I don’t know if it was the caffeine, the crowd, or the sheer volume of flashing LEDs, but something about this year’s PAX Australia felt… louder. Not just in sound, although yes, the bass from the Sony booth and the RGB brightness of the Govee light booth could probably be heard from the tram stop. It was louder in energy. In colour. In personality. And in the occasional chaos….evacuations included.
Compared to last year, it was like someone turned the dial past max. More booths. More games. More people. More everything. The indie section spilled into new corners. The tabletop zone felt like a convention within a convention. Even the merch hall had a kind of frantic sparkle to it, like everyone was chasing something they didn’t quite need but absolutely had to have.
There was a sense of scale this time. Not just physical, though the floor plan definitely expanded. It was emotional, too. The kind of scale that makes you feel like you’re part of something bigger than just a weekend hobby. Something communal. Messy. Joyful. Occasionally overwhelming. But everything you love about PAX Australia and then some!
MSI’s Project Zero & Claw 8 AI+: Sleek, Sharp, and Slightly Intimidating
I wandered into MSI’s booth mostly by accident, during media hour, no less. I was trying to find a quiet corner to check my first appointment, maybe regroup before the real chaos kicked in, but instead I found myself face-to-face with Project Zero. It’s absurdly clean. Like, unsettlingly clean. No visible cables, no clutter. Just this pristine slab of tech that looks like it was designed by someone who’s never spilled coffee on a keyboard, not that I ever have.
It gave off this strange museum vibe; it was behind glass and was more than just a display. It was powered on and humming quietly. I leaned in, half expecting to see some clunky cabling coming out of the GPU. But nothing. It was almost unnerving. I think I whispered “wow” without meaning to.
And then I saw it. Nestled inside the build, like it wasn’t even trying to show off: the MSI GeForce RTX 5070 Ti 16G VENTUS 3X PZ Series GOU. Cableless. Well…..sort of.
If you’ve used the Project Zero motherboard, you know the trick. Everything routes behind the board, tucked away like a magician’s sleight of hand. I’ve built with it before, and even then, seeing it in person like this with a wireless GPU felt surreal. Like catching a glimpse of a concept sketch brought to life, but this wasn’t a prototype or proof of concept. It was an avaliable GPU from the future. For those who wonder, no, it’s not truly cableless, of course, but the illusion is so convincing you start to believe it anyway.
The MSI Claw 8 AI+ was nearby, tucked into a corner of the booth like it didn’t need to shout for attention. I wandered over during media hour, still half-distracted by the Project Zero build, and spent a few minutes with it. As with all the handhelds coming on the market, I feel like you’ve used one, you’ve used them all.
But it’s snappy. Responsive. A little heavier than I expected, but maybe that’s just me or maybe it’s the weight of the tech packed inside. Under the hood, it’s running Intel’s latest Core Ultra 9 processor, part of the Meteor Lake lineup. That means it’s got the new hybrid architecture with performance cores, efficiency cores, and those AI-boosted NPUs Intel keeps talking about. I didn’t get to test the AI features directly, but the rep mentioned background upscaling and smart power management that adapts to gameplay.
Graphics-wise, it’s powered by Intel Arc, which, honestly, surprised me. I’ve used the first-gen Intel Arc on a friend’s desktop, and it’s come a long way, but seeing it in a handheld felt bold. The demo running was fast-paced and buttery smooth. I fumbled through the open-world game with the kind of confidence only a convention crowd can grant you. I love gaming, but I’ve never said I’m good at it. I don’t think I even finished the level. But the controls felt tight. The screen was crisp. It had that “I feel cool” kind of vibe.
The display’s 8-inch FHD panel is bright, with a refresh rate that felt like 120Hz, though I couldn’t confirm. It looked smooth. That’s what matters. The triggers had a satisfying click, and the thumbsticks didn’t feel mushy, which is more than I can say for some other handhelds I’ve tried.
