[0:00] 2025 has been another year, and luckily I was 
able to play a bunch of video games throughout  
[0:05] it. As it has become tradition, that means 
it is time for me to talk about some of the  
[0:09] ways they had an effect on my life. In last year’s 
video, one of the main takeaways was that I didn’t  
[0:14] play anything that meant all that much to me. I 
enjoyed a bunch of games, but I didn’t connect  
[0:19] with any in the way I often do. While I largely 
assumed that this came from picking the wrong  
[0:23] games and also being in a weird headspace as I was 
navigating life with both a toddler and a newborn,  
[0:29] making it hard to process much of anything, a 
small part of me worried that my relationship  
[0:33] with games had fundamentally shifted. That this 
change was a part of me getting older—that I was  
[0:38] becoming less capable of finding experiences 
I resonate with on a deep personal level.
[0:44] And 2025 has proven that this was not the case.
[1:02] I don’t know that there’s been a single year of 
my life where I have played more titles that left  
[1:07] a profound impact on me than I did in this past 
one. Like there are multiple games that if I had I  
[1:12] played them in 2024, they probably would have been 
the primary focus of that video, but they kind of  
[1:17] get lost in the shuffle when put next to the many 
incredible experiences I had last year. It was one  
[1:23] of the most enjoyable years of playing games I've 
had in a long while, and I wanna talk about it.
[1:29] So, I’m going to start where I always do,  
[1:31] with the first game I played last year, 
which this time was Hypnospace Outlaw.
[1:43] Hypnospace Outlaw is the type of game where what 
would be considered the actual game part largely  
[1:48] is just a vehicle to get you to engage with lore. 
The player takes the role as a moderator of forums  
[1:55] and webpages that feel straight out of the 1990s, 
and this set up provides all the motivation needed  
[2:00] to scour every page for potential infractions. 
While finding these violations requires a good bit  
[2:06] of deduction, making them satisfying to discover, 
it is the actual contents of these pages that make  
[2:11] Hypnospace Outlaw a game I reflect on often and 
fondly. It presents an alluring representation  
[2:16] of the Old Internet; an era that I know is overly 
romanticised, but has an undeniable appeal all the  
[2:24] same. One of community, of sharing passion, 
of making art, all without the algorithmic  
[2:29] hand and financial incentive that defines the 
current internet. Every page is filled with so  
[2:35] much personality and explores the stories of the 
various characters in ways that feel shockingly  
[2:39] authentic. There is no shortage of media that 
cops the 90s aesthetic, but a lot of the time it  
[2:45] feels like a hollow imitation, one that coasts on 
the belief that doing stuff like reminding you of  
[2:50] the pattern on the side of those disposable cups 
will be enough to pull you in, but here there is  
[2:55] humanity behind everything. There’s a sincerity to 
even the most unhinged pages that makes the forums  
[3:02] feel like the kind of digital space people would 
want to be a part of. Honestly, the artistry on  
[3:07] display is on another level; whether it be 
writing, images, or music all of it weaves  
[3:12] together to make these webpages feel like an 
artifact of the past but with all the boring  
[3:16] parts shaved away—even the art that is meant 
to be quote unquote bad, is enjoyably bad.
[3:24] They pulled off a nearly impossible feat, and 
it really is something special. As a trademark  
[3:30] 90s kid, it's no real surprise that this game 
tapped into my nostalgia for that era, but  
[3:34] that’s not really why I enjoyed it. It did more 
than just remind me of the past. It elevated it.
[3:45] I had this same feeling with a couple other 
titles I played throughout the year. The first  
[3:49] being Burggeist; it’s a game that feels like 
it would have been right at home on the PS2,  
[3:54] but has design philosophies that are decidedly 
more modern than anything that actually would  
[3:58] have come out on the PS2. To my knowledge the 
developer Ghrian studios hasn’t specified what  
[4:04] games influenced Burggeist, instead pointing 
to things like history, animal behavior,  
[4:08] numerical sequence and oddly shaped rocks, 
and honestly all of that does show; however,  
[4:14] it feels like it takes cues from stuff like 
Shadow of the Colossus and Drakengard and even  
[4:18] Brutal Legend, leading to something entirely 
unique and surprisingly singular in vision. It  
[4:23] finds ways to meld these ideas that seem like they 
should never work together, and somehow nails it.
