At its most fundamental the narrative of Shadowbringers feels alienating, removing us from Eorzea and placing us in a situation that’s seemingly so backwards. A world corrupted by a blinding light so strong it abolished the night, and it’s with this ambiguity of your role as the “Warrior of Light” where Shadowbringers starts to cook all of it’s mastery. Calling into question the unending battle between light and dark that plagues both the series and typical RPG’s, and using the opportunity to instead muse upon the true beating heart of conflict, heroism.

Unlike a work such as AoT which directly criticizes heroism as a shackle which forever catalyzes the endless cycle of violence, Shadowbringers endeavors to celebrate its roots and the righteousness which defines it. By reflecting upon itself through the multi-layered conflict that the lands of Norvrandt contain, we don’t only see the wide and equally personal impact of heroes, but also their necessity. Not only to protect, persevere, and save, but to inspire for our future as the ultimate symbols of both will and humanity at large.

Yet heroism isn’t reserved for just the light, just as Hydaelyn has her champion, so does Zodiark. Each with its own legacy to carry forward, its own right to fight, its own desire for happiness, its own claim to exist. Through this climactic battle of wills and morals is where XIV finds not only it’s strongest emotional beats, but a commentary that will shake anyone cognizant of modern society to their very core.

I’m purely discussing macro here though, because when observing the micro Shadowbringers has a lot of nagging issues consistent with XIV and even of its own design. Yet it’s in the aggregate where you really see the true beauty and elegance of what it was able to accomplish. Ultimately the sin eaters are no different than the Garleans or Dravanias, they are oppressors all the same, but through Norvrandt’s crisis is where XIV is finally able to illuminate its soul, You. The hero who never buckled to your oppressors and continued to keep moving forward, above man and god, towards hell and past it, only to find the answer at the end of the infinite, a glimmer of hope, everlasting.

“Fate can be cruel, but a smile better suits a hero.”

When I discovered Youtube as a child I began to traverse the site during the renowned "Countdown" era, where anyone and everyone tried as desperately as they could to tell whatever "Top 10" their brain could muster. It was through these videos that my pure Nintendo heart would discover not only the games of old but also the games out of my reach, like Shadow of the Colossus, Final Fantasy, Devil May Cry, Metal Gear, and most relevantly God of War. The greatest irony I find in playing God of War (2018) now is that a series that I used to find to be nothing but senseless and brash violence, is now something I respect for not only it’s restraint, but also for its subtelty.

The juxtaposition between the epic battles/turbulent lore, and the serenity of the now decrepit Midgard speaks volumes towards the main theme of control. A concept which is not only felt through the dynamics and tones of the narrative but also in the combat, which heavily punishes the player for attempting to act without any sense of thought or strategy. When compounded by the deceptively sizable amount of side content, it all makes for an extremely satisfying and rewarding gameplay experience. Though it isn’t without its flaws, as the game almost feels baked in a lowkey sense of tedium derived from the consistently shallow puzzle mechanics and constantly expanding world which baits my sense of exploration to a fault.

It’s only natural that a game called “God of War” has effective and meaningful gameplay, but what equally impresses me is just how equally natural the narrative flows...most of it at least. The story starts off powerfully and really ignites your journey in so much purpose and intrigue, each event, each storybeat that follows perfectly illustrates and develops the deafening silence of grief and poor communication that Kratos and Atreus share. It is not only a coming of age story for Atreus, but equally one for Kratos (of a different kind of course), and the way the two interact on their own interconnected emotional journeys is graceful and subtle. Yet as the game goes on, the different detours that block your path begin to stop feeling organic and slowly begin to feel more and more artificial, even to the point of ridicule. By the end, the game does grant the player an awesome battle and appropriate conclusion, but they lack the feeling of being truly climactic.

Luckily for me God of War (2018) was written with a sequel in mind, and I’m excited to finally be able to experience this series as it releases unlike when I was a kid. And with how well 2018 setup Ragnarok both lore-wise and thematically, I seriously doubt it won’t be incredible.