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Kid Icarus Uprising Review: Stunning Despite Stumbling

Posted: 19 Mar 2012 09:24 AM PDT

See the child. Hear her beckon forth, surrounded by the carcasses of men harboring murderous intent. Men you ended. Their last breath whispering about the sweetness of a child, or the satisfaction of killing the interloper that you are. Save the child, who you thought was yourn, but she reveals herself to be Mei lost in the world of dust, not the daughter you left behind twelve months ago. The voice in your pocket sputters forth. The man named Henry asks, take her, take the lost child Mei, take her to the mall. Give her medicine left behind by those who never set foot in Haventown, those who drop foodstuffs and medicines from above and never look back. Not since The Event. The Event that scraped the loam off the earth and turned it into the dust that hugs and holds and kills all who wander within. The dust that chips and gnaws at your very stamina. The Event that dominates I Am Alive.

So you go, ever pressing on to find wife and child. Gone a year, but now you return, to climb and cobble and carry on. You cannot ignore Mei’s bleat for aid, but other survivors of the Event not so much as settle but subsist their meager existences in the dust covered Haventown. A man yearns cigarettes to pass on. Another man in an amusement park needs medicine to heal the leg that’s been crushed by another uncivilized man. Haventown also starves for supplies. Bottles of water, cans of fruit cocktail, a single inhaler, a handful of painkillers, these all turn into precious manna from heaven through scarcity. Give the emergency kit to the woman with the ankle sprain? What these bemoaning folk have to give, besides gratitude and perhaps a precious shotgun, is the Retry. Haventown harbors death by trial, not saves. It does not yield to the checkpoint that others call for. It takes away a Retry from your knapsack for every fall, stab, or shot you suffer. Deplete your store of Retries, and your journey resumes at the beginning of your current episode. A practice that leeches away minutes of your life. A practice that mocks you by depleting Retries and then flings you back to 45 minutes ago. What is worth more, the rat meat that can heal you, or the Retry that you get for giving rat meat to the gurgling man below? Every survivor, like the woman bound by handcuff to a bench, pleads for help while you mind debates.

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