[4:28] The other game was Angeline Era.
[4:31] Through a chunky ps1/n64 aesthetic, it takes what 
seems like the most simple approach to combat,  
[4:38] that being bumping into enemies to attack, and 
creates all sorts of interesting levels and  
[4:43] encounters around it that brings far more depth 
to the mechanic than it has any business having.  
[4:49] The design is just so thoughtful. For instance, 
the majority of levels are made up of locked  
[4:53] rooms where you need to clear the encounter 
to move forward. As the game is pretty tough,  
[4:58] especially so if you’re on a higher difficulty, 
there’s a good chance you’ll die a bunch, setting  
[5:03] you back to the start of the level, and making you 
do it all over. It's a runback of sorts which I  
[5:08] know people have opinions on, but what works about 
it here in terms of avoiding the frustration that  
[5:13] can come from this type of setup is that unlocking 
the door to the next room doesn’t require killing  
[5:18] every single enemy—instead each encounter has 
a specific clear condition, generally tied to  
[5:23] taking out a much smaller fraction of the enemies. 
So with every attempt you’re not just figuring out  
[5:28] how to better position yourself in order to not 
take damage, but also what the criteria is to  
[5:33] unlock the way forward. It adds a new layer of 
thought to every room, keeping these runbacks  
[5:40] from becoming tedious. Not to mention, once you’ve 
played enough, you’ll start to recognize sort of  
[5:45] themes and patterns, making it possible to predict 
what might clear the way, and when you’re able to  
[5:50] do this on a first time through a level, it feels 
incredible. It's an elegant approach to difficulty  
[5:55] and failure as it tests both the player’s skill as 
well as their knowledge. This makes it so having  
[6:00] to replay some sections feels far more palatable 
as there are multiple ways to improve and the  
[6:05] success almost always comes from an increase 
in the player as opposed to the character.  
[6:11] Angeline Era is filled with playful design like 
this that rewards players for noticing things.
[6:17] As Giovanni Colantonio put it in his piece on 
Angeline Era, “The result is a rare “retro”  
[6:21] game that actually plays the way I remember old 
games feeling, even though it’s nothing like them  
[6:26] at all.” In my experience this felt true with 
Angeline Era, Burggeist, and Hypnospace Outlaw.  
[6:31] Each of them harnesses an aesthetic from the past 
to set players expectations, and then deploys game  
[6:37] design ideas that do not draw specifically from 
a single title from those eras but instead from  
[6:42] many, many titles, and many, many ideas where you 
may be able to see some sources of inspiration,  
[6:47] but would struggle to really say it is just like 
one specific thing. It is not uncommon for indie  
[6:53] games to look like retro games or even feel 
like retro games, but to Colantonio’s point,  
[6:58] it is rare for them to make you feel the way you 
did when playing old games or when living in old  
[7:04] times. It is the familiar inside of something 
fresh, and it reminds me of how much I love video  
[7:14] games. Not just playing them, but thinking 
about them. Of seeing creative spins on old  
[7:20] ideas that prove that we are really just at the 
beginning of what games can be. Not to mention,  
[7:24] these three games were made by relatively small 
teams—and to be clear I am not saying that to  
[7:29] demonize games with far bigger ones, but to point 
out that there are many ways to make a game,  
[7:33] and that a team with a strong creative 
vision that learns to master limitations  
[7:38] and iterate in unexpected ways can create 
some of the most compelling art out there.
[7:43] Throughout 2025, I continued the trend 
I started the year before of getting  
[7:47] more into multiplayer games as playing stuff 
with other people, as it turns out, is fun.  
