Gears of War: The Epic Journey

Unlike the shiny Spartan armor, the gritty Gears outfits demanded a rougher approach. So the Nightmare artists turned on their creations, inflicting purposeful damage like bullet scars and pockmarks in the name of realism. Blood and rust dine on the Lancer’s chainsaw bayonet, while scorched oil stains the Boltok pistol. The weapons feel as good as they look; the Lancer in particular has the lightweight heft of an all-purpose death machine from the future. Holding a “real” COG rifle conveys a strange mix of emotions: power, joy, and no small amount of fear. Even fake chainsaw teeth look and feel dangerously real. Holding it in hand, you can’t help but want to melee a Locust with the thing. You simply want to play.

Meanwhile, Sid’s going through a critical transformation. Loaded up with armor plating, rifle, and Marcus Fenix’s do-rag, Sid looks like he just stepped out of a multiplayer match. “When I get into the suit, I’m in-character,” he says with respectful pride. “I am Marcus Fenix.”

Sid Garrand, aka Marcus Fenix.

FOG OF WAR
It’s show time. With the Epic staff distracted with a cunning ice-cream social, Lionel tosses smoke grenades around the corner of the building. Delta Squad penetrates the haze, weapons in hand, striding purposefully toward the unsuspecting employees. A voice cries out: “What the hell is this?” Someone else shouts, “Carmine lives!” Within moments, the crowd is a sea of dropped jaws and shiny cell-phone cameras. Even CliffyB, who usually looks perpetually ready for his close-up, seems a little stunned, emerging from the crowd to tentatively poke and prod each soldier. “The entire thing is just downright trippy and fulfilling,” he says, knocking on the armor, re-enacting game scenes, even pretending to kick Carmine in the crotch. He can do what he likes — his lifesized action figures just arrived.

Only CliffyB is allowed to do that.

After a few minutes of gawking, Sid breaks character. “Once we started playing Gears of War, we were hooked,” he tells the crowd. “We said, ‘That’s our armored suit for the year.’” The scene becomes a mutual-admiration society as members of the crowd start venturing out to have photos taken with the squad, striking silly action poses and asking “Where’s your dropship?”

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