Retro Replay Review

Gameplay

ZPC greets you as a true hybrid of first-person shooter and light puzzle-adventure, putting you in the sandals of a dormant god-king awakened to a ravaged world. From the moment you step off your stasis slab, you’ll navigate crumbling industrial complexes, solve environment-based puzzles, and engage in frantic firefights against fanatical sectists. The controls feel solid, with a satisfying weight to your divine arsenal—energy blasts crackle through the air, telekinetic forces swirl debris at your foes, and ancient relics unlock hidden pathways that keep exploration constantly rewarding.

(HEY YOU!! We hope you enjoy! We try not to run ads. So basically, this is a very expensive hobby running this site. Please consider joining us for updates, forums, and more. Network w/ us to make some cash or friends while retro gaming, and you can win some free retro games for posting. Okay, carry on 👍)

One of the game’s highlights is the subtle resource management: your godly powers draw on an arcane energy pool that you must replenish by freeing captured followers or tapping into sacred altars. This balance between combat and conservation creates tense moments when you decide whether to expend your lightning-wrath on hordes of enemies or save it for the looming boss encounters. Meanwhile, environmental puzzles—like rerouting power conduits or redirecting molten slag flows—add engaging variety to the core gunplay.

The enemy design is impressively diverse for a mid-’90s title: from lowly acolytes swinging crude blades to hulking statues reanimated by the sect’s dark rituals. Each threat demands a slightly different tactic—sometimes you’ll need to freeze foes in place and pick them off, other times you’ll unleash a shockwave to clear a crowded arena. The pacing remains tight as levels steadily ramp up in complexity, ensuring that veteran FPS players and newcomers alike find moments of challenge and exhilaration.

Graphics

Visually, ZPC leans heavily into the stark, high-contrast style crafted by underground artist Aidan “KMFDM” Hughes. His trademark black-and-red palette defines every texture, from graffiti-laden walls to the twisted machinery of the sect’s strongholds. While polygon counts feel dated by modern standards, the bold art direction compensates through striking silhouettes and ominous lighting that amplify the game’s oppressive atmosphere.

The static backgrounds and 2D sprite enemies sometimes reveal their age—pixelation creeps in at higher resolutions, and character animations can appear stiff. Yet these technical limitations almost become part of the charm, evoking a comic-book aesthetic where every scene feels framed like a panel in Hughes’s gritty graphic novels. Juxtaposed with FMV sequences featuring his artwork, the game maintains a cohesive visual identity that still holds appeal for fans of alternative aesthetics.

Lighting effects and particle systems, though primitive by contemporary measures, serve the world-building perfectly. Flickering torches cast uneven shadows that dance across rusted machinery, and the occasional burst of electric discharge momentarily bathes corridors in brilliant white light. These simple effects help draw you deeper into ZPC’s decaying environments, making each new area feel both familiar and unsettling.

Story

The narrative thrust of ZPC hinges on your role as a resurrected god-king, summoned from suspended animation to liberate a planet overrun by an evil sect. From the outset, the sect’s brutality is palpable: your followers are being slaughtered, their temples desecrated, and their sacred texts twisted into propaganda. This stark dichotomy—divine savior versus fanatic oppressors—provides a clear moral imperative that drives each mission.

Storytelling unfolds through a blend of in-engine dialogue, audio logs, and spectacular cutscenes featuring Revolting Cocks soundtrack cues. The industrial music underscores pivotal moments, transforming routine loading screens into moments of head-banging intensity. While some plot beats follow predictable “good versus evil” tropes, the game peppers in twists—betrayal within your ranks, glimpses of the sect’s twisted theology, and hints of cosmic forces manipulating events behind the scenes.

Characterization is sparse but effective: your loyal lieutenants deliver urgent reports, while split-second flashbacks remind you of your former glory and the reasons for your stasis. Enemy sect priests, garbed in ritual masks and chanting gruesome odes, exude a menacing presence despite minimal dialogue. Ultimately, ZPC’s story excels at creating an urgent, visceral mood that keeps you invested from awakening to the final confrontation.

Overall Experience

ZPC stands as a cult classic that marries bold artistry with uncompromising, old-school gameplay. It doesn’t hold your hand—expect occasional backtracking, inventory micromanagement, and uneven difficulty spikes—but these flaws contribute to its authentic retro charm. For seasoned gamers seeking a journey off the beaten path, the challenge of mastering both divine abilities and conventional firepower makes each victory feel hard-earned and deeply satisfying.

The collaboration between the Revolting Cocks’ industrial soundscapes and Aidan Hughes’s striking visuals creates an immersive, dystopian world unlike any other FPS from its era. Even if the engine feels outdated by today’s benchmarks, the game’s pulse-pounding music and uncompromising art style still pack a visceral punch. Fans of dark, atmospheric shooters will appreciate the relentless mood, while those curious about the roots of non-mainstream game design will find ZPC an enlightening trip down gaming history.

Overall, ZPC offers a memorable, if rough-edged, adventure that challenges you both mechanically and thematically. Its fusion of godlike powers, haunting narrative, and industrial-musical flair makes for a uniquely compelling package—one that continues to resonate with players willing to embrace its retro trappings and dive headfirst into the world of a slumbering god-king’s righteous crusade.

Retro Replay Score

6.5/10