It's as simple as this: The Last Guardian is the most invested and attached I've ever been in regards to the plight of a video game protagonist and his overall goal. This slow-burning story of love and companionship, helmed with a typically deft and understated hand by its auteur director, registered on a deeply meaningful level for me, due in no small part to the game's centrepiece Trico. A creature of almost intoxicating cuteness and charm, Trico feels like a real comrade thanks to a combination of fluid and expressive animation and A.I.. An ironclad bond is established early on precisely because Trico is such a believable presence, and because of this, everything else falls into place. It's a beautiful, frequently picturesque visual package to bask in, showing few signs of its beginnings on PS3 hardware. The soundtrack by Takeshi Furukawa, while not being as showy as the music that accompanied the magnificent battles in Shadow of the Colossus, is sparingly used but memorably nostalgic, and knows exactly when to tug at the heartstrings. The puzzles, unlike Inside, are naturally integrated into the game without disrupting the consistency of the world and the storytelling. And the set-pieces, while not as elaborate as something one would expect from the likes of Uncharted, are no less breath-taking because of the emotional dynamic between the central duo. Running across a crumbling bridge is nothing new in a video game, but when the ground gives out beneath the boy, and Trico appears into frame at the last second to save him from falling to his death, it's a genuinely cathartic, air-punching moment.

It's already a common sentiment among those who have completed The Last Guardian that it's an unforgettable journey. As the words ”The End" appeared on the screen, it was only too easy for me to see why. It's a game that has lingered on in my mind ever since I completed it. I get that occasional lump in the throat during recollections of my playthrough that serve as a comforting reminder that, despite all the uncertainty and the years of waiting for something that may never come to fruition, what materialised in the aftermath of all that drama was a work of art that I'm glad I never gave up hope on being released.