Far Cry 2 is an aura. Its gargantuan 50kmwide open world, encompassing verdant savannah and humid jungle, presents itself as intoxicating haze; a death trap; a hostile land unto itself in which your silent mercenary protagonist roams, descending into madness, killing, and death. The game’s premise is signposted: enter the indefinite East African landmass and survive its brutal civil war long enough to complete your sole objective, eliminating a prominent weapons dealer and conflict perpetuator, the Jackal.

But in what is fair to perceive as the stubbornness of the game’s developers, you, the player, is made to suffer. In fact, player struggle is front and center of the Far Cry 2 experience. Early on, you’re stricken with malaria; scavenged weapons routinely malfunction midgunfight; the long and winding roads from point A to point B are littered with dangerous militia. Everything is made to be hard work.

Everyone wants to kill you.