“Rise and shine, Mr. Freeman. Rise and shine. Not that I wish to imply that you’ve been sleeping on the job. No one is more deserving of a rest, and all the effort in the world would’ve gone to waste until…well, let’s just say your hour has come again. The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference in the world. So, wake up, Mr. Freeman. Wake up and…smell the ashes…”

For as monumental a game as the first Half-Life was, it’s astounding how its 2004 sequel, Half-Life 2, has completely eclipsed its impact. Lest we forget how groundbreaking and influential the first Half-Life’s innovations were not only to the FPS genre, but how it indelibly affected the entire gaming zeitgeist that will persist until the heat death of the universe. If one witnesses a game with seamless cutscenes, a linear progression path where the breaks between them are but brief loading screens, exuding a bleak atmosphere in an organic, somewhat plausible environment, one can infer that the game has an umbilical cord stemming from Half-Life feeding it inspirational nutrients. However, upon poking and prodding a developer in an attempt to force them into fessing up on the extent of how much they’ve borrowed from Valve’s visionary masterwork, they’ll never cite it as where their direction for their project initially sparked. Despite how ungrateful and downright transparent this might seem without the proper context, they’ll actually refer to Half-Life 2 as their muse every time. After all, the unique idiosyncrasies that Half-Life pioneered didn’t catch on until Half-Life 2’s release, and many of its followers proved to be some of the era-defining titles of their generation. Why does Half-Life 2 receive the credit for Valve’s revolutionary accomplishments when we can all clearly see that its predecessor was the title that furnished all of these ingenious attributes? To be quite frank, the simple reason is that Half-Life 2 is exceptionally better than the game from which it's inheriting its genetic material. Many gamers believe that the extent of Half-Life 2’s superiority is so immense that it renders the first game obsolete, a beta test merely displaying all of the innovative strides in their fetal form before launching them to prime time with the sequel. I, for one, am not this overzealous in displacing Half-Life 2 over Valve’s previous output despite my shared opinion that it triumphs over it in every possible manner. Both are distinctive enough to warrant existing on their own merits. However, Half-Life 2 excels in every single mechanical aspect of the game that plotted out the Half-Life formula, so it’s no wonder why the general public lauds it as Valve’s crowning contribution to gaming.

Half-Life 2’s status as a direct sequel is muddied enough that it’s really up to the player’s own interpretation. Yes, everyone can plainly see that the events of Half-Life 2 transpire after the first game with a cause-and-effect kind of correlation. However, the question that the game leaves suspended in the air of loose ambiguity is how suddenly this game begins after the first one ends. Half-Life 2’s introductory image mirrors the concluding sequence that finished the previous game: the shifty, enigmatic G-Man monologues to Gordon Freeman about his indispensable role in the impending chaos and disorder that will render this world in a state of ruin. Or, Gordon’s onus to ameliorate the collapse that has befallen it already. This ethereal, transient character acts as the conjunctive tendon that connects the distinct narratives of the two games. What piqued my curiosity was the bridge of inactivity wedged between both of them. As claimed in his opening statement, the G-Man isn’t suggesting that Gordon has been slacking on his duties. Still, there is a hint of idleness to Gordon’s status regarding his proactive efforts to the cause, whatever that may be. Is this sequel the “next assignment” that the G-Man alluded to at the very end of the first game, imploring him to teleport to it via a green portal? Is it a cheeky meta-comment on how the players themselves have been inoperative in controlling Gordon because of a six-year development period between the two titles? Whatever the true implications behind the G-Man’s oblique words are, the player can definitely see that an inordinate amount of time has passed since the last Half-Life game after his ominous preamble finishes and Gordon snaps back to reality.

Instead of being taken on a tram ride through a sightseeing tour, Half-Life 2’s approach of introducing the player to its setting and letting them marinate in its tone is a tad more manual. After the public transit stops, an eyesore video broadcast of a gray-haired man in brown business attire informs Gordon that a place called City 17 is his destination. Gordon’s exit trajectory out of the metro station has the unenthusiastic, wistful pacing of escorting incoming prisoners to their maximum security cells, or even cattle with the awareness that they’re being led to the slaughter. It could be the fact that the NPCs that are on the same pathway as Gordon don muted blue jumpsuits, and the stationed, uniformed men wearing gas masks conduct the flow of arrivals with the curt assertiveness of prison guards. We formally understand the orderly scope of this sequence when Gordon diverts from his intended path and the masked officers beeline up one of the city’s dilapidated apartment complexes to forcefully apprehend him. Once Gordon gets backed into a corner and one of these figures has the opportunity to concuss him, one of them surprisingly returns the favor to Gordon’s assailant and then leads him into a safer area. Gordon’s savior is a man named Barney who has been masquerading as one of the guards as a spy for the “resistance,” a group of people that Gordon must get acquainted with as soon as possible.

