Rating: ★★★★ Very Good

For us, the game's rating is not mathematics, it’s not the sum of ten different categories into some generic number. We look at the impression. That feeling when you close the game, sit on the couch, make yourself a coffee (or a shot of rakija, I don’t judge) and ask yourself: “Hey, did this make sense? Did the game teach me something? Did it move me?”
That’s exactly what we look at. The overall picture.

And Duskpunk… Duskpunk really surprised me… but pleasantly!

Development Studio: Clockwork Bird, James Paton

Publisher: Clockwork Bird

Platforms: PC

Release Date: November 19, 2025.

Platform on which the game was tested: PC

Starting Price: 19.99 euros

Gameplay / Mechanics 

I must admit, until a couple of weeks ago, Duskpunk looked to me like a cheap copy of Disco Elysium. And Disco Elysium is a game that literally changed my view of the world. I played it in early 2020, during the worst mental period of my life. 

Whirling in Rags pierced me directly in the soul, and Kim Kitsuragi became my best friend whom I never met. It set a standard for me. If you want to be a narrative RPG – measure yourself against that.

That’s why I was skeptical about Duskpunk.

Too many similarities in presentation, too much “oh, look this could be like Disco.”

And then I started the game, and more or less immediately got such a narrative slap that I had to lean back in my chair.

I was wrong. I was very wrong.

Duskpunk is not a copy.

The mechanics are simple, but never stupid. It doesn’t pretend to be something it’s not. This is a game that throws a 2D map of Dredgeport on the table, a few actions per day, and your ability to make the most out of minimalism. It’s precisely those limitations that provide a special thrill; it’s as if the game says: “Here are eight steps, now go and try to make a miracle out of that.”

 And the cool thing is that a miracle really happens. Moving through the city via click choices and rolling dice sounds dry in theory, but in practice, the feeling of control and tension is brutal because every move matters, every click has weight, and every die that rolls wrong can cost you both progress and nerves.

That combination of simple rules and high stakes creates an almost tabletop rhythm. You feel like you're playing an RPG campaign in a basement with a crew, just without the smell of beer and chips. The skill system is intuitive, yet deep enough to push you towards specialization. You can't be everything, and you shouldn't be everything, because the game gives you scenarios that you can solve in a hundred ways, but not all at once. And that's why every time you manage to pass a check that was right on the edge of possibility, you feel that little victory, that "oh s***, I did it!" that drives you forward. You know that moment when your heart skips a beat? Yeah, like that.

The best part: nothing drags. The pace is just right. Slow enough to soak in the atmosphere, fast enough to keep you from falling asleep. The only thing that sometimes hits me is when I realize I've spent the whole day on three wrong decisions because I thought I’d be smart.

And that’s a sign of good mechanics: it’s intuitive, but it doesn’t coddle you. It constantly balances on a thin line between accessible and challenging, and very few games maintain that balance so well.

Duskpunk doesn’t try to be Disco Elysium, but it isn’t ashamed to look it in the eye. It respects it, learns from it, but goes its own way. And that’s a mechanic worth praising.

Story / narration

This is where I was most afraid. Literally afraid.

Disco Elysium is one of those games that came to me at just the right moment in my life and emotionally glued me to it, like some anchor point in the madness of 2020, and I really thought Duskpunk would just be a cheap attempt to replicate that feeling. And man, was I wrong. Horribly wrong. Duskpunk doesn’t try to be the “new Disco.”

It goes in a completely different direction, rawer, more bitter, but incredibly honest. The story doesn’t drown you in endless philosophizing, but builds you up through decisions, relationships, and the space you move in. You are nobody and nothing, just a former soldier mistakenly declared dead. And then slowly, bit by bit, the city begins to reveal its origins, its wounds, its dirt, and its beauty.

The strongest moments are when you realize that the characters are not caricatures. They are miserable, broken, full of anger and hope; each of them life-credibly convincing. There’s no hyperproduction of dialogue, although some are really annoying, especially with Henry and the crew, they can be quite cringe, but generally it’s okay.

You feel hunger, you feel fear, you feel the injustice of a society crumbling before your eyes. And then comes the moment when you have to decide who you are. Are you a rebel? Are you an opportunist? Are you someone who just wants to survive?

Duskpunk doesn’t tell you what’s right. It gives you a world and says: “Here, choose.”

