True works of art often defy easy categorization. What makes art ‘art’ and sets it apart from good craftsmanship is subtle and subjective. It may be an unusual property an artist gives an object otherwise mundane (Dali, anyone?). It may be a juxtaposition of two unrelated or opposite concepts, controversy it attracts (remember a Benetton campaign with a picture of a priest kissing a nun?). It can be innate beauty of a light ray on a photograph.

Torment is all these things.

In a nutshell Torment is a tale of self-determination, commitment and redemption. It is told by a troupe of bizarro characters: The Nameless One, a scarred barbarian-looking amnesiac with a mysterious past; Morte the flying skull; Fall-from-grace, a succubus turned intellectual courtesan; Ignus, the ever-burning wizard, whom you yourself sentenced to eternal torment (!) in a previous life… . It takes place against a backdrop of a caricature fantasy world where magic, gods, planes of existence, angels, demons and every other supernatural trope are common-place, matter-of-fact occurrences.

It may seem a bit self-indulgent at first, but it does come together well. Like a good drink, each ingredient stands on its own, yet if gently shaken, it creates a potent, memorable experience.

Brothel for Slaking Intellectual Lusts, perhaps the greatest location in a computer game ever

There are many individual qualities that set Torment apart from its siblings. As if to prove a point it takes every computer game cliche and throws it out the window. It is a game in which you achieve more by insulting, persuading, lying and guessing rather than fighting. A game in which there are no magic armors or flaming swords, in which you can sacrifice your companions for your own selfish goals. It compels you to make moral choices that make you cringe at the keyboard, and makes you second-guess and doubt your own moral spine. Torment is a game in which the main characters has no name.

A game in which ‘to win’ means ‘to die’.

As I progressed through the story, I was torn apart by two opposing forces: that, which obsessively wanted me to press on and find out what would happen next, and that, which made me savor each nuance in the descriptions, each side quest and each supporting character.

I repeatedly cursed myself for waiting thirteen years to experience it.

And then came the revelation. I realized why the game resonated with me so much now and why it didn't before.

Over the years everyone inevitably experience episodes of betrayal, loss, envy, happiness, wonder. One starts to appreciate the complexity of choice, futility and hopelessness of an impossible situation, burden of high hopes, regret of a path not taken, or despair of unrealized dreams. And so have I.

This time I could relate.

Torment makes you fight your own demons, literally

Almost every quest and plot point, every tragic character you encounter will resonate with a mature player much more, than with a teenager. Sometimes it is subtle; something in the story reminds you of a real-life situation you've only heard about, something that happens to someone else. Other times it gets into you,evoking long-lost memories. And even though these plot points are diverse and may mean different things to different people, everyone will experience a few episodes that put them in a deeply contemplative mood. Over the course of dozens of hours these little shout-outs build up.

Torment’s greatest artistic achievement is the emotional bond it builds between the player and the characters.

And then, as if watching you play and scheming against you, the game takes it all away. You've reached the endgame. Your friends are gone, dead, lost, suffering for their own sins.

All that remains is to face the ultimate enemy. Yourself. And if you win, you also lose a little. And if you lose, it is a win for the world. And then, when it is finally over and you stare at the credits, a very real sense of loss overcomes you.