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YOU'RE DEAD. PRESS R TO RESTART.

2093. Your veins feel like gunfire. Prescription: .50 AE, .45 ACP, .50 BMG.

A throbbing headache the size of a rice grain. Harley's got a gun again.

Seek and destroy. Leave no survivors.

UV-Tyson with a twist.

New tricks. New tools. New expedition. Still the same british thrill-seeker.

Spiritual sequel to my first mod. Just a bunch of guns, assembled into a pack.

A side-scrolling action puzzle game starring ghosts!

This is the beginning. 16 weapons, no compromise.

A bardic class for MÖRK BORG

A job is a job. Tough luck, bambino.

Misfortune preys on the innocent. It's such a long way down.

No mercy, no honor, no humanity.

A skeletal paladin class for MÖRK BORG

Arizona sucks? Go to Hell.

A GZDoom-based standalone remake of PT!

1989. The sun throbs a violent pink under your blown out pupils.

Booze, bullets and bombs. Crikey.

A one way return to Mars. Back to Hell with you.

A subterranean lore starter for MÖRK BORG.

1989. Technicolor blood drains down the gutters. The pupil contracts.