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Games developed by Epoch Co., Ltd.

We provide a list of companies that developed abandonware games. Select a company to view its games. To make searching easier, use pagination by number or letter.

Astro Bomber

Astro Bomber arrived in 1984 as a standout title for the Epoch Game Pocket Computer, a compact marvel born from the dawn of affordable handheld gaming. The machine itself offered a crunchy, amber LCD and a modest memory bank, yet it invited bold ideas. Astro Bomber took advantage of that clever hardware by presenting crisp, tile based graphics and a fast, responsive action loop. Players held a tiny console in one hand and steered a nimble craft through orbiting lanes, blasting scraps of meteor and alien drone while trying to conserve energy for the long haul. It felt like something fragile yet urgent, a pocket sized dare for curious minds. Designers loaded the game with a compact but cunning set of rules. The ship could thrust, rotate, and fire, but momentum did not vanish instantly, forcing rough timing and practiced reflexes. The screen was awash with blinking silhouettes of asteroids, satellites, and hostile flotillas. Power ups appeared as shimmering capsules that granted temporary enhancements such as rapid fire, shield, or a wider blast. Each stage introduced new hazards, from cunning mine fields to swarms of micro aliens that exploited the margins of visibility. The challenge rewarded patient pilots who studied wave patterns and learned to anticipate danger rather than chase speed. From a technical vantage point, Astro Bomber demonstrated how far a tiny platform could push into strategic play. The visuals used a limited color set and bold shapes, but the design conveyed clear depth: currents of space, distant planets, and looming danger. Audio was a chorus of crisp beeps and muted alarms that matched the tempo of action. The sound design lent urgency without overwhelming the ear, a rare balance in a device with a speaker that could double as a drum. The control feel was forgiving enough to learn, yet merciless when players rushed into a trap. Critics praised its crisp pacing and the gleam of novelty from a handheld unit packed with thrills. Astro Bomber carved a niche among early portable shooters, teaching players to think in short bursts rather than sprawling campaigns. Its legacy lives on as modern micro games embrace bite sized challenges and direct feedback. Collectors prize the cartridge for its mechanical charm and the snapshot of 1980s ingenuity. For a device designed to amuse on commutes, the game delivered a stubbornly satisfying grind that invites one more run, each session a tiny ritual.

Astro Wars

Astro Wars is a fixed-screen arcade-style shooter released for Epoch's Super Cassette Vision in 1984. The game places the player in the depths of space, defending an orbital outpost from waves of hostile vessels. The participant's craft is a compact starfighter located at the bottom of the playfield, maneuvered horizontally with a joystick or directional pad and a single button for firing. Enemies approach from the upper portion of the screen in predetermined formations, their trajectories designed to test timing, accuracy, and reflex. Core play revolves around clearing each screen by destroying all invaders while avoiding enemy fire. Shots ascend from the player's craft, colliding with enemy units to remove them; incoming projectiles and contact with ships reduce the player's lives. When a formation is destroyed, the player is awarded points and often receives a temporary power-up that increases firing rate, broadens shot spread, or provides a brief shield. Progression proceeds through a series of increasingly rapid and dense waves, with a game over condition ending the run. Visual presentation emphasizes clear, legible sprites against a star-lit backdrop. Alien ships are rendered as simple geometric shapes with contrasting colors to distinguish enemy types, while the player's vessel includes smooth animation for thrust and laser fire. The action unfolds on a single fixed screen with no scrolling or parallax movement; elements are sized to maintain visibility as the pace escalates. Color usage remains restrained, aligning with the era's hardware limits while preserving readable contrast. Audio is composed of concise, digital-sounding effects generated by the console's sound capabilities. Laser shots produce sharp blips, explosions erupt in short, bright bursts, and the occasional warning tone signals impending danger. The game's tempo is underscored by minimalist cues rather than a looping musical score, with sound design tuned to provide immediate feedback for hits, misses, and successful wave clear. Astro Wars offers a straightforward, pick-up-and-play experience designed for quick sessions yet capable of sustained challenge. The controls are responsive, the enemy patterns reward anticipation, and the scoring system provides motivation to improve. The progression through successive waves delivers a steady rhythm of risk and reward, inviting players to master shot timing, movement discipline, and defensive awareness. In the arcades of living rooms and console setups, Astro Wars formed a familiar, accessible entry into the era's space shoot-’em-ups.

