


Playing online, Apex’s roots show through like a bad dye job. I reluctantly ditch the campaign – having made sure I completed the superlative time-travelling level Effect And Cause first, of course– and fire up multiplayer. The horror of that realisation brings me to another: all these Cirque Du Soleil tricks are never going to help my battle royale prowess. Oh god, I’m Shadow The Hedgehog, aren't I? Getting hooked It’s like being Sonic, if he was armed to the teeth and obsessed with The Matrix. But it can’t hope to match Titanfall’s momentum, which has me chaining wall runs and lining up headshots as the enemy tries to get a bead on me. You can see traces of these acrobatics, diluted as they are, in Apex’s fluidity of movement: scrabbling up sheer surfaces, sliding on your knees like a kid at a holiday resort disco. There’s a reason the game’s tutorial is an obstacle course, emphasising speed, agility and the ability to aim a submachine gun while jogging along a wall – the campaign that follows is equal parts Halo and Mario. In fact, this is quietly Titanfall’s best bit: a chance to play with its parkour-inspired movement system. Naturally, having built this bond and handed over some cool toys, the campaign then constantly finds ways to separate me and my robotic BFF. Oh god, I’m Shadow The Hedgehog, aren't I?" "It’s like being Sonic, if he was armed to the teeth and obsessed with The Matrix. Which is the form I spend basically the rest of the game in because, well, wouldn’t you? As I progress, the game gradually unlocks new Titan loadouts, allowing me to switch from railgun sniper with VTOL capabilities to flamethrower-equipped pyromaniac to teleporting mech-ninja, complete with enormous sword.