Ivy, MSI Rep, asked if I had any questions. I said no, but thanked her anyway. Then I circled back five minutes later when she wasn’t looking to take another look. Just one more. For research… or science. And maybe a little envy. It’s the kind of device that makes you rethink your PC master race loyalty, even if only for a moment.
Keychron: My Financial Mistake, My Mechanical Joy
I should not have gone near the Keychron booth. I knew this. I’ve spent too much money on their keyboard parts already. Like, embarrassingly too much. There are boxes of switches I haven’t even opened. Keycaps are still sealed in their packaging, waiting for a build that may or may not happen. A drawer full of stabilisers, neatly sorted but untouched. And the lube kits, plural, bought “just in case,” as if I’m preparing for some kind of switch apocalypse.
It’s a hobby, sure. One I genuinely love. But it’s also the kind that quietly drains your wallet while convincing you it’s all in the name of self-expression. Which, to be fair, it kind of is.
But there they were. Keychron. Lined up like candy bars for nerds. Sleek, colourful, tactile. I tapped a few keys. Then a few more. Then I asked about the new low-profile model, even though I don’t need it. I don’t even want it. But I kind of do.
Kelly joined me at the booth, and when I said, “Oh, I don’t need anything,” she smiled like she knew I was lying. She always knows. There’s something about the way I talk about switches or keycaps, like I’m describing wine. “This one’s got a crisp top-out, but a softer bottoming feel.” She nodded, pretending to follow, probably amused by my nerdiness more than anything.
And it wasn’t just me. The booth was buzzing. People crowding around, testing layouts, comparing travel distances, asking about hot-swappable PCBs like it were a casual conversation. It felt like a little pocket of community tucked into the chaos of PAX Australia. Everyone is geeking out over plate foam and gasket mounts. I overheard someone say they’d brought their own board just to show it off. Others, including me, shared photos of their latest baby. I didn’t see many of them up close, but I respect the passion. It’s a sub-community I’m kind of part of. Quietly. Obsessively.
I left with a tote bag and a vague sense of guilt for not buying anything….. well, there are 5 sets of keycaps I wanted. Also, a sticker. And a keyring. And a mental note to maybe, possibly, definitely check their site for those models once I get home. Just to look. Probably.
Nintendo: Back, Bold, and a Little Bit Nostalgic
Nintendo returned to PAX Australia with a massive booth, debuting the Nintendo Switch 2 and showcasing major upcoming titles like Pokémon Legends: Z-A, Metroid Prime 4: Beyond, and Kirby Air Riders. It was colourful, chaotic, and, finally, fun again.
Nintendo came back swinging at PAX Australia 2025. Their booth wasn’t just busy, it was magnetic. Packed with colour, movement, and a kind of joyful noise that made it impossible to walk past without stopping. There was a Mario-themed dance performance happening when I arrived. I didn’t fully understand it, but I stood there watching anyway, caught somewhere between confusion and delight.
The real draw, though, was the hands-on demos. Nintendo Switch 2 was front and centre, and it felt like everyone wanted a turn, and the queue length was enormous from the time it opened to close. I managed to sneak in a few minutes with Metroid Prime 4: Beyond, which now features Joy-Con 2 mouse-style controls. It was slick. Sharp. I didn’t get far, media hour is still a rush, but it was enough to make me reconsider my weekend plans.
Pokémon Legends: Z-A was another standout. The demo let you explore Lumiose City ahead of its October release, and the line for it never seemed to shrink. I overheard someone say it was the smoothest Pokémon experience they’d had in years. I didn’t play it myself, but I believe them. Especially when I saw people finish up & walk back around to join the queue. I honestly think I saw this one guy in the Pokémon Legends: Z-A queue all of Friday. I saw him play twice and in the queue 3 more times. If that isn’t a positive review, I don’t know what is.
Then there was Kirby Air Riders, a fast-paced vehicle combat game that felt like Mario Kart collided with Smash Bros.; chaotic, colourful, and surprisingly competitive. It was the game’s first playable showing in Australia, and the crowd around it never let up.
