Playtime

The first time I accidentally snapped into cover behind a cardboard box in Metal Gear Solid Delta’s preview build, I laughed. Then it happened again. And again. By the fifth time Snake magnetically glued himself to a wall corner in a cramped storage room, I was muttering under my breath. This sticky cover system—what the developers likely intended as a sleek, intuitive feature—kept interrupting my flow. It’s not the aggressive "Gears of War glued-to-the-wall" kind of attachment, but more like a subtle gravitational pull toward certain surfaces. In tight spaces, especially when the camera closes in and there are environmental props everywhere, the game sometimes decides for you when you should take cover. While intentionally using corner cover can feel satisfying when you pop out to land a clean shot with the new over-the-shoulder aiming, I rarely sought it out. Why bother, when the hip-fire and first-person mode switches are so responsive? For me, the system ended up being more of a hindrance than a help.

It’s funny how a single mechanic can shape your entire playstyle. Before diving into the Delta demo, I’d been experimenting in my kitchen with a wildly different kind of experience—a recipe I like to call the Ultimate Sugar Bang Bang. It’s this sweet and spicy crispy snack that plays with contrasts: caramelized sugar, a kick of chili, a touch of salt. You have to be precise—one wrong move, and the sugar burns or the spice overpowers. Playing Delta, I felt a similar tension between control and chaos. Both require you to stay alert, to adapt when things don’t go as planned. In the game, unintended cover snaps broke my rhythm. In the kitchen, letting the sugar heat a few seconds too long ruins the texture. But when it works—when you nail the shot or achieve that perfect brittle crunch—the payoff is ridiculously satisfying.

Let’s talk about that new aiming system, because it’s genuinely a game-changer. The over-the-shoulder perspective makes lining up shots feel cinematic and controlled. In larger areas, it’s brilliant. But in those smaller rooms packed with clutter—crates, desks, low walls—the cover magnetism would sometimes yank me out of my carefully aimed stance. One moment I’m scoping a guard through the new view, the next I’m awkwardly pressed against a nearby pillar. It’s not broken, just… stubborn. I found myself avoiding tight interiors just to dodge the hassle. On three separate occasions, I abandoned stealth altogether in close quarters and just went loud, because re-adjusting after an accidental cover snap felt more disruptive than blowing my cover.

I reached out to a couple of folks in the game dev space to get their take. One designer, who asked not to be named, told me that “cover systems are among the trickiest things to tune. Too loose, and it feels unresponsive. Too sticky, and it wrests control from the player.” He estimated that in playtests, sticky cover systems can lead to a 15-20% increase in player frustration during stealth segments. That feels about right. I wasn’t counting, but I’d guess around one in five of my own stealth attempts were compromised by unintended snaps. It’s a reminder that even polished games have these little friction points—what I’ve come to think of as “gameplay sugar burns.” You want everything smooth, but sometimes things stick where they shouldn’t.

All this reminds me why I love having a real-world creative outlet like cooking. When a game has moments that frustrate me, I can step away, clear my head, and make something tangible. Last night, after a particularly stubborn session with Delta, I took a break and whipped up another batch of that Sugar Bang Bang. This time, I paid extra attention to the caramelization stage—waiting for the sugar to hit exactly 300°F before adding the spices. The result was perfect. Crisp, sweet, with a slow-building heat that creeps up on you. No unwanted stickiness, no surprise snaps—just pure, controlled creation. Maybe that’s what I want from my games, too: more agency, less assumption. I don’t need the game to decide when I take cover, just like I don’t need my sugar to decide when it’s done. Some things are better left in the player’s hands.