Everywhere you look, there are things foreshadowing what awaits this atheistic utopia - propaganda videos, missing children posters, random passerbys exchanging concerns about the side effects of Plasmids. The troop of Little Sisters you eventually pass by? They're clean, bright-eyed but still firmly entrenched in the uncanny valley. Our friendly garcon is no Nightcrawler, he's very much the Houdini Splicer not yet gone mad. The whole sequence takes less than a few minutes to complete but it feels emblematic of this still-vibrant Rapture: genteel, progressive and quietly, irrevocably disconcerting. And yours, sir? On and on, he goes, before he reinstates himself at the bar, a vision of obsequious elegance. Before I can fully register what has happened, the waiter has reassembled in front of another indifferent couple, ready to take their order. Like Dewitt and Elizabeth, I don't spare him a second thought. He flutes some kind of salutation, an offer to provide refreshments. A waiter, dapper and long-limbed, greets us. Booker Dewitt, who we pilot yet again, and a steely-eyed Elizabeth have just sauntered into the bar. It's near the onset of the new BioShock Infinite DLC, long before grimmer elements take hold of the adventure. There's a moment in Burial at Sea that I can't get out of my head. Warning: This review is being kept as spoiler-free as humanly possible. Some content, such as this article, has been migrated to VG247 for posterity after USgamer's closure - but it has not been edited or further vetted by the VG247 team. This article first appeared on USgamer, a partner publication of VG247.
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