Spoilers!

~ Estimated Reading Time: 3 min ~

AC's got that mechanical clunk that makes the eventual smoothness feel so earnt. An hour into this and I'm taking flight, ten hours in I'm making raw metal soar. This is what the process of piloting a big, hulking mess of ambitious machinery deserves to feel like. There's a well balanced contrast between its moments of failings - unable to instinctually move left or right, or look up and down - and how the game manages to take the weight off your back with systems like auto-aim. For everything that helps ease you in, each of those droplets of awkwardness lend the narrative its rough-around-the-edges flavour. Every level ending unceremoniously with my ammo bill makes me feel like I haven't done anything quite the right way, no matter how much better I'm getting. And that feels fitting - I'm a sketchy hire for some dingy corporations, doing dirty work dirtily. When the majority of the levels corrode into being constrained mazes, ones that barely even take advantage of the uniqueness of having a flying mech at your disposal, it feels like realizing a job was less nice than the offer made it sound. "I dunno why I'm even here" ass game. This even having multiple routes is hysterical to me; Raven is being passed back and forth between factions that have it out for each other like fantasy football trades.

Lots of neat structural stuff here; the Ranking system alone functions at so many layers. Both doubling as a score attack mechanic to encourage you to play good, and letting you see lots of developer-designated mech layouts, giving you an idea on how to build good. The small windows into the larger world here being conveyed through nothing but mission statements, e-mails, and other faction's war machines. And then all these elements entwine to do something special. Getting that request from an unknown sender to blow up everything you can in a city-street, only for a ranked Mech to roll up and shred you with bullets might be the most memorable moment in the game for me. In general - there's this tone of playfulness to the game - like the developers are always looking to one-up their own formula, subverting your expectations. The level that's a giant, labyrinthian maze of tunnels, but the goal of the level is like five feet below the central hub made me lose it - they were definitely laughing making that one.
And...honestly? I think the platforming section in the final mission is interesting (i am going to avoid saying "good" because i'm trying to not be a contrarian here). You can pick off all the enemies one by one to make the process as safe as possible, but if enemies shoot from below you while you're flying, they give you a short burst of momentum. All damage you take is permanent, so have this push and pull of trying to avoid taking excess damage, and making the climb easier on yourself in exchange for damage. Obviously placing something like this at the end of the game without tutorializing any of it is obtuse, but I respect the anti-climax of ending it on a level called something as inconspicuous as "Destroy Floating Mines"... and then you don't even do that. It lies to you, makes you do something you've never done before, and then it ends. Weird game, silly game; the best I can say about it is that it made me want to play more of...this. In an abstract sense - not necessarily more of the series or company, even - I just want things that play with structure in novel ways I haven't quite seen before. Recently I've been feeling like seeing new experiences I can learn from is my primary motivator for any of this 'playing video games' shit, so I'm glad to say that Armored Core did nothing but fuel my drive louder.