Splitkick: Dark Souls is bitingly cold. The player is thrust into the midst of this desolate landscape without explanation, hopeless and lacking direction. If you were smart, this is where you would stop. Eject the disk. Maybe put it on eBay or just store it on your shelf as a memento. Unlike Sisyphus, the choice has been given. Don’t fool yourself; you don’t have to begin this.
But if you’re anything like me, it can’t be helped. It’s a compulsion – a sickness.