In rare instances, and only toward the end of the three to four hour adventure, the solutions are unclear. Limbo leaves you to discover the answer on your own because the answer is usually easy to uncover. And because you have just two actions – jumping and interacting – you don’t have many restrictions. Certain situations, like the zip-line in one of the last chapters, can kill Limbo’s otherwise steady pace. These uncommon occurrences feel less like a great addition to the game, and more like an agitating chore that gets in the way of the otherwise incredible time.

That this is the sole source of my frustration with Limbo amazes me. The game deliberately handicaps you, both as an incapable character – remember, you’re just a boy. You can’t leap very far and you can’t swim – and as a participant in an unpredictable, unfamiliar world. This adds to the experience, however, because you’re constantly vulnerable, which adds to the constant thread of fear across Limbo.

Defying my expectations as an “art game” skeptic, Limbo is a brilliantly thematic artistic achievement and a beautifully designed gameplay experience. Regardless of its brevity, price, or minor frustrations, this is one of the best games currently available on Xbox Live Arcade. It’s also one of the most essential must-play experiences this generation.