Best Game Ever!
It feels odd to me that I’d be lifting up my walking stick and whining and complaining about how gaming was in the older days when, being barely out of my teen years, I never was really a part of the older days. I never really touched an Atari, and my main console of choice when I was a wee lad was a Super Nintendo. Back during a time where piracy was something only heard about in history books, and torrents were stuff in sea waters. Back during an era where the only game reviews able to be found were in magazines, and thus were definitive law. Where you could ask your friend about that cool game for the SNES or Playstation, and didn’t have to prowl through reviews and message boards online.
I can’t help but marvel at how things have changed since then. I’m not going to say things were better back then, because they weren’t. And I’m not going to say things are better now, because they sure as hell aren’t, either. But I will say that, as of late, people are more eager to swing around the “Best game ever” title, while few of these “greatest adventures yet” actually last beyond a few months.
I know I’m not the only person who plays the original Doom campaigns, and not just out of nostalgia. Not that I have much nostalgia for it in the first place, I only was introduced to Doom when I was, what, 15? My first “serious” FPS series was Unreal.
Along the same lines, Mario Sunshine and Mario Galaxy have tried to make lightning strike twice in order to bring the Super Mario 64 formula back to life again, but have cut little, basic things that made the legendary N64 epic so charming, so fleshed-out and in-depth. Every Zelda iteration past the legendary Ocarina of Time has never really captured the magic since. Crysis, which was dubbed “best FPS ever” numerous times, is really little more than a memory and “Oh, THAT game!” to people right about now. Unreal Tournament 3 is technically amazing, and was dubbed “best multiplayer FPS ever”, despite the fact that it sacrifices so much in order to achieve this technical amazement. Smash Bros. Brawl is frequently heralded as the “best fighter ever”, and has already had several clones, and yet in the same breath you could easily lambast Brawl for its many shortcomings.
Soon, Soul Calibur 4 will be coming out, and I’ve little doubt that it’ll be given numerous awards as “best game ever”. It’ll likely be a great game, too. So many positives. And yet, it’ll also have numerous flaws, and I highly doubt people will be continuing to play it numerous months after the initial release.
What’s the reason for this? Is it because we’re so drenched in seas of vomit that the game industries constantly regurgitate, that any single piece of quality is treasured like bars of gold?
I’m not sure, really.
Compare this with other games. Say, Gotcha Force, Rez, Killer7. Absolutely amazing games, and yet given barely any formal recognition at all–if you talk to a person who plays it, though, they’ll happily admit it’s not only one of the best games for that system, but they still fire it up regularly. Games that don’t even have a chance of being “best game ever”, and largely suffered horrible reviews from professionals. Cult followings, pretty much no chance for a sequel.
While you’re comparing that, also compare this to many games from the SNES and NES era. Even the licensed games were quite good back then–Duck Tales, Kamen Rider, Michael Jordan’s Chaos in the Windy City, and Power Rangers Tournament Fighters. Not to mention the glorious masterpieces that many claim have never been truly recreated since–Kirby Superstar, Super Mario World, Chrono Trigger, Final Fantasy 6, and some even claim Link to the Past though I thought Ocarina of Time did a fine job with that. The good games were truly good games, and the crappy ones were shoved in a rut. Good games got the exposure wanted and needed, and especially nowadays with emulation and downloadable WiiWare/XBox Arcade games, they’re getting a continuing hurrah. Games that truly have stood the test of time, continue to be played, and still provide enjoyment and love.
Are those liable to be counted as the best games ever? Quite likely. They’ve withstood the test of time.
Maybe it’s viewer bias. Maybe some people desperately want to pick nits with these best games, and downplay the quality. Maybe these same people then present the best parts of the underrated games while dismissing their own flaws.
Maybe it came with the development of the internet. A much wider pool of people to meet, a mass number of voices are going to drown out small, tiny voices. We also got introduced to a larger number of jackasses infiltrating daily life. Compare this with just groups of friends back in youth, where you could suggest a game to a friend, let him play it, and he’d be a fan too.
Maybe it’s game developers trying to broaden their appeal to other people, trying to please everyone and just giving a mediocre experience all around.
Games, gaming media, and how we view things have most definitely changed. “Best game ever” is a title just slapped around willy-nilly now, and very rarely carries any weight to it. The golden crown gets handed around left and right.
Halo and Smash Bros., in their original incarnations, got mediocre reviews. People played these games, loved ‘em. They grew famous. Other people tried to imitate them. The sequels got amazing reviews that bragged about “continuing the greatness of the previous title”. Both of those games did things differently, and several people didn’t like them for it. But once they were established and here to stay, said people started changing their tune.
Maybe “best game ever” is just how popular something is, regardless of the quality.
(Halo didn’t do much different, but it did do some things differently, it still sucks, shut up)
The katana was sleek.