[7:52] I finally got around to It Takes Two with my 
Wife, which maybe will be a video some day,  
[7:58] but at the very least it was just fun to watch 
her adjust to the evershifting nature of that  
[8:02] game. I established a game night with a couple 
of my friends that I’ve known since we were kids,  
[8:07] and it has been such a welcome routine in my life. 
I don’t think that when we were 10 years old,  
[8:12] playing melee in my parent’s basement, we 
ever would have expected to still be doing  
[8:16] some version of that nearly 25 years later, and 
so it has been a great joy that we have. Now  
[8:22] with the wide spread of games I’ve played with 
them as well as with other friends, there is  
[8:27] one title that really defines my multiplayer 
year, and that was Elden Ring: Nightreign.
[8:32] Nightreign is a weird kind of good. In a lot of 
ways it feels messy, which is understandable as  
[8:39] it smashes together a bunch of stuff from older 
FromSoft titles and uses the fortnite storm to  
[8:44] tie it all together. It’s a testament to how 
fun the combat is and varied the options are  
[8:49] in Elden Ring that Nightreign stays as enjoyable 
for as long as it does. After my first few runs,  
[8:55] I figured I’d play it until beating all the bosses 
once or twice and then never picking it up again,  
[8:59] however, at this point I got all of the 
achievements around the 30 hour mark,  
[9:04] and have put in 70 hours since then, and frankly 
I feel like I have a lot of runs still left in me.
[9:11] And of course, a big part of it is the 
people I got to play with. There was just  
[9:15] a ton of interest in it from people in my 
wider circle of friends and acquaintances,  
[9:21] so along with my game night group, I played with 
so many different people, ranging from friends I  
[9:26] play stuff with all the time to folks I’ve long 
known but have never really been in a voice call  
[9:30] with before to friends of friends, and I loved 
it. Meeting new people and seeing my friends from  
[9:36] different circles merge brought me a ton of joy. 
I also loved helping people get through the game,  
[9:42] and really that has been a big motivating factor 
to keep playing. I still have people I wanna beat  
[9:48] all the bosses with. There’s something about 
seeing the game click for new players—watching  
[9:53] them go from being overwhelmed by the scope and 
time limit to making calls of where to go next.  
[9:59] It’s been a special game to learn and teach, and 
one that I am still shocked FromSoft decided to  
[10:04] make. While hanging out with friends and meeting 
new people doesn’t have to be tied to the pretext  
[10:09] of playing a game, having something to rally 
around does seem to make doing both more likely,  
[10:14] and it’s been awhile since I’ve played something 
that does that as effectively as Nightreign.
[10:19] One thing that’s been interesting for me is given 
the amount of time I put into Nightreign as well  
[10:24] as other titles that roughly could be described 
as roguelites, 2025 was the year where I finally  
[10:29] had to admit to myself that despite always saying 
I am not a huge fan of roguelites, I am actually  
[10:34] a pretty huge fan of roguelites. Ravenswatch 
provided a satisfying co-op experience with plenty  
[10:39] of cool synergies to experiment with. Absolum 
mixed roguelite structure with a beat 'em up,  
[10:44] which honestly just makes too much sense, and 
I am surprised I have not seen far more games  
[10:48] use this combination. Blue Prince created an 
ever expanding puzzlebox that I don’t know if I  
[10:53] will ever be able to fully solve, but a part of 
me will always want to. And Hades 2 took nearly  
[10:57] every system from the first game and found a way 
to elevate them, and while it does end up being  
[11:03] a bit messier than its predecessor especially in 
regards to its narrative, it still had my brain  
[11:08] buzzing for dozens of hours. I know that the 
genre has moved so, so far away from its roots,  
[11:14] but in doing so, developers have found tons 
of interesting ways to iterate on the core  
[11:19] concepts and combine them with other established 
genres, leading to wildly compelling systems that  
[11:24] I have been able to connect with more than 
the ones in traditional roguelites. Frankly,  
[11:28] this kind of was the year of connecting to genres 
I often struggle to connect to; maybe the best  
[11:34] example can be seen with how much I fell in 
love with the open-world of Cyberpunk 2077.
