Kiborg

A wise warrior turns his own body into a weapon.
A fool keeps swinging the same rusty blade and wonders why nothing changes.
This old Sensei has ripped enough metal out of screaming mutants to know the difference.

KIBORG puts you in the boots of Morgan Lee — big guy, thick mustache, wrongfully handed a 1,300-year sentence on the worst prison planet in the galaxy. Death doesn’t free you here. They just rebuild you and toss you back in. The only real way out is winning a twisted reality show called The Last Ticket. Climb the tower. Reach the shuttle on the roof. Get free… or die and start over.

It’s a roguelite beat-’em-up with guns mixed in. Short runs, usually twenty to thirty minutes once you know what you’re doing. You clear rooms packed with cyber-criminals, mutants, mechanized soldiers, and whatever else the prison decided to throw at you that day. Melee feels chunky and satisfying when the hits land. Guns are there when the room gets too crowded. You can slide, block, parry, and spin your way out of trouble. It’s not the deepest combat system you’ll ever play, but it feels good enough that you keep wanting one more room.

The real meat is in the cybernetic implants. Kill the right enemies and you can rip parts straight out of their bodies and slot them into yourself — arms, legs, heart, spine, head, the works. Different combinations completely change how a run plays. One setup turns you into a lightning-charged thunder god that teleports and shocks everything nearby. Another leans hard into guns and drones. Mutations throw in extra twists, sometimes with real downsides. When a synergy clicks it feels nasty in the best way. This is where the game shows the most life.

Between runs you dump the scrap you collected into a big permanent skill tree. More health. More damage. Better starting options. Tower upgrades so the vendors stop handing you garbage. Classic roguelite progression. Nothing revolutionary, but it works and makes failed climbs feel like they still moved you forward.

The blood is thick and the game doesn’t pretend otherwise. Heads come off. Limbs fly. Sparks and fluid everywhere. It knows exactly what kind of violence it wants to sell and it sells it hard.

Where it starts to fall off is how quickly the shine wears thin. After a handful of runs the rooms begin feeling familiar. Enemy mixes repeat. Bosses lean more “cheap pressure” than “interesting fight.” The story is mostly a loud game-show host mocking you between floors and some thin lore about the prison and the Substance. Morgan looks cool and the cybernetic fantasy is fun on the surface, but once you’ve cycled through the main implant sets a few times the magic starts fading. Controls can feel a little loose when things get hectic, and higher difficulties sometimes tip into frustration instead of fair challenge.

Sobaka Studio made a bloody, competent action game that delivers exactly what it promises for a good stretch of time. It’s not broken. It’s not boring. The combat feels good, the builds have real variety, and the short-run structure respects your evening. It just never becomes more than a solid way to kill a few hours with cybernetic violence.

I climbed the tower. I tore people apart and rebuilt myself into something uglier and stronger. I died, came back, and did it again. It felt good while the blood was still warm. When the run ended I closed the game and didn’t feel the need to jump right back in.

A bloody, competent roguelite brawler with fun cybernetic toys that delivers solid violence but never quite becomes something you can’t put down.