A story gives you a reason to care about the world you're extracting from.
In a week spent in transit, critic Harrison Polites found time not for full reviews but for honest reckoning — three games, three different answers to the question of what makes a game worth remembering. Together, they trace the familiar tension between mechanical craft and the deeper human need for story, consequence, and reason to return.
- Dispatch, buried at launch beneath a crowded release calendar, quietly delivers some of the best storytelling and voice acting in recent memory — built by veterans who know how to make choices feel like they matter.
- Hell Is Us swings for something genuinely daring — war, genocide, vengeance — but repetitive enemy design and a stalled progression system keep it from landing the knockout blow its ambition deserves.
- Arc Raiders hooked a self-described non-shooter person with a clean cooperative loop and a penalty system designed to keep toxicity in check — and for a while, it worked beautifully.
- All three games are circling the same problem from different angles: mechanics alone don't sustain engagement, and Arc Raiders' 80 percent player-base drop is the starkest proof that even a satisfying loop goes hollow without something larger to hold it together.
Harrison Polites plays more games than he can fully write about, and this week — stuck in transit — he found a workaround: three quick verdicts, each arriving at a different conclusion about what makes a game stick.
Dispatch, built by former Telltale developers, casts you as a manager of down-and-out superheroes fielding 911 calls in Los Angeles. Most of the experience unfolds through cutscenes and dialogue choices, with a minigame that matches heroes to emergencies based on their abilities. That minigame turns out to be the weakest element — but it barely matters. The narrative hooks immediately, the humor lands, and the voice acting earns every beat. Its real strength surfaces when played alongside someone else, comparing choices and diverging story paths. Polites is already planning a second playthrough to take the road he didn't.
Hell Is Us came recommended as the best game of 2025. Polites finished it and couldn't quite agree — not because it fails, but because it falls just short of its own ambition. The game tackles war and vengeance without flinching, refuses to hold your hand, and plays closer to Nioh than Dark Souls. But the same four enemies repeat throughout, and the lack of meaningful progression eventually dulls what is otherwise a genuinely daring experience. The sequel, he suspects, could be something special.
Arc Raiders entered his life mid-haircut, on a barber's recommendation. As someone who avoids competitive shooters, Polites was surprised to find a cooperative extraction loop that felt clean and largely good-natured — strangers saving each other from AI robots, a penalty system steering aggressive players away from the rest. But the game's player base has since dropped 80 percent from its peak, and he understands why. The loot is random, progression is thin, and without a story to give the world meaning, even a well-designed loop eventually feels hollow.
Harrison Polites plays more games than most people have time for, and he's learned to live with the gap between what he finishes and what he can fully write about. This week, stuck in transit, he's found a workaround: three quick verdicts on games worth knowing about, each one arriving at a different conclusion about what makes a game stick.
Dispatch arrived in late October, buried under a avalanche of other releases—the worst possible timing for a game that deserves a full review. Built by former Telltale developers, it casts you as a manager of down-and-out superheroes working for the Los Angeles hero dispatch unit. The bulk of the experience unfolds through cutscenes and dialogue choices, punctuated by a minigame where you match heroes to 911 calls based on their abilities. It's a deceptively simple premise wrapped around a genuinely adult story with sharp humor and voice acting that lands every beat. The dispatching minigame itself—one of the few moments where you're actually playing a game rather than watching one—turns out to be the weakest link, but that's almost beside the point. The narrative hooks you immediately, and the game's real strength emerges when you play it with someone else, comparing notes on the choices you made and the story branches you took. Seven hours in, you'll understand why Polites is already planning a second playthrough on Nintendo Switch 2, this time choosing the path he didn't take the first time.
Hell Is Us arrived on recommendation from a friend who called it the best game of 2025. Polites finished it but couldn't quite agree, though not because the game is bad. It's ambitious and uncompromising, tackling war, genocide, and vengeance with an unflinching eye. The design philosophy refuses to hold your hand—objectives arrive cryptically, and you're expected to learn the environment and figure out what to do. It plays closer to Nioh than Dark Souls, with a similar gearing system spread across several large levels rather than one connected world. The problem is enemy design: you face largely the same four enemies throughout, with minimal variation. That repetition wears on you, and the lack of real progression eventually dulls the experience. Yet there's something genuinely daring here, something that makes Polites curious about what Rogue Factor might do next. The game didn't make his best-of list, but the sequel could.
Arc Raiders found Polites mid-haircut, when his barber convinced him to try it. He's not a competitive shooter person—toxicity in online multiplayer turns him away—but this one felt different. It's an extraction shooter where you gather resources on the surface while being hunted by AI robots, then race back to a lift for extraction. The loop is clean and satisfying. You can steal from other players, but the game's penalty system apparently matches aggressive players with each other, leaving everyone else to cooperate. For the most part, that's exactly what happened. Polites watched strangers save him from robots and returned the favor. But every so often, someone would camp by the lift and pick him off anyway, a reminder that no system is perfect.
The problem is staying power. Arc Raiders' player base has dropped 80 percent from its peak, and Polites understands why. The game was a blast, but the randomness of loot and the absence of meaningful progression wore thin within a month. What it needs, in his view, is a story—something to give the carefully built world a reason to exist beyond the next extraction. Without narrative depth, even a well-designed loop eventually feels hollow.
Citas Notables
The dispatching minigame itself—one of the few moments where you're actually playing a game rather than watching one—turns out to be the weakest link.— Harrison Polites, on Dispatch
The game was a blast, but the randomness of loot and the absence of meaningful progression wore thin within a month.— Harrison Polites, on Arc Raiders
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
You mention playing Dispatch with someone else, comparing notes. Why does that matter so much more than playing alone?
Because the game is built around choices that branch the story. Playing solo, you get one path. Playing with someone else, you see the road you didn't take, and suddenly the game becomes a conversation about what you would have done differently. That's where the design really sings.
Hell Is Us sounds genuinely challenging, but you say the enemy design let you down. Isn't repetition sometimes part of what makes a game hard?
There's a difference between difficulty and monotony. A hard game can still surprise you. When you're facing the same four enemies for 20 hours, you're not being challenged anymore—you're just grinding. The game had so much to say thematically that the combat felt like it was getting in the way.
Arc Raiders dropped 80 percent of its players. Do you think a story mode would actually save it, or is that wishful thinking?
I think it would help, but maybe not save it entirely. The core loop is solid, but without progression or narrative stakes, you're asking players to find meaning in repetition. A story gives you a reason to care about the world you're extracting from.
You mention toxicity in competitive shooters. Did Arc Raiders actually feel different, or did the penalty system just hide it?
It genuinely felt different. I watched it happen—people helping each other, sharing resources. The system probably helped, but there was also something about the cooperative framing that seemed to set a tone. Most players bought into it.
What would you tell someone who only has time for one of these three?
Dispatch, without question. It's the most complete experience, and it respects your time. Seven hours, a story that lands, and you're done. The other two are worth playing, but Dispatch is the one that justifies the hours you spend.