Saros is unbelievably difficult – but these games are much worse

Domagoj Belancic

28/4/2026

Translation: Katherine Martin

Co-author: Rainer Etzweiler, Philipp Rüegg, Luca Fontana, Simon Balissat

To mark the release of Saros, we on the editorial team have been reminiscing about the games that drove us crazy. Here are our worst and most embarrassing rage quits.

Roguelite title Saros is one of the toughest games of the year. Stranded on an alien planet teeming with deadly aliens and robots, you blast your way through procedurally generated levels. Even small-time enemies can kill you in a matter of seconds. Such intense bullet-hell gameplay requires quick reflexes and total mastery of the fast-paced shooting and dashing mechanics.

When you’re playing Saros, the line between frustration and delight is very thin. One moment, you’re cheering because you’ve defeated a tough boss. The next, you’re tempted to throw your controller at the wall.

I asked the editorial team which other games besides Saros had driven them crazy.

Returnal (Domagoj)

Saros’s predecessor, Returnal, is even more brutal. So brutal, in fact, that I swore I’d never support a game developed by Finnish studio Housemarque again. It was a decision motivated by a mix of defiance and an attempt to protect my mental health.

Gameplay-wise, the two roguelite titles are quite similar. That said, there are some key differences. In Returnal, you could have the best run of your life, only to die within seconds due to a series of unfortunate events and lose everything. I still vividly remember that one run that ripped out my gamer heart, sending me spinning into rage-quit territory.

In Saros, by contrast, you still make progress, even if you have a bad run. And when you die, you’re angry at yourself, not at the game. I’m glad I gave the game a chance despite my Returnal trauma. The studio seems to have listened to its fans’ howls of fury and produced a fairer game with lower rage-quit potential. Or maybe I’ve just grown up and got a better handle on my emotions? (Lol, nope).

Kena: Bridge of Spirits (Rainer)

Studio Ember Lab’s debut is a fantastic action-adventure game that I highly recommend to any fan of classic Zelda games. That is, if you can handle one of the most unfair, dirtbag bosses ever.

Defeating the Corrupt Woodsmith requires you to use your entire move set, have Zen-like timing and maintain your full attention for an absurdly long time. All in a game whose difficulty level is otherwise more in line with typical Nintendo titles. User @Ezekiel33Music sums it up perfectly in the comments section of a YouTube walkthrough: «This game goes from easier than Mario to harder than Dark Souls.»

Despite all this, I managed to make it to the credits after all. Kena: Bridge of Spirits is too good to simply rage quit.

Hearthstone (Philipp)

Nothing makes me angrier than losing in one-on-one battles. So I really should’ve steered clear of Hearthstone, Blizzard’s digital offshoot of Magic: The Gathering. But what can I say? I like the Blizzard universe, and I love card games. Especially ones that don’t involve complicated deck-building. So Battlegrounds – a kind of Battle Royale mode – seemed perfect. Eight people compete against each other in one-on-one matches until there’s only one winner left standing. The more rounds you survive, the higher the potential for frustration.

Fortunately, there’s no chat – only emotes. But there was no holding me back on the day that, just as I thought I had victory in the bag, some little dweeb wiped out my health points with a yobbo deck of cards he’d clearly copied from an e-sports pro. When he topped it all off with an «ooops», the sound of me screaming the place down was all that could drown out my frantic hammering on the Alt+F4 keys.

Pokémon Champions (Domagoj)

To celebrate the release of battle simulator Pokémon Champions, I decided to embark on a career as a Pokémon Trainer. I wanted to be the very best. Like no one ever was. In reality, I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.

Ever since Red and Blue came out, I’d only ever played Pokémon in single-player mode. I’d never been interested in the competitive scene. For one thing, because of how difficult it is to get into. Putting together a battleworthy team takes weeks of grinding. Pokémon Champions, however, has made all of this easier. You choose your team, set your pocket monsters’ moves, abilities and stats, and the online battle begins.

But here’s the rub. Every time I felt like I’d finally come up with a well-conceived team design, I’d take a serious beating and a virtual spit in the face from a Japanese player. How the hell can some ugly teapot Pokémon wipe out one of my most powerful monsters in a single blow? Who do you think you are, tough guy? You little green poop bucket!

Home menu, close game, Switch off. They can all go to hell. From now on, I’ll only be playing Digimon.

Tales of Destiny II (Rainer)

Great RPG. But in the final dungeon, there was a mid-boss whose «screw you!» attack would wipe out my entire party within seconds. No matter how overlevelled I was. With a bit of luck, some healing items and the patience of a nature documentary filmmaker, I finally managed to take him down.

Only to discover that I needed to defeat him five more times. FIVE TIMES. To hell with that. Anyone who claims to have played this game all the way through is lying.

