Diablo II

There's a reason we still call them "Diablo-likes" two decades later. Before Diablo 2, action-RPGs existed. After it, everything else became an imitation. Blizzard North didn't just refine their formula—they perfected addiction itself. The loop is devastatingly simple: kill demons, watch loot explode like a piñata of corrupted gold, equip something shinier, repeat until sunrise. You'll tell yourself "one more run." You'll be lying for the next six hours. But beneath that simplicity hides genuine depth. Seven distinct classes, each with sprawling skill trees that demand commitment. Do you build a Frozen Orb Sorceress or go full Lightning? Summon Necromancer or Poison Nova? These aren't cosmetic choices—they're identities. Your Hammerdin isn't just a Paladin. He's your Paladin, forged through countless Baal runs and traded runes. The atmosphere remains unmatched. Act I's rain-soaked Gothic horror. Act II's sun-scorched tombs. Act III's suffocating jungle darkness. Act IV's literal descent into Hell. Each environment drips with dread, amplified by a soundtrack that whispers of ancient evil. And the loot—the loot. That electric moment when a unique drops. The obsessive comparison of affixes. The holy grail chase for perfect rolls. No modern ARPG has replicated this feeling, no matter how many have tried. Yes, it's punishing. Yes, the mechanics are dated. But Diablo 2 doesn't apologize for what it is. It simply is—the template everything else copied.