Illustration by Meghan Flood.
Originally published in print March 2021.
Goodbyes are tough. Sometimes it’s a person you love traveling across the world, other times it’s the finale of your favourite TV show. Sometimes though, it’s your university magazine. After four years of writing and editing, we’ve reached the end of our time and we’d like to say goodbye to TN2 by discussing what the “ending” in video games means for us, as well as its importance in this wonderful medium.
Seán – Games Editor
The true “ending” of a game is difficult to define nowadays. Modern games often have no shortage of things to do after the main story is over. But while this might seem like a symptom of game bloat, it’s more of a blessing than a curse. In 2016, during a stressful set of college exams, I took respite in playing an hour or two of Ratchet and Clank every evening. When the end of the story came, I needed a reason to continue coming back to the game every night. So it was straight on to the New Game + mode, then on to the PSN platinum after that. The true ending only came when there was definitively nothing left to do. I completed the game again in March 2020 and I can confidently say that it will not be the last time. I’ll continue coming back to it whenever I need an idle distraction.
I think the most memorable endings in games are the traditional narrative conclusions – the ones that hit you like a train. You know the feeling – it’s 3am, you’ve just played through to the end of a story that you’ve been emotionally invested in for weeks, maybe even years, and you’re left with a void in your very soul. One of my personal favourite endings is in Final Fantasy XV (the very first game I wrote about for TN2). The story follows four young men on a fantastical road trip across the game world. It culminates, in typical Final Fantasy manner, with a cataclysm that only the protagonist, Noctis can avert by sacrificing his life. Gut wrenching as this is, the real kicker comes after the credits, in an extra scene with Noctis and his three closest friends sitting around a campfire before the final battle. There’s no music, no grandeur, no sprawling speech praising the valorous sacrifice Noctis is about to make. It’s just four friends having a heartfelt conversation that they know will be their last. The groundedness and sincerity of the scene is palpable. Noctis pauses, the silences long and poignant. He fumbles his sentences and through teary eyes, eventually finds the right words to express his gratitude to his lifelong friends: “I’ve made my peace. Still, knowing this is it… seeing you all here… it’s more than I can take.” While the same can’t be said for the rest of the game, this scene is exceptionally well written and drives home the steadfast friendship between these four characters, galvanised over the course of a years-long journey. I think about it often, even five years later. Whenever I do, I am reminded of my first article with TN2 – a review of Final Fantasy XV. As my time at the magazine comes to a close, I look back on that article with great fondness, and I’m certain I will look back on this, my final article, with the same sentiment in five years’ time.
Sam – Deputy Editor
In 2011 a CNN article only 10% of the players on the now defunct social platform Raptr had completed the critically acclaimed Red Dead Redemption (2010). Raptr was a platform dedicated to video games, and as such its users were hardcore players, so it is entirely possible that the figure among casual players was lower. Changes to this figure in light of the pandemic notwithstanding, this statistic is likely disheartening for any developer. This is why I think that it’s all the more impactful for me when a game truly has effort and thought put into it. I would like, in light of this, to take you through two games that would not be the same without their endings.
Celeste (2018) follows Madeline, a girl at war with herself. This personal tale sees Madeline’s insecurities literalized into a herculean mountain climb. I call it a challenge game because the difficulty is central to helping the player empathize with her struggle. Throughout the journey she is taunted by a dark manifestation of her anxiety. This character begins antagonistic, and Madeine only begins to overcome her struggle when she reaches out to this part of herself. In doing this they become one. A key mechanic in Celeste is Madeline’s mid-air dash that is recharged when she touches the ground. In this final section however, Madeline receives the ability to dash twice without touching the ground symbolizing her growth. This helps the player through a final gauntlet of platforming challenges that reflects the journey to this point, while the steady pulse provided by the driving strings of Lena Raine’s score gives a feeling of power as they glide through this final level employing the skills they have picked up over the entire game. The ending truly crescendos after the climb. Madeline and her inner self sit on the summit watching the sunrise. The music slows to a bittersweet number, offering time to reflect on the journey. Madeline has begun to heal, but there are still challenges ahead, now she doesn’t have to face them alone.
Child of Light (2014) is a fairytale, but unlike a Disney princess, protagonist Aurora’s tale is one of woe. She loses her mother and then she falls into a comatose state. She ascends to a magical world that is implied to be some sort of afterlife. Princess Aurora is petulant and frequently wishes to leave this fantasy world much to the dismay of the delightful party of lost souls that she befriends along her journey. Over the course of the journey she mellows. Her ability to comfort her party is an asset. She meets people who she could never empathise with from the Austrian castle she grew up in. Over the course of the journey she becomes a leader, listening to her comrades and ultimately defeating her elitist step mother. What struck me about the ending though, was what happened after I put the controller down. In the real world, the kingdom is slowly sinking under a flood. Aurora must now return to the kingdom as queen and does what the previous generation never would have, she invites the subjects of the kingdom into the castle, breaking the boundaries of class. The flood continues to rise however, and Aurora is forced to evacuate everyone to the magical land of Lemuria. As they ascend to the next world, Aurora is with her people. I was moved by the maturity of this ending when I first finished this game seven years ago. Now I am struck by the poignancy of its mythologization of the struggle against rising tides and a changing climate amid the obstructions of class and the inaction of the ruling generation.
Endings are difficult to write, not only due to the weight of expectation that will hopefully be built up by the preceding work, but also because it has to make the player feel like they have had a complete experience. This is what will be sitting with them as they put down the controller. A truly impactful ending will leave the player with a mixture of emotions and thoughts that they will hopefully internalize and remember for years to come.
“When I’m parting with a friend, regardless of the circumstances, I find it best to just say, ‘See you later.’ We’ll meet again. After all” – Shigasato Itoi, 2015
