One particular moment where he alights at a payphone is, in hindsight, beautifully sad and poignant. Mind you, the protagonist doesn’t do himself any favours in this department.įor a silent character, The Final Station’s train conductor communicated a lot. The folks you come across have bars indicating their ability at crafting, making med kits, and how talkative they are – those car rides can get awful lonely. You’ll come across stranded people just as in the main game only here, you can choose to take or leave them – that two-seater means you’re going to have to be choosey. Levels spill outwards from where you park the car, and the gear you need will be littered left and right, breathing a non-linear feel to the exploration. Satisfying in the hand, it sends foes careening across rooms on a charged-up swing it feels empowering, allowing you to control distance and crowding more effectively than with your bare mitts alone. Not only do these add variety to combat, but some of them are real bullet-sponges, giving you a need – albeit a relatively weak need – to keep half an eye on your ammo. New enemies are mingled in with the old: a green-eyed walker that gobs acid at you from afar, a shuffling ghoul that crawls along the floor after it’s been downed, and a foe that amps up its aggression when hit or shot enough – its red eyes aglow. There’s an ample few volts of challenge charged through it for starters – the first time I died was a shocking jolt to the system, one I was glad for.
The symbolic restraints of the main game’s train track may be gone, but you are bound now in a meaningless and merely mechanical way.īut the mechanical, fortunately, is where The Only Traitor shines.