EA FC 26 (Luca)

I’ll say it once, and I’ll say it clearly: EA FC is not a game. It’s a psychological experiment conducted on unsuspecting people who just want to play football.

For 70 minutes, I was dominating. I’d outplay an opponent, score a goal or two, staying in control in every situation. I was poised. Unstoppable. The best EA FC player in the world. And then, right at the 71-minute mark, the game decided that I’d been winning quite enough, thank you very much.

What came after that wasn’t football. It was betrayal. My passes were like gifts to my opponents. While my defenders shuffled into play like tired turtles in a sandpit, the opposing striker rocketed over the pitch like Usain Bolt. My goalkeeper – that lazy, smug, disloyal so-and-so – who hadn’t broken a sweat the entire game, simply gazed at the opposing team taking their shots, like a tourist admiring the Eiffel Tower. He stood there, not moving a muscle. Goal. Then another. And another. At one point, the ball hit the post, bounced off my goalkeeper’s back, then rolled into the net. As if things couldn’t get any more humiliating.

I yelled. Not just a little. I was yelling so loudly for so long, it was like I was getting paid for it. My cats darted under the sofa, into the darkest corners of the flat, anywhere I wouldn’t be able to find them. I had thoughts I’d later be ashamed of. Tried to break the controller in two and very nearly managed it. It’s been slightly wobbly ever since.

These days, I don’t play EA FC any more. It’s a peaceful life. My cats have come out of hiding. All is well.

FIFA 15 (Domagoj)

I feel for Luca. You see, I fell victim to that same diabolical experiment. I was utterly hooked on it, sliding into an addiction that reached its peak with FIFA 15 in 2014. It felt like being in a toxic relationship. Every evening, I’d hear FIFA whispering, «Come on, just one more game. Pick up the controller and play me.» And every evening, I’d give in to its siren call, knowing full well I wouldn’t enjoy myself.

What really bugged me were all the douchebags I encountered online. Especially when I’d be forced to watch them do their daft post-goal celebrations. The sight of Messi shuffling his butt over the grass like a dog with worms sent me into a white-hot rage.

Time and again, I uninstalled the game while it was still running. As revenge. Take that, FIFA 15! I killed you during an online match. Who’s the loser now, huh? (Still me.)

The next evening, I came crawling back. Desperate for my fix, I reinstalled the game. I knew I’d hit rock bottom when I sent an obscenity-filled private message to an opponent after they quit mid-match. I can’t remember exactly what I wrote, but I know I was generous with the letter «F». It nearly cost me my PlayStation account.

Today, like Luca, I’m free of that burden. I’m a better person without FIFA.

Super Mario Land (Simon)

I was probably ten years old when I started playing Super Mario Land on the Gameboy. My buddy and I used to take turns playing it at his place. In the Easton Kingdom, I was dumb enough to jump off a cliff. At such a tender age, this was enough to break me.

I slammed the Game Boy down on the bed (thankfully not the floor), stormed out and ran the 100 metres home in my socks (the ground was wet from the rain). Later, I had to sheepishly go back to collect my shoes.

The Elder Scrolls III: Morrowind (Rainer)

Back in the day, I used to play this classic on the Xbox. The loading times alone would’ve been reason enough to rage quit. What pushed me over the edge, however, was an unassuming little creature (and maybe a little bit of my own clumsiness).

After painstakingly creating a character who wasn’t completely hideous (which took about three hours), I arrived in Morrowind, fell into the water and was promptly killed by a fish.

Not by a monster. Not by a mighty human enemy. But by a friggin’ fish. Had I saved the game? Of course not. After that, I had absolutely no desire to ever play the brownest game of all time again.

Mario Strikers Charged Football (Domagoj)

Ever been hit by a blue shell right before the finish line in Mario Kart? Mario Strikers Charged Football is a game packed with similarly rage-inspiring moments. It’s the most unfair game on the planet. FIFA doesn’t even compare.

The premise of the game’s easy to explain: you play football with Mario characters. Since it’s a Mario title, there are all kinds of items and special shots that cause chaos. This is all well and good, but the game’s balance and AI are completely inconsistent. It’s luck – not skill – that matters most. The NPCs act like they’ve enabled cheats.

Mario gets all the best items, tackles you constantly and scores annoying goals with mega shots. My hands still tremble with anger when I think about it. Once, after conceding a particularly frustrating goal, I actually bit my Wii controller. That’s right. Bit. So hard that it creaked. To this day, I can still see the bite marks on it.

Domagoj Belancic

Senior Editor

Domagoj.Belancic@digitecgalaxus.ch

My love of video games was unleashed at the tender age of five by the original Gameboy. Over the years, it's grown in leaps and bounds.

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This is a subjective opinion of the editorial team. It doesn't necessarily reflect the position of the company.

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