Review was originally negative due to awful state of game at release, has been updated to positive to reflect current state. Good game.

Original review:

I remember the look in his eyes. Those raving, inhuman eyes. And that laugh, that felt like disease writhing under my skin.

And those words.

"The... punchline, Bats. Oh, wait till it hits you..."

Until now, I'd hoped it was a ruse, the desperate dying words of a madman grasping to retain any kind of hold. I'd hoped the words had been hollow, that the joke was over.

How could I have let myself hope?

The rain is falling, it looks the way I dreamed rain would look. Falling gracefully, dancing playfully as it glances off my cape. And as it pours, so do the shafts of light, breaking through from the heavens and cascading with promise of illumination, but what's the use if it doesn't help you see?

The rain, the light, all it does is muddy the sky, impair my vision.

There's no clarity here, just a dying city and the echoes of a madman's laughter.

"You won't be able to see it coming, Bats."

He was right. I can't see. Everything is doused in a blur that smothers all detail. I wonder if I've occidentally ingested some of the Scarcrow's toxin. I run a blood analysis and it comes back clean.

But this isn't clean. This isn't clear. This city is fractured, everything moves in slow motion, and that laugh wraps itself around my bones.

"You shouldn't have hoped, Bats. You should know better than that."

I knew, damn his eyes I knew.

He always did have the last laugh.

Review was originally negative due to awful state of game at release, has been updated to positive to reflect current state. Good game. Original review: I remember the look in his eyes. Those raving, inhuman eyes. And that laugh, that felt like disease writhing under my skin. And those words. "The... punchline, Bats. Oh, wait till it hits you..." Until now, I'd hoped it was a ruse, the desperate dying words of a madman grasping to retain any kind of hold. I'd hoped the words had been hollow, that the joke was over. How could I have let myself hope? The rain is falling, it looks the way I dreamed rain would look. Falling gracefully, dancing playfully as it glances off my cape. And as it pours, so do the shafts of light, breaking through from the heavens and cascading with promise of illumination, but what's the use if it doesn't help you see? The rain, the light, all it does is muddy the sky, impair my vision. There's no clarity here, just a dying city and the echoes of a madman's laughter. "You won't be able to see it coming, Bats." He was right. I can't see. Everything is doused in a blur that smothers all detail. I wonder if I've occidentally ingested some of the Scarcrow's toxin. I run a blood analysis and it comes back clean. But this isn't clean. This isn't clear. This city is fractured, everything moves in slow motion, and that laugh wraps itself around my bones. "You shouldn't have hoped, Bats. You should know better than that." I knew, damn his eyes I knew. He always did have the last laugh.