Mirror’s Edge Catalyst is a game of thumps and scuffs and clanks, of the sound of a guard’s mask cracking beneath an upswept knee, or the pliant *foof* of one of the springy crates scattered generously across the rooftops of its futuristic city for no real reason. But it’s also a game of silence. In those brief, breath-held moments as you make a speculative leap across seemingly impossible gaps, or the half-second between having run up a wall and you spinning back onto an enforcer’s softened skull.
Each sound (or the lack of one) is a marker of your actions in a game where every inch of the world is interactive in some way – something to run on, clamber up, bound over, or kick disablingly in the solar plexus. It’s a bewildering, and nearly transparent, achievement.
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Each sound (or the lack of one) is a marker of your actions in a game where every inch of the world is interactive in some way – something to run on, clamber up, bound over, or kick disablingly in the solar plexus. It’s a bewildering, and nearly transparent, achievement.
Continue reading…
Continue reading...