[11:42] I’ll be honest, I am still a bit surprised that I 
like 2077 as much as I do. I imagine a big part of  
[11:49] that comes from expectations—for the longest 
time, my only exposure to it was hearing how  
[11:54] terrible it was. That it was broken beyond just 
being buggy. Even as CDPR updated the game and  
[12:00] the conversation around it began to shift, a part 
of me still expected it to kinda suck. It’s just  
[12:06] so rare to bring a game back from the brink like 
that. Not to mention the cyberpunk setting isn’t  
[12:11] one I’m all that interested in, so it was easy 
to feel like it would never be a game for me.  
[12:18] But then it was. Something about Night City felt 
different from any video game world I had been in  
[12:24] before. The density, the detail, the depth—it felt 
material; it felt substantive. I’ve played a lot  
[12:31] of video games, plenty of which have impressive 
worlds that strive to create a sense of realism,  
[12:37] but none of them have felt real to me in the 
way Night City did. And it isn’t because it  
[12:42] has a strict adherence to realism—plenty 
of other games do far more on that front.  
[12:47] It’s more that it is so overwhelming in scope, 
from the size of skyscrapers to the mess of roads  
[12:53] to the number of pedestrians to the limits of 
the city, that it becomes easy to fall for the  
[12:59] illusion it aims to set up. One of it being a real 
place where you are the tiniest part of it. And  
[13:06] this illusion is bolstered in some surprising 
ways. For instance, nearly every building can  
[13:11] be scaled and parkoured across; they are not just 
things to fill the skybox. In Night City, whether  
[13:23] you’re at the top or the bottom, so much of it 
feels considered. Of course, there are gaps; it’s  
[13:29] far from perfect, but there is a solidity to the 
city that made it so I couldn’t help but buy in.
[13:35] I talked about it in a video earlier this year, 
but a trap I find myself falling into regularly  
[13:40] is relying too much on mechanical motivation. 
I have trouble engaging with parts of a title  
[13:45] that don’t necessarily build to something 
bigger; that don’t fold in with the other  
[13:49] mechanics all that cleanly, but with 2077, I 
didn’t struggle in that way at all. I didn’t  
[13:56] need any convincing to be in this world. To 
explore it, to engage with it, to take my  
[14:02] time being in it. I didn’t fast travel a single 
time, instead opting to ride my bike everywhere,  
[14:07] weaving between traffic as the lights of the 
city flashed by; I often called V’s friends to  
[14:12] help pass the time on longer trips. I found the 
city so alluring, so overwhelming, and so there  
[14:24] that I couldn’t help but appreciate every minute I 
spent in it. And look it does plenty of the things  
[14:29] that normally pull me out of an experience—the 
biggest being its story that calls for urgency,  
[14:34] despite that urgency not actually mattering. But 
I was fine to live with some of that dissonance.  
[14:40] To even try to headcanon my way of it—if these 
were Vs final days to live, my final days to live,  
[14:47] I was going to live them deliberately. I 
connected to the world, and that made it all  
[14:53] that much easier to connect to everything within 
it, to empathize deeply with characters I kind of  
[14:58] assumed I would never care about. I not only fell 
in love with a game that I never expected to love,  
[15:04] but I also love it for reasons I never expected 
to matter so much to me. I’ve always found a title  
[15:09] having a real sense of place to be an important 
aspect, but typically as a supporting piece,  
[15:14] not the primary one, and so it was refreshing to 
experience it the other way around. To forgive  
[15:20] things that are often dealbreakers for me due to 
the excellence of an element I tend to look past.