If there was any lingering doubt as to whether or not Black Mesa or the American government successfully contained the resonance cascade that catalyzed the events of the first game, Half-Life 2’s introduction firmly instills the fact that they failed miserably. The hostile alien threat that was at least endemic to the interior of the laboratory’s expansive walls ostensibly became too rampant to brush under the rug. It seeped into the floorboards of the collective earthly society to the point where the flood of alien influence has washed away its democratic constitution. As one would have predicted, the extraterrestrial species of Xen have exerted their superior strength and bevy of intergalactic resources to enslave the human race and are subjugating them under a dystopian dictatorship. Surprisingly enough, the face of this fascist dominion isn’t any of the warped, grotesque visages the developers could’ve conjured up from Xen. The despicable human host of the authoritarian regime that the player definitely at least glanced at from the jumbotron screen on their arrival is Wallace Breen, the former head administrator of Black Mesa who is using his administrative acumen to enlarge the scope of his position of power as the omnipotent human ruler of Earth. Yes, not one former sovereign union: the entire fucking world. Breen is both the highest bidder and the highest buyer for his home planet, negotiating with the Combine’s imperialistic terms and landing the role as the sole human beneficiary. This massive paradigm shift that shook the Earth to its core should appropriately be documented with the same comprehensive detail of both world wars and presented to Gordon/the player in a crash course of exposition to catch them up since they’ve been absent. However, even with Half-Life’s world drastically turned on its head since we saw it last, the game chooses to illustrate the havoc that occurred strictly through subtle world-building. Exactly how the Combine expropriated Earth as one of their intergalactic assets is uncertain, but we certainly get the visual impression that their efforts in the acquisition were catastrophic. Topographically, we can discern that “City 17” couldn’t be the grounds of former New Mexico where Black Mesa once stood because of the coastal highway and leafless, skinny oak trees instead of cacti interspersed between arid canyons. The district that Gordon finds himself traversing through exudes something akin to the Eastern Bloc: the cold, ruinous urban remnants of communism’s deleterious effects done to former Soviet Union Europe. Or, it could be the recurring presence of Combine agitprop strewn around, with the most shameless and laughably deceiving image being a graffiti art of a Combine soldier gently cradling a helpless human infant in its arms. Come to think of it, it doesn’t matter what area of the world is now referred to as “City 17” because the blank, numerical title of this district implies that every corner of the earth has been reduced to a series of arbitrary numbers organized by the Combine. Any and all culture has been eradicated and the potential for human prosperity is rendered totally impotent. The first Half-Life’s mood was one of tension and fear, with the prevailing anxiety of how the situation could get worse. Half-Life 2 is the affirmation of those worries come to fruition, and the excruciating weight of the Combine’s oppression leaves the general aura in a deep depression.

