“Look ma, no face,” growls Marcus Fenix as I land a headshot on an Elite Sniper from across the map. The foley, wet with viscera and meat, drips and gloops in my ears. A nearby Locust roars its outrage, a chainsaw revs up to my left, and there’s a big meaty slap of muscle on flesh as a Drone ambushes my right flank and tackles me to the floor. Gears of War is back, alright, and it’s like it never left.
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