Players zipped around floating tracks, launching attacks mid-drift and grabbing power-ups that turned the tide in seconds. I watched a few rounds; cheers, groans, high-fives between strangers. That kind of energy doesn’t happen by accident.
I didn’t get to play, but it’s clearly built for party chaos. Bright visuals, tight controls, and just enough unpredictability to keep things fun. If Nintendo wanted to remind us that Kirby can be wild, they nailed it.
Hyrule Warriors: Age of Imprisonment was tucked into a quieter corner, but still drew a steady crowd. It’s darker than past entries, and the combat felt heavier, more deliberate from what I could see. I didn’t get hands-on time with it, but the buzz around it was real.
Beyond the first-party titles, Nintendo also featured third-party hits like Hollow Knight: Silksong and Hades II, both running smoothly on the new hardware. It was a reminder that the Nintendo Switch 2 isn’t just about Nintendo, it’s about the ecosystem they’ve built.
And maybe that’s why this year felt different. Nintendo didn’t just bring polish; they brought personality. The booth was loud, a little messy, and packed with people genuinely geeking out over the games they love. It felt like they’d tapped back into something they hadn’t touched in a while. Not just safety. Not just shine. Actual fun. The kind that’s nostalgic and new at the same time. Familiar, but with a pulse.
Govee Lights: A Comeback in Full Neon
I didn’t expect Govee to be a highlight. I mean, lights? Sure. But they went all in. The booth was pulsing, literally. It had this rhythm to it, like the whole setup was breathing. I saw people just standing there, watching the colours shift. No phones. No selfies. Just watching.
It was oddly calming. Or maybe hypnotic. I’m not sure. I stayed longer than I meant to.
The setup wasn’t just visual, it was immersive. Panels wrapped around the booth, syncing to ambient music that wasn’t loud, just present. You could feel it more than hear it. The lights responded in real time, shifting from soft gradients to sharp flashes depending on the beat. It felt less like a product demo and more like stepping into a mood.
They had their new AI Sync Box on display, which uses scene recognition to adjust lighting dynamically based on what’s happening on screen. Someone was watching something, I honestly couldn’t tell you what. I was too focused on the lights. The booth lit up in deep reds, electric blues, and bursts of bright yellow every time a firefight broke out. It was subtle, but effective and added so much to the immersion of watching TV. You didn’t need to understand the tech to feel impressed.
I overheard someone say it was the best booth for “vibes,” and honestly, I didn’t disagree. It wasn’t trying to sell you on specs or features; it was selling you on atmosphere. On the idea that lighting can be more than decorative. It can be emotional.
I didn’t buy anything. But I wanted to. The pricing was wild, like everything seemed to be going at cost. And having seen Govee lights in practically every YouTube gaming room makeover video, I get why so many people opened their wallets. It was tempting. Very tempting.
Sony’s Sweet, Sweet Cameras and Peripheral Parade
What’s the first thing you think of when you hear “Sony”? Cameras, maybe. Or PlayStation. But gaming peripherals? Yeah, I was shocked too. And more shocked when I sat down to actually use them. As they were fantastic!
Sony’s booth was sleek, as expected. Minimalist design, clean lighting, and that quiet confidence they always carry. But this year, they leaned hard into their INZONE lineup. Headsets, mice, playmats, and yes, those sweet, sweet cameras still made an appearance. Oh, how I wanted to upgrade my Sony A6000. I held one briefly and imagined myself as someone who understands aperture settings. I don’t. But the fantasy was nice.
The real surprise was the INZONE H9 II headset. It’s Sony’s new flagship wireless model, co-developed with Fnatic’s pro FPS teams. I tried it on during a short media session and immediately noticed the comfort; plush, but not bulky. The noise cancellation was eerie in the best way, and the directional audio felt tuned for competitive play. You could hear footsteps. Actual footsteps. In a crowded expo hall. That’s saying something.
Next to it was their gaming mouse prototype, lightweight, responsive, and surprisingly refined. When I say light, I mean light. It weighs in at 9 grams less than a Mars bar. It didn’t feel like Sony’s first attempt. It felt like they’d been doing this for years. Paired with their new playmats (yes, playmats), the whole setup had a kind of understated precision. The mats were textured just enough to feel premium, but not flashy. Functional. Quietly confident.