[15:26] After finishing Cyberpunk 2077, I planned 
to play some shorter games to refresh  
[15:31] my palette a bit as the idea of jumping 
into something else all that substantial,  
[15:36] especially another RPG seemed like it’d be 
exhausting, but then out of nowhere this  
[15:41] game called Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 came 
out, and the next month of my life was gone.
[15:50] About a month before playing Clair Obscur: 
Expedition 33, I turned 34. Thankfully, as  
[15:56] I began the game and the gommage claimed everyone 
my age, I did not dissolve into petals. Instead,  
[16:02] this moment, as well as the wider concept acted 
as one of the most intriguing hooks I’ve ever  
[16:07] seen in a game. The initial question Clair Obscur 
explores, that of how should one live their life  
[16:13] in a world that is fading away is one that makes 
my mind burn. As individuals we accept that one  
[16:20] day there will not be a tomorrow for us, but 
the silver lining in that comes from the ways  
[16:25] we live on through those we love, through the 
things we make, through the change we bring;  
[16:30] but what if all of that is slowly ticking away as 
well? For Gustave, the members of his expedition,  
[16:36] as well as those of expeditions past, the answer 
is to find a way to make things easier for their  
[16:41] successors. To bring them a step closer 
to stopping the Paintress. They fight for  
[16:46] a future they can’t even really envision but 
will die in the hopes that it can come to pass.
[16:51] I found this energy to be irresistible. 
Everytime someone said For Those Who  
[16:57] Come After or Tomorrow Comes, I couldn’t help but 
echo them under my breath. As it is a video game,  
[17:02] I figured that one way or another this would 
be the final expedition, but I still approached  
[17:07] it all with the hope of bringing about 
something better for the next generation.
[17:12] Of course, Clair Obscur ends up 
being about more than just this.  
[17:15] It explores purpose and existence from many 
different angles that stray far away from  
[17:20] the initial conceit, and while those explorations 
are interesting and effective in their own ways,  
[17:25] the ideas introduced at the start are 
what really made the game matter to me.
[17:30] As I’ve gotten older, the way I view the future 
has shifted. For so long I saw it as something I  
[17:36] would inherit, and in some ways I still do. 34 
feels much younger than I expected 34 to feel,  
[17:42] and with any luck there is significantly more 
future ahead of me than there is past behind,  
[17:47] but also I now see the future as something 
to steward. To keep safe for those who come  
[17:53] after. I’ve felt this way for awhile, but 
obviously having kids has escalated it to  
[17:58] new levels. Clair Obscur is compelling on so 
many different fronts, but it was this ethos,  
[18:03] this dedication to making sure Tomorrow Comes 
that got me to care so quickly and so fully.
[18:09] Because sometimes the only way to overcome 
the impossible is through years and years  
[18:14] of consistent actions that add up until 
it doesn’t seem so impossible any more.
[18:20] Speaking of which, on September 4th, 
2025 Hollow Knight: Silksong released.
[18:25] Given the amount of time that has passed since 
its initial announcement, I grew beyond having  
[18:30] any sort of expectations for the game. I pretty 
much entirely stopped thinking about what it  
[18:35] might be like and instead only thought about it 
through the lens of being a running bits, whether  
[18:40] it was reposting my Pain of Waiting thumbnail, 
or ending every one of these yearly videos  
[18:44] with some variation of “here’s to hoping Silksong 
actually comes out this year” and I’ll be honest,  
[18:50] when I said it in the last video, I did not 
expect that this would be the year. I figured it  
[18:55] would largely be more Hollow Knight, and in some 
ways it is although far less so than I expected,  
[19:02] and it differs in surprising and welcome ways. 
They didn’t just take the Knight and add more—they  
[19:07] took Hornet, adapted her to make sense as a 
protagonist, and built everything around that.  