Astro Wars II: Battle in Galaxy

Astro Wars II: Battle in Galaxy, released in 1984 for the Epoch Super Cassette Vision, extends the space-opera action of the original title with a broader campaign and intensified combat sequences. The player commands a compact starfighter tasked with defending a chain of Allied outposts spread across a mutating galaxy as a renewed Zorgon offensive presses toward the core worlds. Each sector introduces a new arrangement of enemy fleets and obstacles, culminating in a boss encounter that tests quick reflexes and strategic firing. The mission screen remains a bordered arena, with a scrolling starfield that reinforces the sense of motion through deep space. Controls and mechanics: Players maneuver in all four directions with the joystick and fire with the action button, offering precise control over your ship’s positioning and bloom of fire. A secondary power-up system provides temporary enhancements such as a spread-shot barrage, a protective shield, or a limited homing missile. Power-ups appear as pulsing capsules dropped by defeated crafts and must be collected before they vanish. Contact with enemy vessels, projectiles, or environmental hazards costs a life; collecting bonus tokens extends the run. Scoring rewards both routine eliminations and rapid chain defeats, with large bonuses awarded for conquering sector bosses. Visuals: The game employs a bold, blocky sprite language typical of early Cassette Vision releases. The player craft and enemy units are clearly differentiated through silhouette and color, set against a star-swept backdrop decorated by a two-layer parallax to imply depth. Ship designs range from nimble interceptors to heavier cruisers, each with distinct attack motifs. Explosions are succinct, flashing as the enemy ships dissolve, and the trailing exhaust on the player craft adds a sense of speed within the fixed playfield. The color palette is bright and high-contrast, chosen to stand out on the console’s display. Audio: Sound effects consist of crisp laser blips, short impact tones, and chunky explosion bursts, all synthesized within the hardware constraints of the console. The audiovisual loop includes a brief melodic cue between sectors that helps mark progression through the galaxy. Enemy volleys produce a staccato chorus of hits, while successful dodges refresh the bravura of the player's ship. The overall soundscape remains concise and functional, delivering clear feedback for every shot and collision without overwhelming the senses. Player experience: Astro Wars II rewards precise maneuvering, careful energy management, and pattern recognition. The difficulty curve introduces more complex enemy formations and faster boss attacks as the sectors advance, inviting players to refine timing and firing decisions. The power-up ecosystem encourages experimentation while preserving the challenge by limiting the duration of enhancements. The game offers a satisfying sense of progression as players clear sector after sector, mix in strategic risk-taking with safe play, and chase higher scores through efficient routes and bold, decisive actions across a galaxy under siege.

