You know that feeling when you see the first trailer, everything about it appeals to you, but you somehow think, “eh, this isn’t for me”? That’s exactly how I felt when I first saw the announcement for Hell is Us. I told myself, “oh no, another soulslike,” and… well, I couldn’t have been more wrong. Hell is Us came, slapped me a few times, punched me in the gut even more, and simply destroyed me—both emotionally and intellectually. This is a game that doesn’t immediately show you what it is; instead, it gradually pulls you into this incredible, brutal, bloody, ruined, yet simultaneously beautiful and utterly honest world. Little by little, until it hits you: “Wow… what did I just play, what did I just see… this is fantastic!”

You step into the role of Remi, a soldier in the ON (UN) peacekeeper unit. He joined the Peacemakers solely because he heard they’d be deployed to Hadea, a land consumed by civil war, where his parents currently reside. In reality, he realized this was the only way to enter this hellish country, where conflict has raged for decades—centuries even—reaching a boiling point. Without a concrete plan to achieve his goal, Remi, like you, finds himself trapped in a place he knows nothing about, surrounded by strangers. As lost as Remi is, so are you, and the game makes it clear right from the start: there are no maps, no markers, no checkpoints—nothing that tells you exactly where to go. And that is one of the game’s greatest strengths. It offers the player a vast world, divided into areas, full of mysteries you must solve on your own, armed only with the information you gather through exploration and deduction.
Hadea is a fictional country that unmistakably resembles a mix of Eastern European nations—in its appearance, architecture, the people you meet, their styling, and even their names. But what hit me personally was the intimate side of the game, the human side. A civil war erupted in Hadea—yet another one—specifically in 1991. Two peoples who had lived together for so long decided to turn against each other. One side, ruthless and convinced of its superiority, seeks to utterly annihilate the other, which merely believes it has the right to be there, having inherited the land from their god.

Hadea, the world of the game, and its events strongly resemble not only historical conflicts in this region but also other tragic wars around the globe, including ongoing ones in the Middle East. Yet, Hell is Us doesn’t shy away from showing the very worst of war and humanity. Ruthless, brutal, shameless, and conscience-free individuals—the kinds you read about in textbooks—populate this world. But you’ll also encounter the other side: survivors who simply want life to be like it once was, who wish to live in peace and just exist. But someone won’t allow them. The game is packed with personal stories that will truly hit you, all emotionally conveyed at an even higher level thanks to impeccable voice acting. Overall, Hell is Us is a story about the worst side of humanity, and I believe that’s why it got this name: because the truth is, we are hell, no one else.

Hell is Us isn’t a soulslike—at least not in the way most expect. This is an action-adventure game focused on solving mysteries, and trust me, there are plenty of them throughout your playthrough. I’m not talking about simple puzzles; these are brilliantly crafted challenges, often hidden behind seemingly innocent conversations and simple beginnings. Early on, you’ll speak with a few people who will share their stories, which mask tasks, deeper thoughts, or perhaps even your objectives. By exploring parts of this world, you’ll uncover that it’s entangled in mysteries with no answers for centuries. Who once ruled this land? What caused the hatred between its two peoples? And so on. Through these intertwined, conflict-driven mysteries you witness and initially take part in, you gradually reveal a far greater secret that began over a millennium ago, explaining everything happening now.
I loved that this game requires you to take notes to solve certain puzzles. Clues can be subtly embedded in level architecture or in medieval documents you discover. Years, names, events—they all form pieces of a larger puzzle you must piece together. This mysterious layer leaves a strong impression on the player, from start to finish. Puzzles, brainteasers, tasks—they’re all there, surrounding you. At times, I felt like I was playing one of the best 90s point-and-click adventures, only in a new form—better put, it’s that, but with one more element: combat.

To explain the combat, I need to clarify something. When the war began, a supernatural phenomenon appeared in Hadea. Living beings, reminiscent of various monuments worshipped in these lands, emerged. But these beings, called The Calamity, are not to be worshipped. They are the byproduct of the worst of Hadea, a physical manifestation of hell within humans, ravaging people alongside the civil war. The Calamity look terrifying, move in genuinely disturbing ways, and sound so creepy that your hair will stand on end for the first ten hours. Their presence is haunting throughout the game. And they’re not just part of the story for you to casually defeat as you like.
The Calamity vary in strength, but the stronger ones harbor human emotions manifested before you, which must be destroyed before you can break the hollow shells of these creatures. Emotions like Ecstasy, Rage, Suffering, Terror, and more. Each emotion manifestation is an enemy that must be eliminated, and each sounds even scarier than The Calamity itself. Essentially, all the worst emotions in someone inflicting terror on you become the main enemies—simply fantastic!

