In Below, death comes often, without anticipation, and completely devoid of fanfare. One moment we were walking down a set of stairs deeper into an ancient and enigmatic dungeon, and the next we were bleeding to death thanks to an arrow that seemed to manifest from the darkness itself. We tried to stop the bleeding, fiddling through our inventory in hopes that something – anything – would slow our demise. But it wasn’t meant to be. Our lonesome Wanderer – the sixth of the past few minutes – had succumbed to her wounds. The only thing left to do now was start back at our bonfire and assume the role of another weary traveler who would inevitably become the seventh one to meet a similar fate.
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