Metro: Last Light preview - Telegraph That ceiling roars, a thunderclap rattling through the electric clouds. Rain begins to pour down, delicate droplets splattering over Artyom's gas mask. Pavel, for his part, is delighted. "First rain since the war, I think!" he yells over the roll of thunder. Artyom is the strong, silent type, but Pavel is a chatty companion, offering commentary and encouragement. Building the world one snippet at a time. Pleased as Pavel is with the sudden downpour, the ferocity of it starts to cause trouble for our friends. A whipcrack of lightning topples a tree, and Artyom and Pavel head for shelter. Hidden from the storm, the companions stumble across a body, who seems to have a working gas mask filter attached to his fast decomposing head. Not long dead, but long enough that filthy mutated insects have begun setting up home, they spill from the corpse, jumping at Artyom and sticking to his visor. He squishes the bugs, smearing their guts across the glass of his mask. Mask management was an integral part of 2033, but this is a new mechanic for Last Light. Keeping the mask clean, as well as keeping it filled with air, will prove an important task. The simple act of wiping the mask clear is handed over to the player, rather than done automatically, meaning that in the midst of a firefight, will you take the brief moment to clean your mask of the blood you've just spilled? Or continue firing? It's a small detail, but adding it to the micro-management that aids your survival in Metro is a neat touch. Mask clean and filter scavenged from the unfortunate bug-warmer, Artyom and Pavel descend further into the murk of the building. Artyom turns on his torch, pumping away at his personal electricity charger to keep the light on. Away from the rain and thunder, it's deathly quiet in here. The sound design is excellent, with the smallest noise amplified in the silence. Artyom finds a shotgun, along with the possible cause of death to the guy near the entrance, a slathering mutant that pounces from the darkness and slams Artyom to the floor. Wrestling his shotgun under the beast's chin, Artyom pulls the trigger, splattering mutant brains and thick red blood across his visor. It's scripted to a tee, of course, but creates an atmosphere of such dread and nerve-shredding panic, you're willing to forgive a little bit of authorial direction. It's also the first real slice of violence we've seen, and the expected avalanche of beasts to slay doesn't appear. Instead, the shotgun blast was an exclamation point to the brief struggle, silence draping over the dank corridors again. Artyom and Pavel pass through their shelter and into the rain-spattered outdoors again. A plane, crumpled in the rubble, lies ahead of them, potentially ripe for the scavenging. So the pair bust into the plane's cabin, rows of seats occupied by grinning skeletons, cobwebs lying thick over the crew's catering area. Artyom makes his way to the cockpit, and the plane dips forward into a flashback. Artyom stands, helpless, as he relives the plane's last moments, the pilot panicking as the windows shatter and the aircraft is swallowed by the mushroom cloud over Moscow. Snapping back to reality, Artyom slips off his mask briefly to vomit, before replacing it. Pavel is not so lucky, sat on the floor, clawing at his throat as his mask lies limply beside him. Artyom, now collected, goes to Pavel and puts his mask back on. The Dark Ones of Moscow have the ability to send humans into hallucinations, reliving moments of horror as the world ends. Artyom, coming into contact with the Dark Ones as a young child, has a certain resilience to the psychosis. Another soldier from Artyom's station lies against the plane's hull, dead, his mask by his side. If you hadn't been here Artyom... Pavel remarks ruefully. With no inch for compassion, however, Artyom loots the body, taking the discarded gas mask. Waste not want not. What happens next, happens fast. Upon exiting the giant sarcophagus, a giant, gruesome bat-creature grabs Artyom and carries him high above the rubble. The cracked streets of Moscow swirl as the creature shrieks, launching Artyom back to the ground with a thud. The noise has attracted some of the bat-thing's friends, creeping, crawling over the shattered husks of the buildings. Artyom readies his shotgun, blasting the approaching mutants with one eye on an escape route. The shooting was one of Metro 2033's weak points, and the developers insist they have taken the criticisms on board to tighten the gunplay. Without getting hands-on, it's difficult to ascertain just how successful this task has been. There's definitely a stronger level of feedback, monsters recoiling as buckshot splashes onto their carapace. The creaky discarded weapons of a post-apocalyptic wasteland are never going to have the same fizz or precision as the modern weaponry of Call of Duty or Battlefield, nor should they, but the rusty shotgun coughs with a satisfying whoomph as Artyom picks off monsters. There's perhaps a little looseness still present, but the spongy unresponsiveness of 2033 has clearly been addressed. And while there was no sneaking around in this section of gameplay to demonstrate it, 4A has also been working on the erratic stealth of the first game, improving the AI response to create more consistent options for avoiding head-on firefights. Panic is beginning to set in with our companions; they desperately need to find a station entrance and retreat back to the Metro. As they tear through the streets, mutant ambushes stop them in their tracks. Rather than an endless stream of enemies, Metro's combat seems to use brief flashpoints, a pulsating rhythm of intense attacks followed by respite and silence. The pacing of this short section, at least, keeps you constantly on edge. The monster attacks are fearsome and overwhelming and can be over as soon as they begin. But not this one. Pavel and Artyom are becoming swamped. They manage to duck into a grandiose station, but still the monsters come, pouring through the shattered windows and crumbling mortar. Now's the time to run, down the escalators, a dead-end, shutters blocking their escape. They're cornered, a wave of mutants slithering down the escalators. Finally, the shutters open, soldiers in hazmat suits emerge with flamethrowers and torch everything in sight. Artyom and Pavel retreat inside, saved, safe. For now.