Warface is Crytek’s free-to-play stab at Call of Duty’s deathmatch formula, which it spreads across multiple modes, bundles with a thin handful of new ideas, and shackles to an ever-present storefront. Warface is the game you play if you fancy running in a circle shooting people in the back but don’t want to pay full price for the privilege—which is a reasonable notion—and also the game that you play if you are ten years old and your parents won’t buy you something better. I know that because the voices I’ve heard in-game have, universally, been children; on one occasion I was lucky enough to listen to someone get told off for not doing their homework. That brief moment of kitchen sink drama was the most fun I’ve had with Warface, a game that is otherwise as oppressively alright-I-suppose as you’d expect from the lovechild of two business models.