When I reached the end of Lone Survivor, my playtime very clearly read 4:26. Four hours and 26 minutes. For a moment, I thought I'd taken on the defining characteristic of my delirious mask-wearing avatar; I thought I'd gone mad. But then I realized there were two reasons for my gut-wrenching, tear-jerking adventure's relative brevity: 1) I had come so very, very far -- always with Death's door seemingly inches away -- both in terms of survival skills and character development, and 2) I'd fumbled around in the frustrating darkness that is trial-and-error for an extra two hours or so. Both of those facts form Lone Survivor's gnarled but never-stopping heart -- sometimes messy, occasionally offbeat, but more often than not, amazing.