[19:16] And so it walks this line of both feeling like a 
natural progression of Hollow Knight through its  
[19:20] general approach to aesthetics and world design, 
as well as feeling like its own thing. It operates  
[19:25] at a completely different speed than Hollow 
Knight, and while this took a bit to get used to,  
[19:30] once I did, I never looked back. Regardless of 
whether or not it was the game I expected or  
[19:36] thought I wanted, it ended up being the one that 
I needed. It not only resonated with me more than  
[19:41] its predecessor, but more than almost any other 
game I can think of. There certainly is a chance  
[19:47] that the shine of recency will wear off and my 
opinion on it will dim a bit, but right now, it is  
[19:52] in that top 5 zone. I relished every opportunity I 
got to get better at the movement and the combat,  
[19:58] which is to say I was always relishing as the 
two are so often are paired together; I basked  
[20:04] in getting truly and utterly lost, refusing to use 
the compass because I wanted to really know my way  
[20:09] through Pharloom, and by the end I did; I found 
assurance in Hornet’s strength of personality,  
[20:14] her insistence on imposing her will on the 
world despite how treacherous and powerful that  
[20:19] world may be, and refusing to let it happen the 
other way around. Really, this last part is the  
[20:25] one that surprised me the most. Hollow Knight’s 
narrative primarily exists just below the surface,  
[20:30] but Silksong’s stands in the forefront. Hornet 
has purpose, and she makes that known. Through  
[20:36] her and her observations, the game explores the 
effect of power, whether it be from structures  
[20:41] or individuals, and I never thought I’d be so 
inspired by the confidence of a little bug—I  
[20:47] never thought I would need to be so inspired by 
the confidence of a little bug, but here we are.
[20:56] Over this past year, I’ve dabbled a bit 
with doomerism. I’m not proud of it,  
[21:02] but it regularly seeps into my thoughts. 
Never before in my life have I seen  
[21:07] more pieces of news where it was hard to 
think anything other than “it’s so over.”
[21:12] To be clear, I don’t really think that it 
is. Or at least, I can’t really think it  
[21:17] is because…I just can’t. However, we are in the 
midst of an era of great consequence socially,  
[21:23] economically, and technologically, 
and those who are at the helm,  
[21:26] those that have the most power to dictate how 
the next 20 years will go, are the people I  
[21:31] trust the least to act in the collective us’s 
best interest proven by how they never do.
[21:37] And so maybe it isn’t a surprise that the 
three games I connected to most last year  
[21:41] explored what it takes to survive within an 
ultra-capitalistic hellscape in its latest  
[21:46] stage, what we are left with when each passing 
generation has less of a future than the last,  
[21:51] and how the stubborn and careless use of absolute 
power decays a society from the top down.
[21:57] It’s sometimes good to be seen by 
the things you play. I think a lot  
[22:00] about games as a form of escapism, and 
what always has been the case for me,  
[22:05] what it always seems to come back to with 
the Games That Get Me Through The Year,  
[22:08] is that the ones that bring me the most relief 
aren’t the ones that make me forget everything;  
[22:12] they’re the ones that help me process it 
all in a way that doesn’t feel as heavy.  
[22:16] In a way that doesn’t feel as impossible. In 
a way that doesn’t feel like it’s so over.
[22:22] Because thinking that it’s over is useless. 
It doesn’t help anyone. Despair is easy,  
[22:28] and those who wield it as a weapon know 
this. The goal is to make it all seem  
[22:32] like an impossible machine for any individual 
to do anything about it, but it's not about  
[22:37] any individual doing everything; it’s 
about many individuals doing something.
[22:42] It is about community, and reminders of this are 
what get me through each day, whether they come  
[22:48] from watching my kids grow up, and witnessing the 
ways they are loved not just by me and my wife,  
[22:53] but by family and friends and teachers, all of 
whom have played a part in shaping who they are  
[22:58] now and who they will be one day. Or from seeing 
people rally together, like those in Minneapolis  
[23:03] who have engaged not just in protest and 
fundraising but also in a level of dedicated local  
[23:08] mutual aid unlike anything I’ve seen before in my 
life, or even from playing as a bug who discovers  
[23:14] that despite there being no quick and clean way to 
undo the rot of corruption, the best path forward  
[23:19] is and will always be helping those who need 
it and be willing to accept help from them too.
