Having made a quarter of a million souls disappear, Ghostwire: Tokyo’s villain Hannya sets in motion the next part of his masterplan, which appears to involve uniting our world with the spirit realm. Given how effectively Tango Gameworks establishes a physical connection between the two, we wonder if the studio is in on it. Desperate to reach his hospitalised sister, protagonist Akito can only watch helplessly as a procession of yokai parades through Scramble Crossing, littered with the clothes of the unfortunates who were at the world’s busiest intersection when the fog swept in. Little wonder, then, that the only living boy in Shibuya seems to take things so personally, viciously attacking Visitors (manifestations of human rage). As he slams a paper talisman into the back of a spectral salaryman – his other hand bending their spine until their face, contorted with fear, is inches from his own – you’re reminded of combat director Shinichiro Hara’s work on Id’s 2016 Doom reboot. Rip and tear, indeed.

Ghostwire: Tokyo’s unconventional combat isn’t quite that good, but it has a wonderful rhythm of anticipation and release: encounters typically begin with a hiss of jittery static through your controller, nearby streetlights flicking on and glowing bright red as Akito’s presence is felt. Possessed by wandering spirit KK (part of a small team of paranormal investigators), Akito can harness elemental powers to fight them, using techniques referred to as ‘ethereal weaving’. Though for the most part you’re loosing off elemental spells (rapid-fire gusts of wind, watery orbs with powerful short-range impact, and a limited number of explosive fireballs), the spectral threads suggested by that term come into play when you expose a Visitor’s heart with the sound of shattering glass. Now, with a squeeze of the left trigger you can wrench it free, the effort reverberating through the DualSense as Akito’s hands cross over, visibly straining as they tug at a cat’s cradle of glowing strings until that crystalline core finally pops.