There is a moment, about thirty minutes into any great bald game , when the weight lifts. You’ve lost the hair, the gear, the status markers, the mini-map cluttered with icons. You are a vulnerable, shiny-domed figure standing at the edge of a cliff overlooking an infinite horizon. The controller vibrates once—not with an explosion, but with the soft hum of possibility. This, dear reader, is the back to freedom sensation. And it is the single most important trend you haven’t heard of yet.
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