Whilst your protagonist has one-liners during levels, they’re generic in every instance. Failing a mission and regenerating back in the chamber sees you berated for your failures by Dr. None of them added any personality during my playthrough. There are robotic bosses after you as you gain notoriety, levelling up as you beat missions. Not every game needs to hammer home a motive and while it doesn’t detract from the presentation, it makes it much easier to bounce off knowing there was nothing at stake. Which is kind of the gist without giving the “story” away too much. Your mission is as unclear as a gambler hat-wearing, steel hockey mask-wielding Cowdroyd you just do as you’re told. Finkel is cursing the “Luddites” that ever doubted he could create such a thing. The secret ingredient to your creation is rabid rat flesh, as told by your creator Dr. You awaken out of a chamber in a lab on Exile Keep, assembled by mechanical parts and bio tissue in a human form. The game welcomes you to a futuristic version of the Wild West. It enticed me by the premise and trailer alone, and while Dust & Neon isn’t just snake oil – it’s not quite the smoking gun either. Roguelites, twin-stick shooters and steampunk are buzzwords that will entice a fair chunk of an audience. It ticks a lot of boxes for indie staples of the current generation. Ask someone what they’d love to make as a first game, chances are at the centre of the Venn diagram you’d see Dust & Neon. With that context in mind, as I’m writing this review, it starts to put some of my mental gymnastics of the game’s decisions into place. The Finger Guns review:ĭust & Neon is the first release from David Marquardt Studios.

A twin-stick shooting, roguelite tootin’ Cyber-Western that spent too much time at the saloon.

Dust and Neon instal the new