Even though Half-Life 2’s atmosphere conveys the impression that all hope is lost, this doesn’t halt the efforts of the resistance to overthrow Dr. Breen and his interstellar benefactors. The experience of ascending upwards from Black Mesa’s buried test chambers was a lonely excursion, and a factor of why Gordon seemed like a lone wolf on his undertaking was that every one of the NPCs was static, copy-pasted character tropes. Besides the City 17 commoners wearing their prisoner uniforms who are scared shitless of their Combine oppressors, the ones brave enough to rebel are an eclectic cast of personable characters. Firstly, a peculiarity between all of the distinctive NPCs is that they were all apparently former Black Mesa alumni who remember the day when the resonance cascade disrupted Earth’s balance indefinitely as lucidly as Gordon. For the player, what should be relieving interactions with Gordon’s former colleagues are a slew of those awkward instances of someone pressing you to remember meeting them from a party or another instance of a brief, casual interaction and they were too unimpressionable to recall. The connection I’ve made to clear the hazy confusion of reacquaintance is that the ex-Black Mesa members of the resistance militia are fleshed-out, concrete 2.0 versions of the few common NPCs surrounding the facility's perimeter. Barney is the canonical name of the pistol-wielding security guard that I once dubbed as “Security Steve,” having a rapport with Gordon as casual and agreeable as his plucky former role would dictate. Dr. Isaac Kleiner is the white Black Mesa scientist while Eli Vance is the African-American version of the scholarly men dressed in white lab coats. However, the contrast between Eli’s laid-back, cool personality and the eccentric Kleiner displays a deeper characterization beyond what was a racial color swap for the same role. My favorite essential character in the fight against the Combine does not vaguely resemble any of the avatar NPCs of the first game, for Black Mesa’s glass ceiling was evidently too bulletproof for any woman to penetrate. Or, Eli Vance’s daughter, Alyx Vance, was far too young at the time of Black Mesa’s prime and is now a capable young lady on the same scale of mechanical expertise as her dear old dad. Alyx is intelligent, athletic, adept with firearm precision, and maintains a balance between her father’s collected demeanor with her impassioned fire to dismantle the Combine’s grip on the Earth and avenge her departed mother by proxy. For my money, she’s a textbook example of an admirable depiction of women in gaming. However, even with all of her strong and nuanced characteristics, a crop of gamers are still going to take advantage of the seamless nature of the cutscenes as an ample opportunity to stare at her ass whenever she’s assisting Gordon or making conversation. Don’t leave me hanging, fellas: if I can admit it, so can you. Regardless if the NPCs are vague old friends or fresh faces to all parties involved, they all beam with absolute delight when they cross paths with Gordon. Man, this world must truly be in dire straits if this bespectacled schlub is being given the star-studded treatment comparable to Brad Pitt on the red carpet. Then again, Gordon was the Black Mesa MVP who took it upon himself to travel to Xen and slay their leader, so perhaps the little faith his presence provides goes a long way in such destitute times. If Gordon can’t do it, no one can, so he better perform a miracle for the sake of the human race.

However, another new female NPC that isn’t giddy to get Gordon’s autograph is the prickly, stern scientist Judith Mossman, who awaits Gordon in the makeshift, grassroots Black Mesa East location alongside Eli Vance. The experimental teleportation process from Kleiner’s lab works wonders on Alyx, but Kleiner’s castrated pet headcrab, Lamarr, tinkers with the machine while Gordon is strapped in the chamber. Kleiner can detach the creature’s mind-control claw, but he can’t neuter it enough to the point where it's entirely docile. As a result of the headcrab’s mischief, Gordon must travel to the remote base of resistance operations on foot and brave the Combine opposition. Once Barney gives Gordon back his trusty crowbar to defend himself, the languid introductory pacing of the first two chapters is disrupted and the game’s action is kicked into high gear from here on out. The third chapter was also when the first Half-Life stripped off its patient, quasi-cinematic initiative and revealed its high-octane FPS bearings underneath. Half-Life 2 still retains the uneven pacing structures of each individual chapter, with some like “Black Mesa East” serving as expositional midpoints in the narrative and the “Water Hazard” chapter leading up to Gordon’s arrival to Eli Vance’s hideout feeling incredibly long-winded. However, where Half-Life 2 evolves from the repeated format of pacing that the first game established is that every chapter, no matter its length, is all killer with no filler to be found. Instances such as the ball and chain strain of “On a Rail” and the inappropriately platforming-intensive “Residue Processing” are thankfully not repeated. Half-Life 2 maintains its engaging momentum by broadening and diversifying the scope of each chapter’s setting since the series is no longer confined to the premises of Black Mesa and its vast, yet interiorly restricted corporate corridors. Playing as Gordon Freeman has never felt so badass than in “Route Kanal,” painting the streets parallel to a series of storm drains and sewage systems red with the blood of the Combine police unit in what is speedily paced like a Max Payne game. Ice-T would send Gordon flowers and a “thank you” card if he could. The two chapters where Gordon infiltrates the abandoned prison turned Combine detainment center, Nova Prospekt, also exudes the adrenalized rush of FPS combat when Gordon pumps rounds upon rounds of steaming hot lead into the Combine security guards. Storming the streets of City 17 with Gordon’s fellow comrades in the resistance is equally as epic, but it's most unfortunate that the squad of allies that “Follow Freeman” are as useless as tits on a barnacle. “Water Hazard” and “Highway 17” showcase an evolved understanding of the vehicle accompaniment gimmick that “On a Rail” presented for a buggy and motorboat respectively, and there isn’t any doubt as to whether these vehicles are transporting Gordon or if he’s transporting them.