I sat down for a quick match, nothing serious, just a short FPS round and everything clicked. Well, except for the fact that I still suck at FPS. The mouse tracked perfectly, actually allowing me to come across better than I am, which is no mean feat. The headset gave me spatial awareness I didn’t expect. And the playmat? It anchored the whole experience in a way I didn’t know I needed. I’ve reviewed a few playmats over the years, and they help keep my desk tidy, but I didn’t really think of them as a piece of gaming equipment until now!
There was a demo area too, but I skipped the crowd. Too many people. Too much noise. I just wanted to admire the gear and move on. But I kept thinking about it. Sony didn’t just show up with cameras this year. They showed up with a statement: INZONE isn’t a side-brand. It’s a serious contender.
And after getting hands on with it? I kind of believe them.
PowerA: Clean, Clever, and Surprisingly Cool
I didn’t expect to spend much time at PowerA. I figured third-party controllers, maybe a few cases. But their booth was clean, colourful, and quietly impressive.
Their new lineup for the Nintendo Switch 2 was front and centre—fully licensed designs, bold colourways, and the Fusion Pro 3, which felt like an Xbox Elite controller but friendlier. Swappable faceplates, programmable paddles, and a solid weight gave it that premium feel without being intimidating.
They also had travel gear and charging docks that made me rethink my chaotic tech bag. I watched someone demo a fold-out case with cable routing and backup Joy-Con slots, and suddenly I wanted to be that organised.
PowerA didn’t shout, but they didn’t need to. They showed up with gear that works, looks good, and makes you feel like you’ve levelled up without breaking the bank. I even picked up a controller to match my newest custom keyboard build… and now I kind of prefer it over the keyboard.
Indies, Board Games, and the Joy of Wandering
The indie section at PAX Australia was chaotic in the best possible way. Narrow aisles, tiny booths, and developers practically vibrating with excitement. You could feel the passion radiating off every table: handmade signage, scribbled pitch sheets, and games that gleefully defied genre. I played something that made me feel like Philip Seymour Hoffman in Twister; frantic, confused, and somehow exhilarated. I didn’t fully understand what I was doing… but that might’ve just been me. Sam, the dev, was so enthusiastic I couldn’t help but smile. That kind of energy is contagious, and it’s why I love that every year the indie scene grows bigger, bolder, and weirder.
Kelly’s deep dive into the indie zone will be up shortly. She caught some gems I missed, and her interviews are gold. Keep an eye out for that. I won’t go on too long here and steal her thunder.
Board games were tucked into their own corner, and by corner, I mean the back five bays of Jeff’s shed. It was enormous this year. Stepping into it felt like entering a different dimension. Quieter. Warmer. The lighting was softer, the pace slower. I saw newcomers like Asmodee and Riftbound, plus the usual suspects: Lorcana, Paint & Take, and Magic: The Gathering. And then, tucked in there between the big booths, Games Workshop. My beloved Games Workshop. Their setup was modest, but it didn’t matter. I ended up chatting with a few store managers, including the amazing Mohawked Matt, my old local store manager. It had been a while, but he hasn’t changed a bit. His passion is as infectious as ever. No one lights up a paint table or gets wild-eyed kids of all ages hyped for the game quite like Matt. It was bliss.
The Tabletop Game Designer Association (TGDA) had a presence as well. A glorious mess of hopefuls and veterans showing off prototypes, rulebooks, and hand-drawn maps. Some tables had full playmats and miniatures, others just a sketchpad and a dream. It was raw and wonderful. You could see the gears turning in real time as designers pitched, refined, and reimagined their creations based on live feedback. It’s always a place I spend a lot of time in, but somehow still feel like I’m never there enough. And it only gets better when you see a game you played there hit Kickstarter. It’s the future of the industry, and I love it.
