de los mejores juegos que he jugado, esperando con ansias el 2,grcias por esta joya oculta

I don't know, for a game that's described as this vast and complex sandbox where you can do anything, there sure is little incentive to do anything at all. In the standard start, you are plopped into a dead-ish little village where you basically can't afford anything other than food and bed.I was really looking forward to exploring around, seeing if I can find a person to help or someone to follow, a cause to join, but apparently that's not a part of the game. There are mercenaries who want you to hire them, but there are no opportunities for yourself to offer your services to anyone else. In a game that bases its marketing on you being equal to the npcs and not a "chosen one" character, that's extremely contradictory. You are the chosen one, because you're the only character that seems to act on their own. I found a faction that called themselves the Shinobi Thieves and thought they would be my saving, that they would give me a story to create, a cause to join. But alas, all you get is "So you want to become a Shinobi Thief hehe?" You can't even ask what the hell that means. It doesn't matter that "all NPCs have their own lives" if you can't even talk to the majority of ****'s supposedly a good and huge sandbox that gives you loads of tools to create your own narrative, but honestly the seams of this simulation are so easy to ripple and see through that I felt I was better off refunding. I know I played a very short time, but after fully exploring the starting location, there was nothing to engage with. If I were to "create my own narrative", it would all be in my head, not in the game.

Kenshi feels less like a traditional video game and more like a forgotten chronicle buried beneath sand and rust. It does not hand you a story. It gives you a world dense enough for stories to emerge naturally from failure, survival, fear, obsession, and **** will lose. Repeatedly. You will be beaten, enslaved, starved, abandoned in the dust, stripped of your limbs, your plans, and your confidence. And yet, for reasons difficult to explain, you continue walking through its wastelands.Because Kenshi is not truly about victory. It is about transformation.Little by little, the game stops confronting you with enemies and begins confronting you with yourself: your impatience, your greed, your pride, your inability to let go, your desperate need to survive one more day. Every mistake becomes part of your history. Every scar becomes **** world is harsh, strange, poetic, and almost completely indifferent to your existence. Cities feel temporary. Factions rise and decay without caring whether you live or die. The silence of its deserts carries a weight that few games ever **** somehow, within that brutality, Kenshi creates something rare: genuine attachment. Not through scripted heroism, but through the fragile stories you create yourself. A starving drifter becomes a leader. A mutilated survivor becomes a legend. A ruined outpost slowly becomes a city.Very few games trust the player enough to be this unforgiving, this opaque, and this free. Kenshi does. And that is precisely why it stays with you long after you stop playing.