The chapter in Half-Life 2 that best encompasses the FPS thrills in what is the game’s most disparate and insulated setting is “We Don’t Go To Ravenholm,” a setback alternate route Gordon must undergo in which its foreboding title is a preempted quote from Alyx. Excuse me, Alyx, but what’s this “we” shit? I will proactively take this pathway back up to the City 17 train tracks of my own volition, thank you very much. Similarly to the town of Silent Hill, the ominous name of this secluded former mining town has me guessing whether it was always named this or if it was dubbed thee after it became a horrific cesspit. Alternatively, it could be the zoning project name given by Dr. Breen to clear the headcrab zombie refuse out of City 17 to gentrify the downtown section of the city, or at least what constitutes gentrification in his eyes. This spooky burg where it is perpetually the hour of the wolf is congested with headcrabs and their grizzly, reanimated host bodies galore. The sole exception to Ravenholm’s homogenous population is an intact human being named Father Grigori, a bald priest who perceives his misfortune circumstances here as his divine occupation assigned by God, something he compares to a “shepherd tending to his flock.” His manic laughter and zombie blood lust connote that he’s not taking his situation in stride as it seems, but at least he’s stable enough to politely escort Gordon through Ravenholm’s vacant buildings and dim back alleys of the damned. Ravenholm might discard the clever horror subtleties that both the first Half-Life and this game normally sprinkle into the prevailing tone of despair. Still, this condemned reminder of the resonance cascade’s worst effects on human society provides the pinnacle of Half-Life 2 level design, pacing, and overall fun factor. Ravenholm is one of my favorite levels across any video game I’ve played.

Speaking of Ravenholm’s infestation of headcrab zombies, some of Xen’s invaders that Gordon subdued right out of the resonance cascade have evidently gone extinct since their arrival on Earth. Instead of providing the creatively diverse arrangement of aliens as the first game did, only a few of the extraterrestrial beasts were deemed worthy of returning. The Combine haven’t found a solution to rid the world of the pesky headcrab scourge, and Gordon will still have to watch out for yard-length tongues that drape from City 17 ceilings ready to consume him whole and spit his skull out onto the pavement. Sure, the vortigaunts are seen still walking around, but returning players may be confused when Gordon is forced to lower his weapons whenever one of these gangly aliens is in their sights. Since the events of the resonance cascade, this common enemy type has been domesticated by the humans and is now in allegiance with the resistance due to their peasant status as wageless working-class slaves. They can now articulate themselves in fluent English, albeit with their own mannerisms like referring to Gordon as “the Freeman,” and they now channel their once-deadly finger energy into restoring Gordon’s armor. I almost feel inclined to apologize to them for slaughtering hundreds of them upon exiting the portal to Earth. As charmed as I am to now call the vortigaunts my friends, their assimilation into the resistance is a disconcerting reminder that the Combine have raised the stakes of the alien threat.

While the headcrabs and barnacles seem to be the remaining hostile species from Xen, Half-Life 2’s method of diversifying the enemy variety is splitting the few recurring enemies into different shades. For example, the familiar headcrabs have two new variations: a skinnier, lighter one that scurries around like a rat and a tar-black one that shrieks loudly and whose venomous bite will deplete Gordon’s health down to a single digit. Don’t worry, his HEV suit will drain the venom and gradually restore his health to its pre-poisoned status, provided he doesn’t sustain more damage while the affliction is still flowing in his bloodstream. On top of having to contend with altering forms of headcrabs, each of them also coincides with a new zombified body to latch onto and possess. Besides the lumbering, moaning headcrab zombies that became of Black Mesa’s casualties, the quicker headcrab will transform its deceased host into a savage, feral zombie that sprints at Gordon and claws him like a wild panther. The darker headcrab engulfs its victims in numbers, providing a burly shield around them as it flings its headcrab protectors onto Gordon like a disgusting vagrant flicking its scabs. The same schematic of enemy diversification also applies in the exact same fashion with the Combine troopers. The street patrol wearing white gas masks carry pistols and are the easiest to dispatch. Once Gordon exits Ravenholm and finds himself on the shores of City 17, the Combine soldiers that await him wear sturdier, padded armor. Lastly, the ones wearing a monochromatically white suit are less durable than their greyer affiliates but will launch a ball of pure energy from their weapons that will deal severe damage to all it catches in its ricocheting path. The new outlier enemy that only comes in one form are the antlions, wildcat-sized insectoid creatures that only attack Gordon if he compounds the disturbance of the Combine fracking of their sandy domain with the rumbling of his footsteps. I’m not certain whether the little flying units armed with razors that the City 17 commoners refer to as “man hacks” constitute as enemies or if they’re auxiliary tools unleashed by Combine soldiers. If you’re not convinced and still think you’ll grow weary of shooting the same kinds of enemies despite their slight deviations, the two central enemy types also exude far more personality than any of the aliens the developers have omitted. The wails from a headcrab zombie, when they are set ablaze, are morbidly hilarious, and the Combine sniper exclaiming “shit!” when Gordon lobs a grenade from their roost is a moment I wish I could endlessly rewind.