[23:25] There are many reasons to want to despair, and 
so it has been important for me to do everything  
[23:31] I can to find even more reasons to not. It 
doesn’t matter where they come from—it just  
[23:36] matters that they do. That instead of feeling 
paralyzed by the inability to fix everything,  
[23:41] I have the clarity to focus on 
the ways I can do something.
[23:45] I needed games in 2025 in a way that I don’t 
think I have in a long time—maybe ever. And what  
[23:53] surprised me is that they met the moment. Frankly, 
I probably willed them to meet the moment. Playing  
[24:00] them and talking about them made me feel human. 
What’s more is that instead of simply distracting  
[24:06] me from the pervasive sense of existential dread 
that is just a part of my life now, they helped me  
[24:11] refocus; they made tackling everything else feel 
easier. I get the sense 2026 will be the same way.
[24:19] Like, always, I do not know 
what this next year will bring.  
[24:22] I have my hopes and I have my fears, 
but neither truly matter that much. What  
[24:27] does matter is that it isn’t over. It’s 
never over. So here’s to the new year,  
[24:35] and remembering that Hollow Knight: Silksong 
actually came out, so anything is possible.
[24:43] Reflecting on my year in gaming is something I 
look forward to every single year, and I also look  
[24:49] forward to hearing other people’s thoughts on the 
stuff they’ve played and what it means to them.  
[24:53] With that in mind, I thought it’d be fun to have 
a recorded conversation with two of the people I  
[24:57] talk about games with the most, Iron Pineapple 
and Yakkocmn, where we discuss our thoughts on  
[25:03] gaming in 2025. We talked about our games of 
the year, our not so obvious games of the year,  
[25:08] more granular stuff like favorite mechanics and 
moments from games we played last year, and even  
[25:12] our hater take of the year. If you’re interested 
in the conversation, you can watch it right now  
[25:17] over on Nebula. I’ve talked about it before and 
will again, but Nebula is a big part of why I get  
[25:22] to do the things I do. It supports the work of 
tons of incredible creators, many of whom are in  
[25:27] the gaming space like Jacob Geller, Game Maker’s 
Toolkit, Eurothug4000 among many others, and  
[25:32] provides various opportunities for those 
people to create great stuff. For instance,  
[25:36] KingK’s series Masterful Mimicry where he 
delves into the artistic and historical  
[25:42] influences of various games. He’s covered Okami, 
Silksong, and most recently Cuphead. In general,  
[25:49] there is a ton of exclusive content over on 
Nebula, and even a fair bit made by me. Along  
[25:55] with the conversation I had with Pine and Yakko, 
I’ve put out a dozen or so videos you can only  
[26:00] watch over there, so if you’d like to check them 
out, you can go to nebula.tv/razbuten or click the  
[26:05] link in the description to get 50% off for the 
year, coming out to 2 and a half bucks a month.  
[26:09] If you really love the idea of Nebula, right 
now you can get a lifetime subscription which  
[26:13] is normally a one-time payment of $500 for just 
$300 dollars. You even can gift monthly, yearly,  
[26:19] or lifetime memberships. Nebula is a massive 
pillar of support for myself and all of the  
[26:26] creators on there so I appreciate you all for 
listening to my yap about it for a bit. Anyway,  
[26:30] go check out my conversation with Pine 
and Yakko, as well as Masterful Mimicry  
[26:33] and everything else the site has to offer. 
Thanks to Nebula for sponsoring this video.
[26:38] For all of you still here, hi. Hello. 
Thanks to my patrons for making this  
[26:43] possible. It makes all this easier. It makes 
all this better. I appreciate you. And yeah,  
[26:47] I don't know. Have a good day and 
or night. I hope you're well. I  
[26:50] hope your New Year is going okay. 
Take care of yourself, okay? Bye.