I never, really, got into multiplayer games. Sure I might have dabbled a tiny bit in some titles but I've never, say, “prestiged” in COD. I've never even gotten close if truth be told. I don't dislike multiplayer experiences, I'm quite fond of the memories I have of them. I think it has more to do with the fact that I'm not entirely drawn to the competitive aspect. I've shared this opinion with a few of my friends and I don't seem to be the only one who thinks this way.

So much of our lives is spent in some form of competition. Some, for instance sports, are inherently so; others such as academics are self-imposed. I get the appeal of honing one's skill at a certain game to perfection, I get the thrill of hunting the leaderboards for that No. 1 spot. But on a personal level, that might be the last thing I want to get out of my video game time. I vastly prefer single player experiences, or failing that: cooperative experiences. I want to get a sense of relaxation, the ability to get lost in a narrative and getting swept away with the scenery and accompanying music.

The reason why I was naturally attracted to Bioshock Infinite was because it ticked all of the above criteria. As the sequel to one of the most acclaimed games of the previous generation it had a lot to live up to. But given the pre-launch trailers and interviews had seemingly 'infinite' potential. What Bioshock infinite eventually was, was a divisive game. To some it was game of the year material, to others it couldn't live up to the reputation its predecessor had set. While parts of the community found ways to pick at the game, and argued that it was "most of what's wrong with modern triple A gaming”. I however found myself to be a part of something else entirely.

At the time I spent my weeks conducting my internship at Murata Electronics. My 40-hour workweek was extended with an accumulated 17-hour commute, ensuring that I spent no time whatsoever near my PS3. That March, two entire weekends were spent figuring out every single nook and cranny there was in the sky city of Columbine. I was enamoured by the narrative and every single memory I have of the game is a fond one. The intervening week was spent far away from gaming websites and the possibly of spoiling the rich story. For something to be able to change my day to day habits; this game had a fierce hold over me. By the time the credits had rolled I was already loading my last save in order to experience the closing chapter once again. After getting a grip on the entirety of the narrative my wife shortly humoured me by listening to my rambling about which I called my “game of the generation”. After her patience ran out, something wonderful happened. I immediately visited the same websites that I spent the previous days avoiding. I browsed two forums in unison and left remarks here and posts there, when all of the sudden threads were being linked and discussed among them. Theories were shared and built upon for days upon days. The discourse was fuelled by gamers who followed in my footsteps: they too immediately looked to the Internet for answers to their questions and theories, and found them in droves. To be able to spend those days on Neogaf and Giantbomb were simply amazing. It harkened to the time of Dutch gaming website Gamesen, where a tight-knit group of people were united in their common interests. Bioshock infinite forced its player base to connect and search each other out. It wasn't a traditional simultaneous multiplayer experience, but figuring out the narrative of Bishock Infinite and its convoluted threads, was a collaborative effort in the truest sense of the word.

Because of this, a single player game with no multiplayer aspirations (or perhaps it did) became my definitive multiplayer experience. The one to which every other will be compared to. I surely hope to experience another title like it, preferably sooner than later.