I also like how the combat encourages you to be thoughtful — but not without a sense that you need to micromanage your inventory. And it’s not a horror game so much as one where there’s a long-standing undercurrent of tension. You sit forward in your chair, always primed for something to happen when you’re navigating the desolate, empty world of the game. 

Which is probably why I’ve had to put it back on the shelf, for now. 

You see, I live on a major road and there’s always stuff going on — in the day, you have people going to work, the bar down the street getting deliveries. The trucks delivering food to the supermarkets, the vans bringing parcels to the logistics centers nearby. At night, the bar has live music, and in seven years of living here, you’re always reminded how close you are to other people. 

But, after the UK went into lockdown, all of that stopped, and the background noise of the world fell to silence. The traffic noise, the drunken revelers, the music, the chatter, all of it gone, and now looking out the window fills me with the same tension, and dread. It’s a real, sort of paranoia-inducing silence that can quickly stop being fun and start keeping you awake at night.