Comic Circus

Comic Circus, released in 1985 for the Epoch Super Cassette Vision, places players inside a bright, bustling big top where the show must go on. Players assume the role of a nimble clown acrobat whose mission is to restore the splendor of the performance by collecting scattered props and repairing acts across a sequence of linked stages. The setting merges vaudeville whimsy with comic-strip energy, offering a continuous, venue-spanning adventure that remains faithful to the theatrical humor of the era. Each act presents a self-contained challenge, from acrobatic ropes to juggling routines; the player's timing and precision determine how smoothly the ringmaster's schedule progresses. Gameplay emphasizes thoughtful platform action across a mix of horizontal and vertical layouts. The clown navigates by running, jumping, and swinging on ropes or trapezes, with climbing and dodging woven into the rhythm of each act. A central tool, the pie-thrower, lets the player hurl harmless projectiles at bumbling performers and obstacles, turning mischief into opportunity rather than menace. Scoring stems from collecting tickets, bells, and candy while chaining successful acts, and bonus routes are unlocked by meeting on-screen objectives. Hazards include slick oil patches, rolling props, and circus animals that move in recognizable, repeatable patterns, encouraging pattern recognition and careful timing. The visual presentation leans into bold, cartoonish sprites with thick black outlines and a saturated color palette that mimics a comic-book print. Backgrounds layer with moderate parallax to imply depth, while foreground elements stay crisp against the action. Characters animate with a limited but expressive frame set, delivering snappy reactions to pies, collisions, and landings. Transitions between acts use short, panel-like cuts that evoke comic panels stepping through a story, reinforcing the title’s theatrical conceit. Overall, the aesthetic communicates clarity of action and a playful sense of spectacle appropriate to a live circus performance. Audio design complements the visual whimsy with bright, looping chiptune melodies and brisk percussion that evoke marching bands and stage drums. Sound effects are punchy and cartoonish, from the whoosh of a rope swing to the splat of a pie and the cheers of a delighted crowd. The audio balance keeps pace with the clockwork tempo of the acts, rewarding precise timing with satisfying audio cues. Together, the audio and visuals create an immersive atmosphere that reinforces the humor and rhythm of daily life inside a performing circus. Player experience centers on rhythm, memory, and experimentation. The game rewards careful observation of enemy patterns and stage mechanics, inviting repeated play to master routes and timing windows. The progression feels fair, with each act building on established skills while introducing new platforming challenges, traps, and props. The result is a cohesive blend of humor and skill that supports short, focused sessions and longer sessions alike, delivering a sense of accomplishment as the circus doors swing open for another performance.

Doraemon

Epoch’s Doraemon for the Super Cassette Vision, released in 1985, presents the famous robotic-cat in a licensed action-adventure built for home play. Players follow Doraemon, assisted by friends, across a sequence of playful worlds where fragments of a lost device must be gathered and returned to balance the timeline. The game unfolds as linked stages set in a cheerful urban district, a gadget factory, a sunlit countryside, and subterranean passages. Its design emphasizes precise jumping, careful timing, and quick reflexes, delivering a brisk, family-friendly quest through familiar corners of Doraemon’s world. Control is simple and responsive: a joystick guides Doraemon left and right, while a single action button jumps and an additional input deploys pocket gadgets earned or found on screen. The pocket items are limited, encouraging strategic use. Early stages teach the basic rhythm: collect, time your jumps, and avoid hazards. The gadget system draws from Doraemon’s iconic repertoire—a Take-copter for limited flight across gaps, a Dokodemo Door effect to shortcut sections, and utility devices that alter pathways or temporarily neutralize traps. Mastery comes from predicting when each device can unlock progress. Visually, the game embraces a bright, cartoon-like palette with clean sprite art and tile-based backgrounds. Doraemon and his companions move with smooth, economical animation, while enemy figures—toy robots and other light-hearted automatons—present non-lethal challenges. Environments use parallax layers to convey depth, and stage elements such as floating platforms and conveyor sections test timing and gadget use. Level design balances exploration with linear progression, introducing optional routes and hidden items that reward careful navigation. The overall look remains faithful to the character's world, translating the license into approachable, kid-friendly visuals on the 8-bit screen. Audio accompaniment complements the visuals with cheerful synthesized tunes and crisp effects. Each world receives a distinctive musical motif that stays lively during platform sequences and relaxes for puzzle moments. Jumping, gadget activation, and item collection trigger satisfying pops and chirps that communicate action without distraction. The game rewards patient play through score bonuses and resource management, encouraging players to revisit stages to improve gadget usage and timing. Taken together, Doraemon on the Super Cassette Vision offers accessible, family-oriented play that emphasizes clever gadget use, precise control, and the warm, familiar feel of the series in a compact, responsive package.

