Brotato

Brotato doesn’t just throw you into the deep end, it drop-kicks you into a pit of aliens with six shotguns taped to your eyes and dares you to make it fashion.

In this gloriously chaotic arena roguelite, you play as a literal potato armed with up to six weapons at once. Yes, that sentence is real. Waves of increasingly deranged aliens pour in from all sides, and your only goal is to survive. Not win. Not conquer. Just live long enough for your potato buddies to pick you up. Assuming you haven’t been mulchified by then.

Each 20-to-90 second wave is a bullet-hell rave, an auto-firing ballet of SMGs, rocket launchers, flamethrowers, and, sure, sticks. Between rounds, you shop for weird upgrades like exploding turrets, leeching fists, or extra arms. And that’s before you pick from dozens of characters with names like Crazy or Mage that completely upend how the game plays. Want to melee everything with your bare potato hands? You can. Want to rain laser death while your turrets mop up the survivors? Also on the menu.

The chaos is immaculate. One run you’re a glass cannon mage that combusts on contact. The next, a dodge-obsessed brawler who punches bosses to death while healing off snacks. It’s Vampire Survivors on amphetamines and smaller arenas, tighter, faster, meaner.

No story? No problem. Brotato’s brilliance is in the loop: shoot, survive, mutate, repeat. It’s a spicy bag of tactical nonsense and crunchy cartoon violence.