Carrying over the weapons from the first Half-Life game is also approached by making some cuts to the roster. The obligatory FPS weapons contractually transition over, which of course includes the handgun, shotgun, machine gun, and the sparsely replenished revolver with some serious kick. While they function the same, slight consideration of the amplitude of the shotgun was all this close-ranged firearm needed to change from a tepid disappointment to my standby weapon of choice. The crossbow will skewer Combine to billboards and other fixtures, and the super effective tau cannon is now a fixture of the buggy vehicle so Gordon doesn’t have to collect Combine blood on the front bumper. As delighted as I am that every returning weapon is utilized efficiently and there is no inverted aiming control to acclimate to, I cannot express the same fondness for the rocket launcher. The destructive RPG now comes with heat-seeking missiles, but the chance that they’ll hit the intended target is still a roll of the dice. They’re the only one of Gordon’s weapons efficacious enough to blow the Combine gunships out of the sky, and at least limitless ammo caches are situated around the gunship’s spawn points. Still, the best-case scenario is that the gunships will shoot the oncoming missile down, and the worst is that it will bounce back at Gordon and kill him instantly. The bugbait is in essence the same weapon as the snark, only now it bewitches antlions already found on the field into doing Gordon’s bidding by throwing it to sic them onto Combine soldiers or heeding to Gordon’s location. God only knows the odor of the pheromone this thing emits when Gordon squeezes it. Besides the automatic Combine assault weapon of the pulse rifle, the array of new toys to play with is rather unimpressive. That is, unless you disregard Half-Life 2’s prized, tour de force of offense as a weapon because it doesn’t need ammunition to function. When Gordon finally makes his rendezvous in Black Mesa East, Alyx welcomes him by giving him the latest and greatest in futuristic technology: the Gravity Gun. Before Gordon has to skedaddle on through Ravenholm when the Combine intercepts the location of the resistance’s hideout, Gordon tests this glowing, orange claw by playing fetch with Alyx’s iron giant, canine-brained guardian simply named “Dog.” In addition to every other outstanding aspect of Ravenholm, the amount of detritus scattered about that Gordon can utilize with the Gravity Gun is a sizable fraction of this area’s spectacular quality. Saw blades, barrels, detached car doors, and every conceivable piece of furniture can be pulled into the tractor beam and pushed violently onto enemies at the same deadly velocity as a bullet, with controls so simple that a monkey could operate it (but we’re glad that one isn’t). Not only does the Gravity Gun tap into an alluring sense of curiosity because it has no precursors, recycling what are usually objects of no significance as vital ammunition is a brilliantly economic way of conserving ammo for all other tools in one’s arsenal, ensuring the player is never rendered defenseless. You know how emphatically I fawn over the Metal Blade from Mega Man 2? The Gravity Gun is the 21st-century 3D gaming equivalent of the Metal Blade with its unmitigated awesomeness and unsurpassable glory.

