Gods Will Be Watching (6 hours
to beat), was originally developed as a thirty minute game for Ludum
Dare in
2013. The solo episode they produced ended up on sites like
Kongregate, where
you can still play it
for free. When this minigame received enough critical
acclaim,
the title was picked up by Devolver Digital, and developed into a
series of seven forty-five minute puzzles. Deadly puzzles. The
originally game, revised and expanded, became the eponymous level
four.
And with the
title, the developers found a unifying theme to link the episodes
together. The plot follows Sergeant Burden (in 2257 C.F.D), a member
of E.C.U.K (Everdusk Company for Universe Knowledge), undercover and
infiltrating Xenolifer (an organization dedicated to the freeing of
all non-human life from slavery). In the distant past the Constellar
Federation enslaved all non-mammalian lifeforms and Xenolifer finds
this intolerable. The game is a bit unclear what alien life exists,
as the player only ever sees humans, dogs, and robots during the
game. But while Everdusk had hoped to control Xenolifer through
Burden, and fashion a better, more peaceful future, the charismatic
leader of Xenolife, Liam turns to bio-terrorism. Though Liam's
original plans are ill-defined, he eventually decides to develop and
release the Medusa virus, an infectious agent which causes paralysis,
then death in all mammals.
The basic plot
is clear and thought provoking, but both the meta-plot and the
details escape me. The player discovers Burden is immune to hunger,
thirst, a lethal injection, and can't be weighed. But Burden can
tire, and possibly die (though this is uncertain). Is he immortal?
Is he even human? The game fails to explain, and the gamer can
conceive only wild theories, constructed out imagination rather than
fact.
What
is the game about? One possibility, is the pointlessness of choices
in video game. Each level Burden has a number of companions who vary
over his adventure. And each companion is subject to the choices of
Burden. Someone will die. Horribly. And again. And over and over
again. Jack, a fellow Everdusk ally, appears in episodes 1,2,3,4,
and 5. When any ally dies, they reappears in later levels as if
almost nothing had happened, but not entirely. Instead, those who
have died but are alive anyway, flicker and shake in their pixelated
presence. GWBW allows death because without it there is no threat
and no challenge. But it needs everyone alive because companions are
essential to future puzzles. And yet, the GWBW indicates to the
player, that when characters die (even though they return) something
has happened. It's just not clear what happened.
Each level is a
set piece, where Burden is in a difficult situation. Each level is a
single screen, where Burden commands his companions to perform tasks.
Sometimes the player has a total number of tasks which can be
performed. Other levels, each character can perform one task per
turn. There's always some sort of timer counting down, before
defeat; oxygen running out, police approaching, needing to reach a
spaceship on time. Each level is a balancing act of resources and
time, with multiple objectives in competition. Each level is tough,
and I played on Original Light, which is described by the game as
“Still a bit evil”. This was after briefly trying Original,
“Harsh, Unforgiving, and Evil” and the developers aren't kidding.
After failing to beat the first episode on original, a complete
playthrough on Light required only replays of levels one, five, and
six.
The missions are
unique in spite of their time management perspective. They include
breaking into a science facility which goes totally sideways,
surviving twenty days of torture, developing a cure under desperate
circumstances, wandering around a desert, surviving a frozen planet
while waiting for rescue, interrogating hostile foes, and an eternal
duel. Note, all levels are turn based, but I spent the whole first
level operating as if events were happening in realtime. It
undoubtedly made the level harder than necessary.
While the game
uses numbers to display success and failure, the manner of success
and defeat remain obscure. While the tools available to Burden are
obvious, their interactions, and the permutations required for
success, are a tangled mess. This isn't a bad thing. In fact, as
Burden sat, tied to chair, facing a man who had already beaten him
bloody for five days (and tore his friend Jack in half with a wall
rack). Who now aimed a seven shooter with a solitary bullet in it, I
felt the horror of the scars upon Burden's body, but also the strange
contentment of having survived so long, and willing to dare the odds
just a bit more. In hindsight, the effects of choice become clear,
but the path to the goal is a journey composed of sidequests and
secret paths, waiting to be discovered.
The difficulty of the game, which
offers five choices, from Original to Story Mode (recommended only if
you can't handle the challenge), isn't because any particular choice
is hazardous (but they are), nor because each level requires many
choices (and they do), but because each level incorporates a
significant amount of chance, and if the dice rolls against Burden,
he's going to need to start over. For example, as the executioner
twirled the barrel of the gun, and held the one and seven chance of
death to his temple, Burden had to decide to beg, think, lie, or
confess. Begging might end the torment before it'd begun, or it
might end in a pull of the trigger. Thinking would prepare Burden
for a better lie, but did Burden have the time? A lie might
successfully delay the torture, or the interrogator might see through
the unprepared falsehood. Confession was the final option, but how
much can one confess before there isn't anything left to admit to,
and are therefore superfluous to the captor. With death possible in
the first shot, was it worth risking a turn by begging or thinking?
But the question would become even more relevant after the first
empty chamber was fired. How long can one delay the inevitable
before taking a risk?
That's the game in its simplicity. How
long can the player avoid the risk of disaster, while trying to
achieve your objective?
And as Burden piles the bodies around
him in heaps, mounds, and mountains, both friend and foe, can he deal
with the compounding choices of death, risk, and desperation which
will leave you asking:
Are the God's watching your choices, or
is it empty out there? And if they are, do you care?
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