Now I wasn’t expecting that. I’m not talking about the city-levelling gunfight I’ve just had with a battalion of rogue American soldiers – 90-minutes with Spec Ops: The Line and stamina sapping shootouts are pretty much par for the course.
Neither am I talking about the street that’s now choked with the wailing soon-to-be-corpses of my enemies, their life seeping into the surrounding sand, staining it a morbid shade of crimson. What really surprised me was how I felt. Because I felt like a total a-hole. A soulless, murdering bastard.