Fink could make money by selling weapons to the public. Suchong (I hope I spelled this right) of BioShock I-fame. Fink (of Albert Fink’s Magical Melodies, who get’s his musical ideas from tears) about a certain biologist, where he’s getting the ideas for the vigors from – which make him good money. Albert Fink of Albert Fink’s Magical Melodies, that is. We also pass another great scenery: the half-broken store of Mr. Elisabeth asks along the way how they are ever going to fix this mess – my best shot: they wont. We make our way past this crumbling glory towards Comstock House. Elisabeth even remarks that the Vox seem to have agreed on their favourite colour. Comstock’s likeness is eradicated with broad strokes of red paint and red flags rags hang all over the place. The Emporia is pillaged, burning and it’s clear which side has the upper hand in this conflict. On various occasions you can just wait in cover until the majority of conflict is over and mop up the survivors. The whole are is dominated by the conflict of the advancing Vox Populi and Comstock’s men. I’ve missed some exposition (in fact, I missed the whole building), so I’ve no idea why it is special. The other path, the one through Harmony Lane, leads us towards the Photo Studio. I don’t see any reason why one would conduct dangerous experiments that threaten the borders of time and space themself in the middle of the local shopping mile, but then the DESY-particle acellerator is build below Hamburg. The way over the Market brings us close to the old Lutece Labs, now closed down by order of the Columbia Science Authority. The Bank of the Prophet can be entered, but doesn’t hold anything interesting – yet. And… a third? My tingling plot-sense tells me that all of those doors will be relevant – why else should we be able to open them without additional picks? Our target is Comstock House, so we can either work our way over Harmony Lane, where we will be greeted by some snipers, or over the Market. The elevator-ride mentioned in the last part brought us to the Grand Central Depot, where we had to do some of the usual shooting.Īfter finishing the shooty times, we stand in front of a hairpin lock. In which we visit Columbia’s world-famous shopping-labyrinth, run into a rather cheerful fingerprint-scanner and see the dead rising.
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