In the always imaginative word of indie gaming, it’s ever-increasingly the case that finding out anything about a game before you play is to take away from the experience. But then you could argue the same is true of most things in life. Which is why I like to break into maternity wards and start telling babies all the spoilers I can think of. “Puberty sucks!” I will shout, as the angry midwives drag me backward from the room. “They lie to you about cell structure in GCSE biology!” I cry as I’m thrown through the doors. But here’s the fascinating thing about Antichamber: even as the developer told me what the game was doing to mess with my brain while I was playing it, it still succeeded in messing with my brain.

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