Of course, something like the Gravity Gun would still prove to be impractical if Valve didn’t exceed yet another boundary of gaming mechanics with an unrivaled, ultramodern physics engine. Valve’s contemporaries were far too occupied attempting to advance gaming’s visuals to match the fidelity of film or real life, while Valve was focused on progressing how video games could emulate Newton’s laws that define how the real physical world abides. The Gravity Gun’s pull and push functionality is a marvelous example of witnessing real physical phenomena in action, a general smoothness with hints of wobbly movement natural for objects being manipulated by a gravitational force. Drop a household object like a soda can or a comb onto the floor from a reasonable distance and compare the way the object reacts in the fall to how Gordon unhands things in Half-Life 2, and you’ll be astonished at how mirrored both instances will be. Half-Life 2’s physics engine also makes executing enemies uproariously entertaining, as Combine soldiers will sometimes die in such animated fashions that it borders on slapstick comedy. Under the surface-level appeal of ragdoll deaths and other instances of sheer amusement, Valve cleverly utilizes their killer app with some genuinely engaging physics puzzles. One may not think that stacking cinder blocks on a plank of wood to balance it on one side so Gordon can jump onto a steep platform or collecting washing machines to meet the weight requirement for a gate would be as stimulating as mowing down Combine, but us gamers were mesmerized at these puzzles when this game was released. Furthermore, Half-Life 2 also manages to blow every other game out of the water in graphical detail anyway. All the City 17 grime is still prettier than any other game released in the same year.

For as unorthodox a weapon as the Gravity Gun is, it eventually becomes the exclusive means of offense once Gordon finds an underground passage into Dr. Breen’s citadel, a thousand-story spire situated in the center of City 17 so soaring that it impales the atmospheric barrier between Earth and space. The automated security checkpoint at the citadel’s forcefield gate disintegrates everything in Gordon’s arsenal, but the antimatter reaction somehow fuses with the intact Gravity Gun and upgrades the might of the device where it can dislodge monitors bolted to the walls and roll through Combine soldiers like bowling pins. This all-powerful apparatus makes the player feel impenetrable, and it’s exactly what Gordon needs to intimidate Dr. Breen in his quarters. But first, Gordon must rescue Eli Vance from his constrictive contraption and confront Judith Mossman for her treacherous double-agent activity working for Dr. Breen. I guess girls do go crazy for a sharp-dressed man, or maybe they’re likely to submit to the will of the man who holds one hundred percent of the executive power in the world. Instead of deploying more Combine guards to rid Gordon from his office, Dr. Breen treats this scene as a Black Mesa family reunion and expresses that he’d like to establish a working relationship with Gordon and the others akin to their positions in their former place of employment. Obviously, Gordon doesn’t cede to this megalomaniac’s bullshit, and Dr. Breen attempts to escape the citadel when Gordon denies his offer. Breen’s final act is attempting to escape the citadel by entering the portal that leads to the Combine’s homeworld, where he will stay with no way to contact him. By using the boosted power of the Gravity Gun, Half-Life 2’s climactic point is a series of tossing energy balls that flow from the radiating silos near the citadel's peak, with a couple of gunships to distract Gordon from his goal of thwarting Breen’s permanent departure. Some may complain that this hardly counts as a final boss because there is no herculean foe to conquer, but they should remind themselves how excruciatingly resilient the Nihilanth was and be thankful that this final challenge is over quickly if the player is timely enough. After all, having the celebratory feeling of victory halted by a deathly explosion affecting our two heroes, which is then frozen by the G-Man, is certainly fitting as a climax in a Half-Life game, wouldn’t you say?

I don’t even know where to begin listing Half-Life 2’s phenomenal accomplishments. I inadvertently started to claim that they were underserved at the start of this review as if the first Half-Life was the entry that truly deserved the acclaim. I may have wrongfully implied that its successor takes the credit because it translates all of its innovations into a game with sharper visuals and more quality-of-life enhancements. While this is still true, one can plainly see that Half-Life 2 had a plethora of its own radical ideas that it wanted to execute, and these innovations are as numerous as the first games. Never before has any video game mechanically felt this vibrant and immersive in the sense of branching virtual kineticism to real-life physics. For as dismal and dirty as the world depicted in Half-Life 2 is, I've rarely experienced a game that felt so lively with buoyant characters, shooting gameplay, and world immersion. If the Half-Life games were two of Thomas Edison’s inventions, the first game would be the phonograph, and this one would be the lightbulb. Both are revolutionary in their own right, but we still use the same method of illuminating a room as Edison's original model to this day. Half-Life 2 isn’t just a next-generation leap for Gordon Freeman’s story: it’s a benchmark that arguably ushered in the modern era of gaming.

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