Friendships, Pins, and a Cherry Popped
Hell, I didn’t even know it was a thing. I swear. I thought pins were just merch; cute, collectible, maybe something you buy and forget (like the five or six gathering dust in my drawer). But then my friend Alex, a staple in yellow (Enforcer) at PAX Australia and someone I met here many moons ago, messaged me. She asked if I wanted to catch up, but “know I have a plan”. No idea what that meant. I figured coffee, maybe a lap around the expo floor or wanting to play a board game. I was wrong.
Turns out, the plan was pin trading. And not just casual trading, Alex had a lanyard full of enamel chaos, a mental spreadsheet of targets, and a strategy that felt like a heist movie. The mission? Head to the Ibis Community Room for Pin Trade Hour and swap her way toward the ultimate haul. I had no idea how deep this rabbit hole went. There are Discord groups, websites, value charts; it’s a full-blown subculture. And while it’s not exactly my thing, I had an absolute ball.
My first trade was watching Alex swap her rare pin for all the planets… except Pluto. And yes, Pluto will always be a planet in my eyes. One pin for seven, pretty exciting and at that point i was invested. Then came the trams. Seven different tram pins, each earned by trading for a shot at a Plinko board. Whatever number it landed on, that was your tram. Weird concept, but surprisingly popular and dangerously addictive. Alex ended up with heaps of doubles, which turned out to be a blessing; everyone was swapping one-for-one, and she eventually completed the full tram set.
We even found a lovely lady who sold us, well, sold Alex, a few pins. Sorry, I got so invested in this mission that I started feeling like part of the crew. With that final pin, we were able to trade and finish off the planet set, too. Pluto was ours…. OK, hers…. but I helped!
That’s what I love about PAX Australia: there’s something for everyone. And even after all these years, I’m still discovering new corners of the chaos. So thanks, Alex, for popping my PAX Australia Pin cherry. I don’t know if I actually helped, but if you need a wingman next year, count me in.
Evacuations: Confusing, Mildly Annoying, Weirdly Bonding
There were evacuations. Not dramatic ones, thankfully, just enough to be inconvenient. Alarms went off. People shuffled outside. Some grumbled. Some laughed. It was one of those classic convention moments: a little chaos, a lot of confusion, and somehow, a strange sense of camaraderie.
And I had no idea it even happened.
I was deep in the hunt for pins, completely oblivious. When I finally emerged from the Ibis Community Room, I checked the Dezdoes team chat and found 37 messages waiting. The last 15 were pure sarcasm, mostly about how they were going to take over the site because I’d clearly perished in the blaze. Thanks, Ben and Kel, for caring so deeply. Nothing says “I love you” like a planned mutiny.
Final Thoughts: Still Finding Magic
I don’t know how PAX Australia keeps doing it. Every year I think I’ve seen it all, and every year, something unexpected pulls me in, whether it’s a cableless GPU that makes me whisper “wow,” a pin trading subculture I didn’t know existed, or a quiet moment watching strangers bond over board games and paint pots.
This year felt louder. Brighter. Bigger. But also more personal. The scale was massive, yes, but the heart seemed bigger than ever before. In the indie devs pitching wild ideas with nervous smiles, in the tabletop designers scribbling rule tweaks mid-demo, in the friends who planned mutinies when they thought I’d been lost to an evacuation.
There’s something about PAX Australia that’s hard to explain if you haven’t felt it. It’s not just a convention. It’s a living thing. A weekend-long pulse of creativity, chaos, and connection. You show up for the games, but you stay for the people. For the weird rituals. For the shared jokes and quiet nods of friends you only see at PAX Australia. For the feeling that, just for a few days, you’re part of something bigger.
So yeah, I didn’t plan to get into pin trading. I didn’t plan to fall in love with a playmat. I didn’t plan to lose track of time in a neon-lit booth watching colours breathe. But that’s PAX Australia. You don’t plan it. You just show up, and let it happen.
And next year? I’ll be back. Probably with a lanyard full of pins, a house deposit-sized budget for switches and keycaps, and a vague sense of guilt about my spending. But mostly, I’ll be back for the magic.
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