Silent Storm Gold Edition

WHY IS THIS GAME NOT THE STANDARD? 1 hour in and already amazed at the mechanics.

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Самая страшная механика в игре - это когда противник стоит за углом с автоматом, и ничем себя не выдаёт. Ты доходишь до угла он перехватывает твой ход, всаживает в тебяочередь и всё. Твой парень гарантированно труп. Углы несут сто процентную смерть. А игра состоит из углов. Бред. Спасибо, чтоможно сохраняться перед каждым ходом. Это единственный способ, который янашёлдля борьбы с углами. Потрясающе. Даже проходить не хочется.

If Jagged Alliance took place during WW2. The environment destruction is something you don't see in games like this, which is a nice touch. I wish they would make a new one.

Классика нулевых, одна из лучших, F-легенда!!!

**A Review of *Silent Storm*** *By Arthur Schopenhauer* It bears the lineage of *Jagged Alliance*, and this is its salvation. One beholds the granularity—action points, postures, interrupt fire—and recognizes, with something like gratitude, that tactical depth has not yet perished from this earth. Every bullet is accounted for. Every step consumes its due. The game does not flatter you with ease; it regards you as competent until you prove otherwise, and you will prove otherwise, repeatedly, and each failure will be instructive. And the walls. Ah, the walls. A grenade, properly placed, does not merely injure—it *excises*. Floors surrender. Staircases, those perennial bottlenecks, are rendered optional by sufficient application of high explosive. One does not navigate the enemy fortress; one *reconfigures* it. This is not destruction for spectacle; it is destruction as strategy, as architecture, as prayer. The plaster dust settles, and where there was obstacle, there is now aperture. I have known few digital pleasures more sincere. The Panzerkleins arrive, inevitable as death, and the granularity acquires new weight. Your rifleman, so diligent, now faces armour that mocks ballistics. Your demolitions expert, previously a liability, becomes prophet. The mission transforms; you adapt or you perish. It is not grace. It is *pressure*, and pressure, properly endured, yields character. The AI, it is true, deliberates with monastic leisure. The voice acting offends historical sensibilities. The engine, venerable and demanding, taxes modern machines with the entitlement of pensioned nobility. These are not virtues. They are *conditions*. Yet the tactical skeleton remains sound. The destruction remains liberating. The campaign, for all its eccentricities, coheres. One hundred hours evaporate, and the regret is remarkably dilute. Thus *Silent Storm* is not the masterpiece it might have been. It is, however, a masterpiece of what it is: granular, destructive, patient, punishing. It asks much and returns interest. I recommend it, not despite its flaws, but through them. The walls fall. The mission continues. The Will, as ever, endures.

Ahead of its time game mechanics paired with torturous level design.