This was a given, of course, given how a katana is usually crafted. That would be akin to saying “this is sharp”. But though he had read about them, studied them, and admired them, he had never before picked up a katana and simply analyzed it.
Until now.
Redentore’s metal fingers lifted up and softly grazed along the blade, wiping off the blood that tarnished the otherwise-glimmering steel. It was a beautiful weapon–he had little doubt that the work of katana-making crossed the line from “forging” to “art” without a second glance. The soft curves, the layers of folded steel, the tiny engravings.
It was a shame it had to be appropriated like this. Redentore turned the blade around and gently slid it into the sheathe that was provided, head tilted down to the fresh corpse in front of him the entire while. A nameless ninja, clad in all black with a few pieces of armor. Claimed to be the last of his clan, seeking vengeance.
“I’m truly, truly sorry about this, sir. A broken dream of failed revenge is a dire tragedy.”
But he needed this sword. Love was a powerful force, capable of driving people from the brink of death to overcome impossible odds. A killed loved one can be the force that heightens people from ordinary to extraordinary.
He had been honored accordingly. Redentore had used the armor of the ninja to create a makeshift headstone, carving onto it: HERE LIES A LOST SOUL ETERNALLY, DIED PURSUING A RIGHTEOUS DREAM
But in the end, it had only taken a few minutes, and now those minutes had passed–passed into the past, and what was past should be the past. The focus, now, was the present.
Redentore turned away from the grave and unsheathed the katana once again, eyeing the blade through his helmet. He could feel the anger of the ninja and his clan seething through every inch of metal. And this feeling brought about a smile on his face, hidden underneath his helmet–and why not? This could give way to all sorts of new knowledge. Information on the afterlife! How ghosts manifest on the material plane! How emotions fuel the body! How personal ability can be influenced by dedication!
He could hardly wait to get started.
Soul Edge.
Redentore reclined on his chair as he gazed over at the results scribbled on the parchment in front of him.
He had checked, double-checked, and triple-checked his calculations. He had even re-derived the mathematical formulas in order to ensure he hadn’t misused any of them. Tracing the essence of the love back to the ghosts that had been slain, and tracing the reason they had died was all actually rather simple–there was just so much of it, he had more than a little reason to believe one of his calculations was in error.
But in the end, all of the answers pointed back to one sword: Soul Edge. The soul-drinking sword of legend. The shape-shifting fabled “Ultimate Weapon”. Redentore had heard more than one tale about this blade. Rumors and legends piled upon each other, forming a mountainous tale that only the bravest would sift through in order to separate fact from fiction. It could single-handedly cleave through an entire city! It could alter reality itself! It could change time! It could allow the wielder to fix his history! It would possess the wielder into a monstrous killing machine!
He had always considered it a time-waster, personally. There was just too much else to be involved in, mythology could just quietly be swept away. Fact was always more reliable than fiction, though fiction was admittedly far more entertaining.
But…was THIS where his research was headed?
Redentore gazed at the ceiling as thoughts swam inside of his head.
Soul Edge was dangerous. He knew that much. No matter what was fact or what was fiction, the point was that a weapon wouldn’t have so many legends surrounding it if it didn’t possess frightening power. Power that could be used to decimate the world, or remake it into something better.
Power that he cared very little for.
Redentore was no fool. He was well aware of the limits of his power–and he knew precisely what could happen if he was to try and control something with power infinitely beyond what he was capable of now. There was a chance he could contain it, but there was also a greater chance that he would be consumed by it.
But right now, there was nowhere else to go. He had already re-calculated, re-derived, re-checked, and started things over from scratch. For his research to continue, only Soul Edge could provide the answers.
“Dammit.”
He hated swearing. He always believed that eloquence could express more succinctly what vulgarity struggled with. He liked to keep others’ language in check, though he would be lying if he stated that any of them gave him heed and simply upped the ante. He would also be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the fresh ire.
But right now, “Dammit” was pretty much all that could encompass this. He knew the dangers of getting involved in matters far beyond himself. He knew that he was not the only person looking for Soul Edge. And he knew that he could just drop this matter entirely and start researching something else. He could try to destroy Soul Edge, reach into the lore, seperate between fact and fiction, and try to destroy the blade so it wouldn’t ever get in his way like this again–but then, the majority of people that would be affected by this would be beneficial, so this was clearly a “hero” thing to do. He was a villain. He didn’t do things for the benefit of others.
Redentore sighed as he stood up, and grabbed his katana. Turning around, he made his way out of his laboratory.
This would take some thought.
And the best way to think would be to dive headfirst into thought-provoking situations.
Redentore was a man of knowledge, a man of gentility, and a man of pure, unadulterated evil. And right now, Soul Edge was in the way of all three. Its presence confused him. Its presence irritated him. And its presence necessitated that he do good.
“Dammit, indeed.”
