I'm a damned dirty liar. I made that there post down there a few weeks ago about how enraptured I was with XCOM: Enemy Unknown and how, despite its entirely uninspiring run-of-the-mill alien invasion story, it allowed for compelling personalized narratives through decision making (fuck Nigeria they only are going to contribute $50 to our cause) and well-defined rules (my sniper can move behind cover but won't be able to take a shot until next turn). Well, I haven't played it in a couple weeks, nor have I shared any of these oh-so-compelling stories. I'm a real jerk.
This often happens with me. I rarely finish a game, especially one that could take 20 hours or more. I don't have much free time and spend much of it whining about how I don't have enough of it. But I really thought I would this time! Look at that confidence in the last post. I was poised, ready to write and share and have a grand ol' time and then nothing. However, I do think it's worth exploring why. Maybe it's not entirely my fault, maybe XCOM and I just didn't jive as well as I thought we did. WHY!?
Well, I failed. My first play-through was going okay. I didn't know that it was so imperative to build as many satellites and up-links as possible to appease as many of the 16 countries as possible, which in turn would make them throw money at me, which I could throw at more satellites, research, and of course - guns. So, I eventually reached the fail state. Over 8 countries withdrew funding and I was awarded a brief cut-scene showing the vile aliens taking over the council and, by extension, the world. Boo-hoo.
Mainly though, it was what lead to that demise. I made the mistake of naming my soldiers after my friends (and Buffy Summers but I know her *so* well).
"Oh, this is make me be more careful and make the death of these little avatars a bit more meaningful. It'll be both fun and moving!" I said to myself
I was wrong. It was fun, sure, but it was a little too moving.
There was a terrorist attack. One of the less common missions where you have to fly to a carefully enclosed location and try to protect both your squad and 18 or so civilians from initially unseen aliens creeping out of the shadows. They're not easy. This particular one was on a bridge in some country I don't remember and I soon discovered that many of the alien enemies in this particular scenario were Chryssalids. Chryssalids are fast-moving, wall-crawling quadrupeds with two attacks: a) slicing with their sharp legs, and the much more menacing b) killing maneuver where they their helpless victim off the ground and brutally impale them, implanting them with an embryo. After a few turns, these Chryssalid victims rise as undead zombies who slowly shamble around looking to take a bite or vomit on the nearest person. After a few more turns , we witness the miracle of life. The zombie twitches, doubles over, and explodes in half as the newest widdoo baby Chryssalid is welcomed into the world.
For the first time with my experienced crew, we were overwhelmed. Civilians were dying fast and new Chryssalids were crawling out of them all over the place. I resigned to not worry about them - we were having enough trouble just moving forward on the bridge as it was. It was time to buckle down and defend ourselves, but they were too much. One by one, my friends (even the Slayer) were brutally killed in a brief cinematic cut-scene, only to rise again looking to hurt each other. It was almost relieving to see them replaced by Chryssalids, at least the things killing my remaining friends were no longer other friends - which felt too much like friend group in-fighting. The only thing worse would have been if I named them after my parents, no child likes witnessing their parents fight.
The worst part, most definitely, was when my squad ceased to be a squad, when we were reduced to a sole survivor. My badass sniper fiance. She was vastly outnumbered, with the enemy population growing every few turns and all attention now squarely on her. I seized up. It was over. We lost. I knew it. But the thought of seeing her viciously impaled was too much. So, she ran. In XCOM, you can have two actions per turn. Every turn, I used both of them to run, but it only delayed the inevitable. There were too many aliens and too little space to keep the cat and mouse game up forever. It was legitimately hard to watch. Looking back, I realize now that I might have been able to have her abort the mission. That doesn't make it any easier.
After I'd failed at protecting Earth, I restarted the game. Now I have a better understanding of what to prioritize, of how to keep council members happy and my squad alive. I chose to name them after my daughter's limitless supply of imaginary sisters, rather than actual friends. No members have dropped out, I've lost one lowly default-named soldier, and the planet is in pretty good shape. If I don't press X to scan for activity, the Earth won't spin. Time is stopped. Terrorist attacks don't happen. My friends are safe, so are yours. I like it here. This is where I want to be.