Doom: The Dark Ages

The Doom Slayer is back, and this time he's gone positively medieval on demon-kind's collective behind. It's less of a gentle tap on the shoulder and more of a full-blown, chainmail-clad fist to the face.

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The Dark Ages takes that glorious, gore-soaked formula and yeets it back to a time when knights were bold, castles were... castley, and apparently, Hell had a timeshare. Forget your fancy Mars facilities and UAC blunders; this is a crusade against the underworld with a distinctly grittier, more... well, darker age vibe. Does it work? By the Slayer's inexplicably bulging biceps, it mostly does! Dark Ages actually tries to spin a yarn, and it's a more straightforward tale than its predecessors. We're talking more cutscenes, a narrative you can follow without a PhD in demonology, and a world where even the most nightmarish fiends seem to soil their loincloths at the mere mention of the Doom Slayer. You are, quite literally, a medieval wrecking ball crashing through a demonic house of cards. The power fantasy is turned up to eleven.