The Drifter Died seconds ago, still running

The opening is brutal and quick: Mick jumps a box-car to his old home town, witnesses a violent murder, gets chased by hi-tech soldiers and drowned in a reservoir. Then his consciousness is thrown back into his own body, seconds before the death. That rewind is the game's spine. Dying is not a game over screen, it is part of the story, and the mechanic doubles as a clean reset when a puzzle kills you. Framed for the murder he witnessed, Mick is pulled into a web of shadowy corporations and the thousand-year obsession of a madman, and the story rarely gives him, or you, a moment to breathe.

This is a point-and-click built for pace. One minute you are crafting a Molotov cocktail from a bottle of over-proof rum, the next you are interrogating a crooked neurosurgeon or swinging from a high-rise window on a fraying extension lead. The chapters end on small cliffhangers that make the next one hard to resist. Mick is a practical man, so the puzzles are down-to-earth: no wandering lost, no moon logic, just situations to work through at a good clip. The tone draws on King, Crichton and Carpenter with a dash of 70s Aussie grindhouse, and it shows in the grimy, urgent feel of every scene.

If you like doing the detective work yourself, the game gives you plenty to chew on. You examine scenes, talk to people, and piece together what the conspiracy actually is from what you find. Item descriptions and dialogue options are spelled out in text, which helps you follow the thread of events and spot where a thing might be useful. Some puzzles want you to reason in the moment from Mick's narration and what is lying around, which gives the investigation a lived-in, on-the-spot feel. The story stays a step ahead with reveals and twists, so deduction and suspense take turns.