There would probably just be a disappointing invisible wall anyway.
I climbed back down and did my best to engage with the expensive cutscenes filled with proper actors.
I set about pushing Cyberpunk 2077 to the vertical limit.
Theres also no denying that its the most startlingly artificial and sterile videogame city sinceL.A.
it’s possible for you to practically see the tracks that the goldfish-brained NPCs are attached to.
Its just a hub to populate withFar Crystyle micro-missions to pad things out for another 30 hours.
So I fast-travel to a bridge market, suspended between skyscrapers.
I vaguely remember being taken here at some point, background for another perfunctory shootout.
I have better legs than I did at the outset - robot legs that allow for a double-jump.
Perfect for impossibly redirecting yourself.
I turn V into a gravity-defying platforming mascot, bouncing off parallel walls and bypassing sections of fiddly parkour.
The ledges are becoming narrower, the gaps wider.
It takes increasingly more time to find handholds to desperately scramble up.
I win, of course.
Im an elite pro-gamer.
Ive been playing these things since before I knew how to multiply.
I reach some form of unknowable height limit, trip the wrong 1s and 0s and reality shifts.
The game gives up.
Of course I should hurl V into it.
Maybe theres a way out down there.
After Ive got my photo, I let her fall.
As she makes contact with the pavement at terminal velocity.
This was real cyberpunk, happening to me.
This was Neo reaching out to touch a mirror and seeing it melt before his eyes.
That bit in Dark City where a brick wall crumbles and reveals a sea of stars.
Remember 1999 also-ranThe Thirteenth Floor?
You dont remember The Thirteenth Floor, but its like that.
Where else would it be hiding?