As I said, this isn’t a soulslike, and it isn’t. There are no boss fights, which may disappoint some, but believe me, they’re not missed. Later, you’ll encounter so many stronger enemies that you’ll wish boss fights existed instead of the usual approach. The Calamity can harbor several emotions at once, which you must first defeat before destroying their shell. Each emotion is highly aggressive with unique attacks—terrifying both in combat and audiovisually, in the best possible sense.
Remi has specialized weapons forged exclusively for combat with these enemies: swords, axes, and more. You’ll have light attacks, charged heavy attacks, and a companion drone. There’s no XP or character upgrade system. Weapons level up based on usage, and you can upgrade some equipment parts, active and passive relics, and a few necklaces, adding light RPG elements. You can also upgrade your drone to disrupt enemies, apply glyphs to weapons for special attacks, and infuse weapons with terror, suffering, rage, or ecstasy to deal more damage to emotional manifestations. There’s a parry mechanic that becomes crucial later, boosting your attack power—but the “parry window” is tiny, so you need real skill to use it effectively.

Health and stamina are linked. If your health is at half, your available stamina is also halved—a neat mechanic simplified by the Healing Pulse. After combat, you can regenerate health and stamina by pressing RB or R1. Like parrying, this has a short activation window; getting hit during this period cancels potential health regeneration until the next few attacks. Essentially, you heal in proportion to the damage you deal, which means, yes, you’ll still need healing items—maybe not early on, but certainly in the final third of the game.
Another excellent mechanic: you lose nothing upon death, and enemies don’t respawn on the map. Each area has a Timeloop barrier, where extraordinary injustice and suffering cannot vanish. This is The Calamity’s main sustenance. Until the Timeloop is closed, enemies occasionally appear even after clearing them. Once it’s sealed, the map remains free of enemies.

The game’s focus on mysteries, exploration, and puzzles is so intense that I initially thought combat was just an “afterthought” until the final third, where it became brutally difficult and even frustrating. By “afterthought,” I don’t mean poorly designed; rather, the game’s mysteries—from map to map—create such a strong impression that you sometimes forget combat exists. But it’s there for a reason: a perfect tool, a narrative device within this game.
And the design… another mind-blowing aspect. The entire Hadea map is divided into locations you must visit, each hiding secrets, mysteries, puzzles, and clues. Some maps are set in forests, others near monasteries, cemeteries, partially ruined buildings with falling grenades, or next to beautiful lakes surrounded by divine blue flowers. The variation in maps—their design, visuals, music, and gameplay—is staggering.

Some areas are open, allowing free exploration, while others are narrow with branching paths. You won’t complete everything on a map in one go; the game is about collecting clues in one location and traveling in your APC to continue your investigation elsewhere. Everything in the game makes sense with this travel mechanic, so backtracking is essential. Unlocking safes and returning to buildings just for a small item to progress the world is part of the experience. It never bothered me—it made perfect sense, and I wanted to complete as many tasks as possible.

Speaking of which, the main mystery is composed of numerous smaller ones branching in all directions. Solving one opens five more, and you won’t immediately know how or if they relate to your goal. Reading is essential: battlefield reports, letters from survivors, historical books, conspiracy theories—you’ll spend a lot of time reading. The game expects you to be an investigator, uncovering all the secrets of this war-torn land.
Consciously or not, you’ll also tackle side missions. Even when marked as secondary, each is so well-designed that you’ll want to complete them, drawn to discover the outcome of these small or significant mysteries.

Graphically, the game is stunning on PlayStation 5 Slim. Lighting, effects, and sound blend perfectly. Locations, atmospheres, and environments consistently impress—from beautiful lakes to eerie forests to cities littered with corpses. The game masterfully conveys the horror of war, leaving you emotionally involved.
Hell is Us (PlayStation 5)
I didn’t expect a game to blow me away like this this year—but a few have, and perhaps the strongest impression was left by Hell is Us. The story, exploration, and puzzle-solving fit me incredibly well. But it’s not just that—this is a highly focused game that does exactly what it intends: shock players, immerse them in this incredible world, and make them reflect on the absurdity of war and human behavior. A game with a strong message running through every inch of its maps, yet still fun and intriguing enough to hold you tight.
