ADR1FT

It's amazing sometimes just how little fear can overwhelm us. Sometimes, all it takes is a feeling of being completely and utterly alone. ADR1FT does a phenomenal job of drawing the player into a world that is both beautiful and terrifying. It's easy to get lost in the almost Zen-like peace and tranquility of floating through space and what remains of the Northstar IV. But right about then is when you hear your character gasping for breath, her air supply dwindling and her vision clouding, and your chest tightens, your throat closes, and you feel panic. Grabbing an oxygen canister, both you and your character take in a deep breath and once again appreciate the sense of dread.

While much of the tension is intentional, some of the frustration isn't. The controls, by default, are difficult to get the hang of. Too much thrust, and you burn up precious oxygen while flying right past your intended target. Too little, and you trudge through at a pace that would make a turtle feel like a cheetah. The same applies for pitch, roll, and every other control. None of that compares, though, to the irritation of reaching out for an item, only to just miss it and watch as you float helplessly past it. Actually, there's one worse feeling, and that's when you accidentally bump into whatever item you're reaching for and knock it clear across the room or out into the abyss. Players can adjust some of the sensitivity levels to help out, but ultimately controlling your character is simply a matter of patience and precision -- two things difficult to keep in mind as you're reminding yourself to breathe.