It’s pretty interesting to see how other people grapple with this question, as well as working with it myself. Initially I admit I jumped straight into “What did I play the most of?” In which case it would probably be something like Skyrim or Borderlands 2, though other heavily played games would include Mass Effect 2, Pillars of Eternity, or Slay the Spire. These are all great games, fantastic even, and I don’t regret spending (most) of the time spent playing them.
But then you listen to, or read how other people are figuring it: “Did the game challenge my prejudices as to what types of games I can enjoy?” “Did it have something interesting to say?” “Did it affect me emotionally?”
I never thought I was much of a “difficult game” player, or appreciator of puzzles, yet I genuinely enjoyed Dead Cells, Dark Souls, Opus Magnum, Hexcells, and Into The Breach. None of these belong to genres I had previously considered myself to have any skill in whatsoever. Despite this, I found myself getting some decent way with 2 boss cells, completing almost every puzzle in Opus Magnum, and having a serious bash at hard difficulty on ITB.
Despite it not getting a great reception, I found Tyranny to be one of my favourite examples of the genre. Each playthrough could be relatively short (in comparison to a full campaign of PoE or Baldurs Gate), but it was surprisingly replayable at the same time. There was something new to be discovered about the world and its characters each time you tried a different path (and there were what, 3? 4?).
Last decade also taught me that games can be incredibly emotionally affecting. Life Is Strange hit me so, so hard. I know the ending is somewhat contrived, but the writing, acting, direction, all come together to build a real sense of attachment to the characters and their lives. I honestly fucking agonised over the ending, and felt emotionally beaten up for a long time afterwards. Even now I daren’t go near Season 1 again. Whilst LIS built attachment to other people, Hellblade: Senua’s Sacrifice put me right inside (or very close to inside) the protagonist’s mind. I was sceptical of its ability to deal with ‘mental health,’ especially with how they made such a big deal out of it. However, reading accounts by others who have dealt with or were dealing with mental health issues encouraged me to give it a shot. As a fairly neurotypical man, I can’t attest to its authenticity but it gave me a powerful sense of isolation, fear, and paranoia in such a way that I felt connected, and empathetic towards Senua. In doing so, perhaps it leant me an additional sense of how some people feel in the depths of crises. This seems valuable to me.
So having considered all the above, it came as something of a surprise when going through my list of games played that one stood out strongly above all the others: Pyre. I’m questioning myself somewhat; am I picking this because I don’t think anyone else has and I want to be different? Then I look at everything about it. Consistent with Supergiant Games’ previous (and likely future work) it has incredible visual design, and the music is … it’s just so fucking good! It plays like nothing else I’ve played, and despite the basic premise of each match being the same it never gets stale. It’s a real shame that this never took off because I feel the potential of this as an esport is seriously underappreciated. It’s fast, it’s tense, it’s strategic and tactical, it’s tight and polished, and it’s easy to read as a spectator.
Yet all that serves primarily to support the narrative; one of working together, of resolving conflict, dealing with loss, and building a future. The cast is diverse, and I came to enjoy talking to my companions, and the writing was such that I could even respect some of the opponents (I think I even deliberately underplayed one match so as to let the other team win).
It is gorgeous, novel and challenging, heartwrenching and warming, and despite my having not played it for a tenth the time as many other games, I have to put Pyre forwards as my game of the decade.
Peace