Quake

Tá maluco comprem e sejam felizes.

im quakin in my boots

Papai acho que me borrei >_<. MUITO BOM!

A timeless classic, one of the greatest games of all time. New content looks great and has been a lot of fun so far. Loads of other official content and community content to delve into. Great on your own or in coop. Strafing and fragging to your heart's content, it's the simple things that keep life fun :)

[h1]Runes of the Lost World: In the Shadow of Shub-Niggurath[/h1] I arrived with my sister in the very entrails of hell—or perhaps it was another world entirely, a realm already deceased, still smouldering within our fragile conception of eternity. Something lives and is named Quake, though to me it was naught but Shub-Niggurath: a being that unsettles the soul, grotesque and formless, its tentacles straining upwards as though to graze the ceiling of its wretched dwelling. Within those hollowed depths, ferocious enemies lingered. In their strange insistence that we should approach Her Majesty, they enacted every cruelty required to halt our passage. And still, we went on. Before reaching the very jaws of madness, I found myself wondering—what temptation first took root in the minds of scientists and soldiers, urging them to fashion portals, to trespass across dimensions? Many had already crossed. And among those countless worlds, it seems they found the most heinous of all. Yet I cannot help but ask: are we truly better, when we too rend the membranes of reality simply to pass through? It seemed, at last, that we had arrived. Along the way, we bore witness to the fallen—Rangers whose journeys ended before they could even behold that unconscious, living chaos. Temptation came easily. Evil, too, might have flourished within us. And yet—it did not. In each world we gathered fragments, relics that might corrupt the soul, though they whispered secrets as well: the identity of the architect behind the invasion, her veiled longings—perhaps unknown even to herself—and the means by which she might be undone. The sky itself seemed to scream. The clouds hung torn, as though some immense creature breathed above us, its exhalation flaying the firmament like thin skin. Below, as my sister and I carved our path, we encountered beings not of this world—creatures bearing chainsaws, spectral phantoms, and that gelatinous horror whose erratic leaps stir vertigo, madness, and an unnameable grief. Certain places linger still in my mind. A pyramid, for instance—its presence bound, it seemed, to the corruption that had seeped into this world. Perhaps this hunger to pierce through realities has always existed: the desire to know what lies beyond what is permitted, to trespass past the quiet limits of our confinement. It would be so easy to lose oneself. To carve a desperate path through the corridors of unraveling thought, only to be claimed by the demons that dwell there. Yet with us, it was not so. Though the sky exhales an ancient scent of rust, metallic and timeworn, and though the clouds never cease their silent screaming—we still have one another. I followed my sister as one follows a light. And that was enough. Even amidst that pull towards transcendence—towards what we were never meant to grasp—the walls bore images of Christ turned inward. A blasphemy, perhaps, or something deeper still. And there, among the cries of agony, we saw figures—human, or remnants of humanity—writhing in endless torment upon the cross. They were no longer people. No names remained. Only function. Only suffering. In such a world—distorted, inverted, unmade—one must ask: will we too dissolve, if we linger here? Will we yield, and pay the price for stepping where we were never meant to tread? And why is it that the runes did not corrupt us? Why did they not drag us into perdition? We are told we must save the Earth—though it feels as though nothing remains to be saved. And yet, in something quieter, we endure. In resonance. In closeness. We protect one another. And so we continue, even as our steps grow heavy with pain, determined to bring an end to Shub-Niggurath. Perhaps a rune cannot sear the soul so long as purpose endures. Ours lies in care—in the quiet refusal to surrender, or to reach beyond what we are. It would be easy, so terribly easy, to taste that fleeting power—to vanish into invisibility, to bear the mark of the pentagram, to feel omnipotence bloom and fade within a single breath. But perhaps salvation lies elsewhere. In sharing the burden. Is that not how one resists temptation? By refusing the hollow seduction of power—pentagram protection, quad damage, or ring of shadow—to which so many others yield without question? There is a kind of permanence in the soul when it dwells beside another. In my case—with my sister. It is there that corruption falters. We let those fragments and runes pass through us, rather than take root. For strength, true strength, reveals itself only when it is used to shield another. In gathering the runes, we came to understand something deeper than the nature of Shub-Niggurath. We came to understand ourselves—our purpose, our quiet defiance. And that truth outweighs any power they could offer. So we descend. Into the abyss. Through cathedral corridors that echo with a cold, sterile stillness—down into the very entrails of the formless. And for this journey, I owe a quiet gratitude to id Software and Nightdive Studios, who made this world inhabitable through the grace of cooperation. I had long wished to traverse such a place—but never alone. Always with my sister.

lo acabo de instalar y esta GOD el multijugador esta vivo :D cuando quake 5?

Still love the hell out of this game, always fun, feels awesome to play