The next dimension you gain the ability to enter and exit is the slow-motion dimension. Here, time slows to a crawl; lasers that normally shoot forth at imperceptible speeds can now be outrun, and you can give yourself ample time to leap onto that footstool you just threw over a chasm and ride it to safety, which feels like a spectacular feat. Slow motion is common enough in games, but this is slow even by slow-motion standards. You can toss an object from one room into another, slow down time, and then run into the next room and have seconds to spare before the object arrives. The numerous enjoyable applications of this dimension will have you wishing you could carry it with you out of the game and back into the real world.
In the final dimension you gain access to, gravity is reversed, and anything that isn't bolted down (except you) flies up toward the ceiling. With this ability, you can use safes as elevators and trigger switches on ceilings, among other things. Much of the time, Quantum Conundrum crafts clever puzzles around these four dimensions. Getting through a chamber is rarely a simple matter of using just one dimension; rather, you typically need to make use of the properties of two or three or four dimensions to arrive at the exit, and objects such as drinking birds (those toy birds that dip their heads periodically) are also sometimes essential to your success.
Though many of the puzzles may have you stumped for a bit, the solutions are always logical and fair, abiding by the observable properties of the dimensions you have available. As a result, the epiphanies that hit your brain like lightning strikes when the confounding suddenly becomes clear will have your inner mad scientist hopping with glee.
Only objects in the heavy dimension can withstand the intensity of these lasers.
Alas, Quantum Conundrum isn't content with putting you in the role of interdimensional problem-solver. You must also be a platforming hero. Leaping onto a slow-motion safe as it soars through the air is easy enough, but you're called upon to perform some increasingly difficult feats in the later areas of the mansion--leaping between flying pieces of furniture while also deftly switching between dimensions to keep them sailing through the air without bringing them into contact with lasers, for instance. The first-person perspective makes it hard at times to judge just where you are in relation to objects around you, and the trickiness of successfully pulling off some of the necessary maneuvers may have you second-guessing yourself. Is what you're doing not working because it's not the right solution, or are you just not pulling it off correctly? Quantum Conundrum is at its best when it requires your brain, rather than your reflexes, to do the heavy lifting.
But the occasional frustration that results from these weaker moments isn't enough to derail Quantum Conundrum. The rewarding sense of experimentation and problem-solving that dominates this quest makes putting up with its foibles worthwhile, and the twisting, puzzling halls of Quadwrangle Manor are substantial enough to justify the $14.99 price of admission. It doesn't always play to its strengths, but the clever ideas and confounding brainteasers of Quantum Conundrum make it a mostly enjoyable journey into the fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh dimensions.