Do I regret purchasing Remnant and experiencing what it had to offer? Not at all! The polished gunplay, fascinating Mods, and engrossing boss fights make Remnant an absolute blast, especially when fighting side by side with friends. But Remnant‘s lack of polish and disappointing design choices kill the much wanted longevity Gunfire Games‘ attempts to establish when creating its endgame. The sheer repetitiveness for the casual player and the repeated frustrations to the yearning completionist may keep only the truly devoted around for the hours it takes to see all of what Remnant‘s worlds have to offer.

Aside from a delicious nugget of 1980s teen drama, 198X offers absolutely nothing else after the credits roll. No gallery (which I know wasn’t a stretch goal that got enough money), no extras, nothing. Once you devote the hour of time to finish the game, there are zero reasons to come back to it, unless you want to play the mini-games again, which do not change at all when you return to them. With all the time and resources allocated to bring on a project that does such a great job in associating a coming-of-age tale with the 16-bit nostalgia that has slowly taken the industry by storm: it’s baffling and very concerning to see that all that could be mustered up is a hour long prologue billed on par and in some cases higher than some full-fledged indie titles currently on the market.

I had willed myself to believe the previous explanation, that Jack was a broken man, a man who had tried since he was a kid to remove a piece of his puzzle that would only do harm to himself and those around him. That Grace and Anna would instead be pieces of his puzzle that were never meant to fit, but could be jammed in hard enough that the bent and broken tiles eventually filled the empty spots in his life. But when you see the entire puzzle of Kill or Love together, it looks just as jumbled, nonsensical, and disappointing as Jack turns out to be.

I would be lying if I said I wasn’t having a good time. The jokes come fast and furious, with its characters very self-aware how ludicrous The Cal Zone and its inhabitant’s routines are. The last two chapters have the writers flick the cap off the water bottle holding all semblance of a formulated, cohesive story and sumo clap the water out with Herculean strength, letting the creative fists fly, with the twists and turns putting Spanish soap operas to shame. I had to pick myself off my desk from laughing at how absolutely absurd it had become.

A visually stunning blend of Training Day meets Blade Runner that became too big for its narrative’s dreams and aspirations. Like Nivalis itself, the city at first glance shows a bustling atmosphere that dazzles and awes, and with its massive scale it pulls you in and envelopes you with its rich lore and bustling attentiveness to detail. But like most residents will tell you, when the sheen of Nivalis will start to wear off you’ll soon see a city that’s not as well made as it may seem. With a city that requires such a fast pace an unhurried demeanor can leave one left behind, and the choices that are made will ultimately lead you to the end of the night, regardless of if you’re a lighter or darker shade of gray. There’s good and bad in this city, but what matters is that you hop in your HOVA-Vehicle and at least try a night on the town.

Just don’t ask what’s in the package. It’s better that way.

Soon you reach the end of their journey: one filled with love, tears, jealousy, and many, many more emotions. Despite the world once seeming so one-dimensional, Y&M&H tosses and turns it in ways I haven’t seen in recent years. Never has a title made me question the morality in which players treat the characters whom set the stage since Spec Ops: The Line. Y&M&H pleads with you to stand firm with your choices, to understand the promises that were made throughout your playthrough, and to hold true the emotions felt.