TGM is perfect. It executes a singular vision, one which wraps elegant systems back into a brutal and exacting mission. TGM has what SEGA Tetris (1999) wants, what Tetris Effect (2018) wants: a divine quest through the power of blocks, a psychological lance driven into player's deepest needs, concerns, fears. TGM asserts correctly and triumphantly that the plane of human skill forms -- not place markers stamped on an imaginary passport with graphical flourishes -- the most vulnerable and expressive place to stage a journey. In such a way, Arika achieved the most narratively charged version of Tetris i've experienced. TGM talks to you like a child and lays out a path for you to grow up with it. It is hard as it is forgiving; it is as cruel as it is kind. To a game-liker raised on the bland friendliness of the TTC Guideline rules, TGM stands a living lighthouse calling me to test, taint, better, bury, loathe, and love and myself. Until further notice and more life lived, TGM is Tetris perfected, for once and for all time.