You find yourself abruptly and arbitrarily selected as the CEO of a Swiss conglomerate whose prior leader suddenly divested all of its holdings and people, then disappeared. Neither its Board of Directors nor its managerial AI seem terribly pertubed, seeing this as a natural part of the corporation's ebb and flow. So begins Holonoptic, with the snow blowing across the vaulted windows of the company's last physical asset: Your office.
Someone reading my reviews above might get the impression that I open a demo looking for things to piss me off. In reality, it's the other way around. You think I try new games because I hate new things? No! Just as the restaurant critic isn't the loudmouth holding forth on wine and sending dishes back to the kitchen, but the unassuming sort tucked in at a side table and trying desperately to have a good time, I start on every game's side, willing and able to cooperate in its showing me what it's got.
Holonoptic is rough. It's clumsy. It's bewildering, and approaches its subject at such a high level that there's barely any oxygen.
I love it.
The vibes are impeccable. It feels amazing. The writing has understated style the likes to which blatherers like The Life and Suffering of Prince Jerian can't touch. The systems, simple as they are, have a cold, alien gloss that expresses cyberpunk better than Cyberpunk.
Of everything I've so far played, I recommend Holonoptic the loudest. It's not for everyone, but it is for me.
