Rogue Factor’s Hell Is Us, published by Nacon, sets out to be more than just another action-adventure. From its opening moments, it’s clear that the game wants to challenge not only how you play but also how you reflect on humanity itself. Set in a war-torn country scarred by both civil strife and supernatural calamity, it blends an introspective narrative with a semi-open world where exploration is just as important as combat. It’s a bold ambition – and while the results are uneven, they’re never uninteresting and always captivating.
The story sits at the heart of Hell Is Us, and it thrives on ambiguity. You play as a protagonist wrestling with a troubled past, unraveling mysteries both personal and political against a backdrop of conflict. What works well is how the game refuses to spoon-feed you information. With no quest markers or glowing arrows, you’re left to interpret environmental cues and your own instincts, which gives exploration a genuinely organic feel. At times, this lack of guidance can veer into frustration, particularly for players used to more directed experiences, but the sense of discovery it fosters is rare in modern design.
Combat, meanwhile, is intimate and deliberately brutal. You wield weapons like swords, spears, and axes against supernatural chimeras – enemies immune to modern firearms. The melee focus makes encounters tense, forcing you to weigh patience, positioning, and timing. There’s a real weight to the animations, and the otherworldly design of the creatures adds menace. However, while the concept is strong, the execution sometimes struggles: the lock-on system can feel unreliable, and sometimes iffy hit detection occasionally undermines the tactical approach the game asks of you. The inclusion of a drone as a support tool is clever, but its limited utility means it feels more like a gimmick than an essential part of your arsenal.
One of Hell Is Us’ greatest strengths is its atmosphere. The environments are stark but striking, with abandoned villages, dense forests, and ruins that tell stories of their own. The artistic direction leans heavily into contrasts between beauty and devastation, which fits the themes of human conflict and cyclical violence. Audio design reinforces this mood: the soundtrack is sparse yet haunting, and the guttural sounds of combat lend a sense of unease. That said, technical performance isn’t flawless. Occasional stutters and inconsistent frame pacing can break immersion, and the visual fidelity doesn’t always match the strength of the art direction.
Where the game risks alienating some players is in its refusal to compromise on its vision. The absence of maps or clear objectives is admirable in concept, but it won’t be for everyone. Some will find it refreshingly liberating; others will see it as a barrier to enjoyment. The same is true of the narrative: its introspective tone and willingness to leave questions unanswered create depth, but they can also feel opaque and meandering.
Ultimately, Hell Is Us is a game of contrasts. It can be clunky but also captivating, opaque yet rewarding, frustrating and fascinating in equal measure. It’s not a mainstream crowd-pleaser, but rather an experience that thrives on making you feel lost – in both its world and its themes. For players willing to embrace that challenge, it can feel like one of the year’s most thought-provoking surprises. For others, its rough edges and deliberate opacity may prove too much of a barrier. Either way, it’s a game worth talking about.
Score: 8.0/10

