PC Gamer - UK (2022-02)

Y

ou emerge from the iron shack into a

luminous dawn, a blue hour vision of

crushed darks and saturated colours to

the susurrating of strings, pregnant

with tension. Before you, a stretch of

scrubland that peters out into the gleaming desert at

the reddening horizon. But in front of that is a car.

It’s a sports car of sorts, but you know this was born in a

second-string factory in the ’80s, its sharper corners now

unfashionable, its metaphorical corners cut. Racing stripes

are lost in a veneer of rust and decay. Yet you know that

this car was someone’s pride and joy, the result of many

nightshifts and dreary days. Now it’s a potent symbol of

the UAC’s deterioration. Misplaced money, exploitative

imports, shattered dreams... Then a dust cloud in the

distance signals that this moment of reverie is over,

and you have to shoot someone in the face.

This moment has stayed with me for more than

13 years. It was one of the most vivid places I had ever

experienced and sits with other distinct, sacred memories

both real and virtual, from approaching Rapture, to the

wonders of the Maasai Mara itself.

I loved Far Cry 2. There was atmosphere and

cinematography that Vittorio Storaro would have been

proud of, and a soundtrack that featured Baaba Maal.

There was a lightness of touch that demonstrated that

developers trusted the player to fill the blanks, if they

provided an immersive enough experience. Most of all,

I had dreamed of an FPS Elite, a truly open world I could

live in, and approach as I saw fit, with as few breaks in the

mise-en-scene as possible. I wasn’t disappointed.

I loved the actual map and GPS you hold up in

real-time, the healing animations, being revived then

carried to safety by acquaintances and the surrounding

desert providing the softest of invisible walls. All these

worked to sustain immersion, even if the game’s desire for

verisimilitude bore contrarian fruit. The prevalent opinion

was that much of it sucked.

Most were irritated by the recurrent bouts of malaria,

but I thought this was genius. Likewise both sides in this

war, equally mired in murder and corruption, want to kill

you, regardless of what you do for them. This means that

you’re being shot at, by everyone, all the time.

“I can’t drive anywhere without being chased,” was the

common complaint amongst folk.

To which my answer was, “You drove places?” If you

weren’t hiking into the mountains to watch the sun set

over the savannah between missions, you were playing

the game wrong. I suppose this was where gamers began

to diverge, now that the worlds were open and real

enough, between those who were all about the ’splodes

and mayhem, and those for whom walking simulators

would later be designed. The latter would populate the

hills and forests of Day Z and Rust, harried by the former,

before leaving to fall in love with Delilah in Firewatch.

BED & WRECKFEST

I’ve had a hankering to return to the UAC, and it’s the

hiking, the sunsets, and the zebras that I’m after. A

holiday. I’m not interested in the journey to the heart of

darkness or the nihilism, I’m not even after the Jackal as

such. He’s just an optional day excursion.

So, no unnecessary deaths. No guns. No moral

relativism. Just a good time.

I get the taxi from the airport, which is how all

vacations start. I see the locals flee, surrendering the

battlefield to the thieving westerners. It’s okay, I’m going

to leave all this behind and ‘see the real UAC’ like some

entitled backpacker.

I don’t remember the intro tutorial being quite so

linear though. Malaria dominates the opening scenes.

I pass out and wake to meet my target, the Jackal, who

quotes Nietzsche like an alt-right teen. I escape a firefight

in the town without spilling blood, before losing

consciousness again, to be rescued by one of the many

militia parasites. He sends me on my first murder, but I’m

on holiday so I get in the waiting coupé and try to drive

away. I hit an in-universe invisible wall – another severe

dose that sends me right back to where I started. I’m not

going to get any sight-seeing done

until I get some medicine.

Thus, I’m stuck doing awkward

stealth in a warren of narrow valleys

and gloomy ravines, under overcast

skies. I’m noisy without any of the

buffs and get swiftly made. I can’t

explode a red barrel without

unloading a full clip into it. I’ll need a

more powerful pistol at the very least.

I have a shopping list already, which

will require diamonds, so I have

busywork to do. Between pretending

my car is an ‘environmental hazard’,

and my machete, I jump the hoops

and get a lead on some meds.

I notice the GPS is now clear...

So once I’ve got my chloroquine,

or whatever, the away-break can

begin. I wanted those savannahs,

those zebras, those deserts,

those skies. Now I can get them.

I SUPPOSE THIS WAS

WHERE GAMERS BEGAN

TO DIVERGE

EXTRA LIFE

NOW PLAYING I UPDATE I MOD SPOTLIGHT I HOW TO I DIARY (^) I WHY I LOVE I REINSTALL I M U S T P L A Y
“We become what
we hate.”
THE RULES

1. Avoid fights.
   Only self-defence.


2. No guns.
   Only takedowns and
   environmental kills to
   progress story.


3. Take holiday snaps
   and have myself a
   lovely time.