In which we do exactly what it says on the tin.

This is the final final post of the Infinite. And what a ride it was.
The game started with a good idea, warped and twisted by blind implementation of legacy mechanics without sufficient anchoring in the world and the fact that they did Columbia as a shooter with a mediocre-at-best gunplay. Then we were given some more gunplay. THEN we were given everything missing and some more: the Burial at Sea-DLC did so many things so right that it is both a shame and totally incomprehensible how this could happen.

In which we visit some more medical facilities, watch a recording happen and see the end of it all.

In which we encounter a disturbingly correct depiction, visit a well-known place of literature and see some sense in the opening section.

During this part of the game, both the player character and an underage nonplayer character are subjected against their will to an invasive psychosurgical procedure. If such things disturb you, stop reading.

In which we turn a giant clock, visit the first of several medical institutions and find ourselves confronted with a sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

In which we talk about the stealth mechanics, sneak round and round and round and repair a plot magic device.

In which we meet old friends, visit the Happy, Well Adjusted And Socially Capable Children Daycare and a sex shop.

Yes, you read that right. You’ve been warned.

In which we visit nice Paris, gloomy Paris and a toy store in a strictly linear fashion.

In which we meet old friends, older friends and the plot twist.

In which we meet Sander Cohen, a plot door, and a bunch of mad men.

In which we meet a mysterious client, light a cigarette and move through a believable setting.