perfectly. The NPCs are rigid and mechanical because Agent 47 is, by definition, a sociopath who sees humans as objects to be used and manipulated. There are so many ways to manipulate in this game, and even with guidance, they feel rewarding.

2) Stardew Valley – “There will come a day when you feel crushed by the burden of modern life, and your bright spirit fades before a growing emptiness.”

Stardew Valley is the video game equivalent of a big hug. In a year that, for most, has been a pretty huge bummer, Stardew Valley depicts everything I love about communities and about humanity that, deep down, I still know is possible, despite having doubts this year. This game lays on the charm immediately, and it never lets up.

Stardew Valley manages to make menial tasks feel rewarding and intrinsically valuable. This is largely due to the sound design. Everything feels like progress. The sounds of cutting down trees, picking and watering crops, and breaking open rocks and minerals while mining are all so satisfying. The music is loving, catchy, and welcoming.

What was most refreshing about Stardew Valley is that I never felt judged. I never focused on optimizing my efficiency each day, but I was still able to renovate the community center and feel as though I had accomplished something. I never planted as many crops as I could have, or mined as much as I was able. I didn’t even start managing animals until the end of my second in-game year, but I never felt punished for not wanting to do something. Some days I just felt like fishing, so I did that all day. Some days I felt like talking to people and giving gifts.

What this game evoked for me was a feeling of someone belonging, knowing they’re in the right place and doing what they need to do for themselves. This is a game for escapism and about escapism – or at least, depicting escape without actually escaping. Stardew Valley is about finding yourself in your element, whatever that may be.

1) The Witness – Many have written about this more elegantly than I ever could. I won’t claim to know for sure what The Witness is truly about. The creators may have had something singular in mind, or may have intended it to be multifaceted. I think it’s intentionally ambiguous, so I’ll interpret what I took.

The Witness begins with figuratively learning to walk. The first puzzle is the game in its most basic form: Take this dot, and draw a line to the end. Congratulations! You now know how to play The Witness. Obviously, that’s reductive. Based on the mass acclaim, as well as the backlash this game received this year, there must be more to it.

When I first played The Witness in February, I hated it. I thought the puzzles were too spread out, and I didn’t like having to find them. I didn’t like that I could find them in the wrong order and encounter puzzles that I simply could not solve. I despised being reminded that I was inadequate, that I was not learning, that I was not on the game’s level. And I hated those fucking masturbatory audio logs of philosophy excerpts.

So I took a break. A long one. I started The Witness again in October, with my wife this time. From there, we excelled, and I was reminded of the collaborative nature of the pursuit of knowledge. I’m training to be a clinical psychologist. We’re encouraged to collaborate, to consult each other and other professionals, our advisors. We’re taught to be receptive of criticism, and how to be simultaneously open to and skeptical of new ideas. Most importantly, we’re taught to be skeptical of ourselves.

In The Witness, progress is made by discovering what works. This conclusion, at least for my wife and I, was often best made after exhausting what doesn’t work. This central theme of empiricism struck a chord with me as a researcher – the game I resisted so much at the start now seemed like something made specifically for me. Everything in this game is intentional, purposeful, mindful, and exactly where it’s supposed to be. The game impressed me with its ability to allow me to impress myself. It constantly pushes the limits of its puzzle structure, playing with perception, sound, and the player’s expectations to make puzzles that are honestly surprising and breath-taking. Yes, many of these puzzles are breath-taking.

I could go into detail about my interpretations of the game: Human development, effortful learning, empiricism, art, science, games themselves among them. But I want to take a moment to celebrate this game and all the things it accomplishes. It is impeccably made and taught me to appreciate, and even occasionally enjoy, the work and effort that it required to truly learn.