Like the repeating pattern effect afflicting its warped Manhattan, Control Resonant threw me for a loop. One minute I would be brutally slashing and smashing my way through hordes of inhuman enemies, enacting a never-ending chain combo of bellowing violence with my Aberrant, and the next minute I would be scanning nearby rooftops for signs of a squeaking purple dragon plushie to give to a very wiggly dog (who, I was pretty sure, could teleport). Combat often felt desperate and bloody; knockdown-and-drag-out brawls that had me limping away like John Wick after a particularly messy gunkata affair. Still, these fights all ended eventually, and in their place was not always more action-RPG battling but, more often, an odd sense of melancholic peace and quiet. It’s a strange dichotomy I’ve been thinking about nearly nonstop since I finished my first playthrough.

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