I admit, some choices hurt me a bit more than they should have, because I literally betrayed all my friends, but that’s exactly the feeling I get only when a story hits right in the chest.

Originality / freshness of ideas

I admit, at first glance it looks like a mix of 2–3 games you already know. But then you realize that it's the wrong way of thinking. Duskpunk does something that few RPG titles manage, taking a tabletop core and turning it into a fully functional, digital narrative, but without the illusion that you are in a 3D world. There’s no wandering around, no fashion faux pas, no unnecessary animations. There’s a city map. There’s a dice-rolling system. 

There’s a limited number of actions. And despite that, the world feels larger, breathes more layered and lively than many games that swear they offer “full freedom.”

The most original moment is the way it combines resources like health, stress, and endurance with moral decisions and choices. Everything is interconnected.

If you’re too tired, you can’t hold a meaningful conversation. If you’re too stressed, your skills break down. If you don’t eat, everything goes downhill. And when you combine all that with narrative branches, Duskpunk gets a specific, unique flavor that never turns into dry survival, yet maintains a constant sense of pressure. 

That combination was something new to me, and, surprisingly, brutally effective.

Simulation / World Convincingness

This is the part where the game catches you without you even noticing. Dredgeport is a fictional city, but it feels like a real place. There are no generic streets, no clean and tidy neighborhoods – everything is damaged, cramped, wet, full of smoke and the smell of decay. 

The city looks like it could exist somewhere between the 19th century and some dark steampunk WW1 atmosphere. Everything logically connects to one another. People are tired because they work too much. Rebels are frustrated because the mechanisms of power constantly stifle change. The state apparatus is cold, cruel, and functional, just enough to intimidate, but not destroy all hope.

The world reacts to you. Your decisions have consequences in the narrative, but also in the way certain locations and characters behave. There’s nothing worse than returning to the neighborhood where you recently sparked a rebellion, and people look at you with distrust. 

Or when you inadvertently helped the authorities, and then the rebels start perceiving you as a problem. These small changes make the simulation feel real – the city is not there to be a backdrop, but a co-player.

Visual Impression

The style is fantastic. Literally fantastic. It doesn’t try to be realistic — that would kill the entire atmosphere, but uses an illustrated, somewhat rough, somewhat melancholic design that reminds of European comics. 

Every location looks as if it were hand-drawn, with dark shadows, dirty facades, and tiny details that create the impression of a decaying yet enchanting dystopian city. There are no inflated effects; everything is measured and serves the story.

Once, it took me just five minutes to look at the map and imagine how the city breathes. In Duskpunk, the aesthetics are not just "pretty," but carry emotion. They let you know that you are in a world that has long lost its color but still fights for a piece of light. It is art that does not scream but whispers.

Audio / sound

The sounds in this game do not exist to prove themselves but to creep into your head. The music is somewhat sad, depressing, dystopian, with a dose of industrial rhythms that remind you that you are in a city crumbling under the weight of its own history. And then, here and there, a wistful melody appears to remind you that there is still hope in this hell.

The effects are discreet but hit hard. Steps on wet stone, the creak of old doors, distant sounds of machines… it’s all there. The atmosphere is so thick that you could cut it with a knife.

Replay value and additional content

This is a game that compels you to play it at least once more. Trust me, I’ve completed it 3 times.

Not because it forces you, but because you know that the second time you could take a completely different path. When you realize how many branches there are, how many decisions can change the tone of the game, and how relationships with characters can go in unexpected directions, you simply get that urge: Let’s try again, but this time I’ll be a little different… maybe more of a rebel, maybe more of an opportunist, maybe I’ll be good, maybe I’ll be a pig.

DLCs will, apparently, further expand the city and mechanics in the future, which is a perfect fit for this type of game. If they happen, and I hope they do.

Value for money

Realistically? More than fair. Duskpunk offers hours and hours of content, a story that hits harder than you expect, a system that is deep but not overwhelming, and an atmosphere rarely seen. There are no empty additions, no inflated promises. If you love narrative RPGs, this is an investment that pays off multiple times.

Final rating: 

★★★★ Very good

Duskpunk is brutal, emotional, intelligent, and incredibly well-written. And most importantly — it is sincere. For me personally, it’s almost a similar feeling to the first time I heard Whirling in Rags in Disco Elysium. This is a new, unique, fantastic story that is worth playing.

A copy of the game for review purposes was provided by the publisher, the development studio Clockwork Bird