Doraemon: Nobita to Fukkatsu no Hoshi

Doraemon: Nobita to Fukkatsu no Hoshi, also known as Doraemon: Doraemon's Resurrection of the Star, was a highly-anticipated SEGA Saturn game released in 1996. Developed by SIMS Co. Ltd., the game was based on the popular Japanese manga and anime series, Doraemon, created by Fujiko Fujio. This action-adventure game allowed players to experience the world of Doraemon and his friends through interactive gameplay and vibrant graphics. Set in a future world, the game follows the adventures of a young boy named Nobita and his robotic cat, Doraemon. The story starts with a mysterious villain stealing the stars from the night sky, including the star that grants Doraemon his powers. As a result, the world is thrown into chaos and it's up to Nobita and Doraemon to go on a journey to retrieve the stolen stars and restore order to the universe. The gameplay of Doraemon: Nobita to Fukkatsu no Hoshi is divided into several world stages, each with its own challenges and puzzles. Players control Nobita as he explores various environments, including cities, forests, and outer space. Along the way, they must use Doraemon's gadgets, such as the "Anywhere Door" and the "Bamboo Copter," to overcome obstacles and defeat enemies. The gadgets add an element of creativity and fun to the gameplay, making it exciting for both children and adults. One of the highlights of the game is its impressive graphics, which were ahead of its time in 1996. The characters are beautifully rendered in 3D, and the colorful environments are a delight to explore. The soundtrack of the game also adds to the overall immersive experience, with catchy tunes that transport players into the world of Doraemon. Furthermore, the game also features animated cutscenes that further enhance the storytelling and bring the characters to life. Doraemon: Nobita to Fukkatsu no Hoshi was well-received by both critics and fans of the series. Its engaging gameplay, charming characters, and top-notch graphics were praised by reviewers. The game sold over 200,000 copies in Japan alone and was later released in other countries, such as China and South Korea, cementing its popularity worldwide. In addition to its success as a video game, Doraemon: Nobita to Fukkatsu no Hoshi also had a significant impact on future SEGA Saturn games. It was one of the first games to feature fully animated cutscenes and its success paved the way for more anime and manga-based games on the console.

Dragon Ball: Dragon Daihikyō

Dragon Ball: Dragon Daihikyō is an action-adventure title released in 1986 for the Epoch Super Cassette Vision, designed to blend exploration, combat, and puzzle-solving into a cohesive journey. Players assume the role of a determined martial artist on a quest to recover seven Dragon Balls scattered across a stylized world. Each ball is secured behind trials that test timing, wit, and mastery of both movement and combat. The overarching objective is to summon Shenlong to grant a single wish, with the adventure unfolding across a sequence of connected environments that encourage thorough exploration. The game presents a world rendered in bold, pixel-based graphics that suit the Epoch’s color constraints while evoking the spirit of adventure from the Dragon Ball universe. Environments range from sun-drenched plains and tranquil villages to shadowed caves and ancient temples, each populated with characters, creatures, and minor obstacles. Visuals emphasize clear silhouettes and strong outlines, with sprite work that communicates enemy behavior and terrain features at a glance. The user interface displays health, a ki or energy gauge, collected Dragon Balls, and quest indicators to guide progress without interrupting play. Gameplay emphasizes a balance of movement, melee combat, and energy-based attacks. The joystick governs traversal across tile-like stages and side-scrolling segments, while buttons initiate light attacks, kicks, or charged energy blasts. Attacks deplete the ki gauge, inviting players to manage offense and timing as foes respond with patterned counters. Several stages incorporate puzzle elements—hidden switches, blocked passages, and item-locked doors—requiring careful observation and exploration to uncover concealed routes or acquire power-ups. Boss encounters emphasize attack patterns and directional dodges, inviting a rhythm of anticipation and reaction. The audio design complements the visual presentation with crisp, beep-and-blip sound effects for footsteps, impact, and weapon discharges. Energy blasts yield distinctive whooshes, and successful hits punctuate progress with small, satisfying audio cues. Background music consists of looping chiptune melodies that shift to reflect area mood, from calm village motifs to more intense temple cues during trials. The overall player experience aims for coherence and momentum: progress feels earned through exploration, enemy engagement, and situational puzzles, with the sense of a sprawling odyssey anchored by a clear, goal-driven arc. The result is a faithful, self-contained adventure that captures the excitement of Dragon Ball within the practical limits of the Epoch hardware.

