I'll always remember when Conway leaves with the boys from the distillery. My initial reaction surprised me: I had an indignant feeling that "my Conway wouldn't do that." And then, duh. He's not my Conway. That's the point, beyond the fact that this is a story that someone else has written; the systems that drive our lives take people, take choices, take ourselves away from us if we let them. I am not stronger than those forces, the game was telling me. It was stunning. It hurt.

But it wasn't depressing, because there were people left to carry on, and they got to go make a surreal little communist art colony in magical Appalachia, with cats and queer robots, and that's a pretty good ending.