Chaos. There’s no other word for it. Some huge dude’s stomping around, just waiting for an excuse to fly into a rage if you move so much as an inch, and the teammate who just walked up to me turns out not to be a teammate at all but is instead – inexplicably – their maniacal evil twin who plunges a knife into my guts. I try to run – even though I already know that running never, ever works out for me here – grabbing the film reel as I do so, only there’s a nun mannequin doing something so incredibly un-nunly in the middle of the table that I stop to gawp. She’s not… look, I know the Outlast games aren’t known for their subtlety, but she’s not doing what I think she is, is she? But then the evil twin of my teammate knifes me again and I stumble to the floor.
I spend a lot of time in The Outlast Trials stumbling about, lost and afraid, slipping about in the crimson spatter that coats every square inch of this place, screaming and running and screaming some more as abominations yanked from a Ronald McDonald fever dream scuttle in my wake, screeching for my blood. (Almost) Every one of them has their own particular foible – the huge dude can’t duck into the waist-high passageways; the night vision dude is blind when he’s dragged into the light – but do you think I’m remembering that as I crash down the corridor, detonating every mine and smacking into every sound alarm, the greedy gasps of my pursuer hot and heavy in my ears? I can’t think rationally here – I can barely think at all. It’s why the dudes in the white coats behind frosted glass always seem so disappointed in me when I emerge, pale and shaky, at the end of each trial. They don’t seem to care that for someone like me – someone who tries so hard to be stealthy but has been steadily giving themselves away since Snake first met Meryl – emerging at all is the victory.
There’s a story here, but it’s pretty light touch. Murkoff’s back – although it doesn’t really matter if you’re new to the franchise and that name means nothing to you – and this time, a whole bevvy of cold science bros are giddy at the prospect of testing a range of mind control techniques on a bunch of hapless, hopeless souls in the grip of the Cold War. You’ll be put through a series of excruciating “trials” designed to test the limits of your endurance, each more twisted and wicked than the last. A confusing maze of a police station. An obscene facsimile of an orphanage. The shadowy alleys of an amusement park where the only fun you’ll find is within your funeral coffin.
Source – eurogamer.net
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