Pocket Computer Mahjong

Pocket Computer Mahjong arrived in 1984 as a curious artifact of the era when tiny microcomputers began to fit into people's pockets. Made for the Epoch Game Pocket Computer, the title married a venerable board game with the practicality of a handheld machine. Its design favored simplicity: a fixed black and white LCD, a crammed grid of tiles, and a handful of physical buttons that rewarded patient tapping rather than rapid reflexes. Players did not conquer vast worlds; they solved puzzles, one layout at a time. The release reflected Epoch’s habit of pairing playfields with programmable hardware for hobbyists everywhere. Across its dozen or so boards the game presented a gentler challenge than arcade action yet demanded sharp pattern recall. The object was to clear the screen by linking identical tiles that were free from obstructions on either side and above, a constraint that produced elegant spirals of removal. Some layouts favored symmetry, others favored asymmetry, all arranged to tease short term memory. A timer whispering in the corner urged steady pace, while subtle on screen cues guided unsure fingers toward legal moves. Victory felt earned rather than handed, a quiet triumph for those who watched the grid breathe closely. Visually the Pocket Computer Mahjong favored a minimalistic charm that modern screens seldom replicate. Tiles bore simple glyphs, crisp edges against pale backgrounds, with an analytic grid that kept space at a premium. When a match disappeared the screen refreshed with a tiny ripple, a modest flourish that satisfied without overstaying its welcome. Sound design was utilitarian: a gentle ping for valid moves and a softer chime on clears. The tactile rhythm came from brushing square keys, not from cinematic spectacle. The overall presentation echoed the era’s devotion to functional elegance and the joy of solitary play in quiet corners. Pocket Computer Mahjong sits among the curiosities of retro computing, prized by collectors who chase hardware that once tethered players to a tiny screen. It embodies a moment when game design learned restraint, turning skill into a meditative puzzle rather than a chase for high scores. Enthusiasts recount teletype like manuals tucked beside early batteries, and the faint scent of plastic that marked a bygone era. Though obscure, the game influenced later portable mahjong interpretations by proving that compact devices could host well crafted logic games. In its quiet way the release helped seed affection for pocket sized entertainment.

Pocket Computer Reversi

In 1984 Epoch introduced a pocket sized computing line that carried its own take on classic Reversi, a model simply titled Pocket Computer Reversi. The hardware was purpose built for portable play, a compact chassis housing a tiny monochrome LCD, a cursor pad, and a handful of sturdy keys. On awakening the device reveals a clean 8 by 8 grid rendered in jagged pixels, inviting a duel where discs flip color with precise moves. The marriage of small display and crisp logic gave this release a distinctly era defining aura. The input scheme uses a directional pad to sweep a highlighted square across the board and a single action button to place a disc. With limited resolution the programmers relied on clear feedback: the flips appear as the line of captured pieces fills, the turn indicator and a simple score readout stay visible at the screen edge. Under the hood the AI executes shallow search, balanced by a modest timer, pitting human patience against a digitized opponent who learns only from board geometry. The game follows Reversi rules with a compact yet faithful interpretation. Moves trigger flips when lines of opponent discs are bracketed, and the interface highlights legal plays to guide newcomers while still demanding forethought from veterans. Even on a cramped screen, strategic elements shine: timely use of corner positions, the subtle dance around edges, and the endgame discipline of counting possible reversals. If no legal move exists, the program skips turn, a small pause allowing the human player to recalibrate plans. In the broader ecosystem of early portable consoles this release stood apart as a thoughtful brain teaser rather than a mere time killer. It found a small but loyal audience among puzzle enthusiasts seeking a pocket companion that rewarded patience rather than flashy reflexes. Collectors prize units with intact screens and crisp key action, while historians note the title as a time capsule for how micro machines attempted to teach strategy on the move. It also foreshadowed later handhelds that packaged classic strategy titles into slim forms. Today the pocket edition remains a curious artifact for galleries of retro gaming, a reminder that portable play could demand intellect as well as dexterity. Emulation preserves its quirks, letting a new audience glimpse the tactile rhythm of button presses and the stubborn glow of a monochrome display. The game itself shows that lean hardware can host enduring puzzles, inviting patient minds to map clever lines and outwit a modest algorithm. For collectors and curious readers, its story mirrors the arc of 1980s tech optimism.
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