Have you ever played a game and lost so bad that you smashed your controller against the wall?
You haven't?
How cute.
Well, I just did.
"Fucking hell!" I cursed angrily as I threw my controller against the wall, smashing it into pieces.
"This game is fucking impossible to beat! What the fuck?!"
You see, I was a hardcore gamer, and I loved facing challenges. Horizon, Boundless, Paradise, and other renowned ARPG games couldn't pose any challenge to me. I easily ranked among the top ten gamers in the global leaderboards, and my in-game name 'Zero' was widely known and respected.
My skills were top notch, my strategies were flawless, and since I'd built a noteworthy reputation online, both Super Guilds and Alliances had extended olive branches to me several times.
That was until Tower of Babel came out.
I thought it was going to be like the other games, a flashy ARPG game with overhyped graphics, recycled game mechanics and a bland storyline, but I was grossly mistaken.
Tower of Babel was an impossible game to beat. The game was brutal and relentless. The enemies were almost impossible to kill, and despite my god-tier reflexes, my perfect timing, and my experience with every genre under the sun, I couldn't even get past the fifth floor. The floor guardian there was a nightmare, and it was one that made Dark Souls bosses look like training dummies.
I turned off my gaming monitor with a guttural curse. I nearly threw it across the room in a fit of rage, but when I remembered the exorbitant cost of the monitor, my rage cooled a little bit, and the strings of my sanity held me back.
"Shit!" I cursed again. I was still feeling shitty, and I couldn't stand to let things just end like this.
I glanced at my now smashed controller with a burning gaze, a slight trace of regret welling up in my heart. It had landed on the cigarette-stained carpet with a dull thud, with wires tangling like the intestines of a gutted animal.
My dirty apartment greeted me in all its filth: cigarette butts overflowing in a chipped ashtray, empty soda cans rolling on the floor when my chair scraped back, and the lingering stench of instant noodles mixed with stale smoke.
My temple throbbed, and the frustration I was feeling burned hotter in my heart with each passing second.
"This game is a steaming pile of shit." I swore irately, and in irritation I shoved my laptop open. The greasy keys stuck under my fingertips as I pulled up the official Tower of Babel site.
I instantly navigated past the forums and clicked on the Write a Review option, and I let it all out.
"Tower of Babel is nothing but an overhyped scam disguised as a game. The developers do not care about the gameplay at all, and I'm very surprised how this game passed their internal review to be released to the general public."
"The Mechanics are clunky, the balance is nonexistent, and don't even get me started on the RNG. A monkey throwing dice would design better systems."
"The game is nothing but utter trash. It is unbalanced, unfair, and the only thing they care is how much money P2W players can generate for them."
"No sane developer would call this game playable. The AI cheats, the difficulty curve is a brick wall, and anyone who pretends otherwise is just lying to themselves."
"Tower of Babel is a waste of time, and anyone stupid enough to spend hours into this trash of a game deserves the brain damage they'll get. I wouldn't touch this broken mess again even if you paid me."
"It's a zero out of ten, period."
I hit Post with a satisfying slam of the enter key.
"There," I muttered, leaning back and lighting a cigarette. "Done. Goodbye and good riddance."
I felt a flicker of satisfaction as the post was uploaded. With my reputation as a top gamer, it didn't take long for the notifications to start rolling in. I smiled and refreshed the page, seeing that my post had already been pinned. However, as I opened the notifications to read, a deep frown unknowingly appeared on my face.
Goddoeslikeugly: @Zero look at this fraud bitching over the fifth floor of a game lol.
cowabunga: @Zero give up lol. The tower's not for washed-up gamers like you.
icepick44: Bro couldn't handle a low-tier floor and now he's writing essays. Cry harder.
mochafrappuccino: Didn't this guy ragequit Dark Souls too? LMFAO
VelvetCrow: @Zero maybe touch grass instead of crying on the forums for clout.
What the—?
I clenched my jaw angrily, and I could feel the heat rising in my chest. I didn't hesitate one bit and replied harshly.
Zero: At least I've cleared content you casuals couldn't dream of. Half of you would get flattened on the tutorial floor.
Barely some seconds later, their replies came flooding in.
Goddoeslikeugly: Ohhh we struck a nerve. Tutorial boss lives rent free in your head, huh?
cowabunga: Zero's out here bragging about the tutorial like it's Harvard.
Stxrmblessed: Imagine flexing when you're the one who can't pass floor 5.
"Fucking shits!" I cursed angrily at their response. However, I was not one to be outdone in keyboard wars.
Zero: Do you idiots even understand how scaling works in this game? No, of course not. Because you're too busy licking the devs' boots to notice how broken it is.
icepick44: If scaling's broken, maybe get good instead of crying?
mochafrappuccino: You're like that guy who fails a driving test and then blames the car.
The laughter emoji's piled up beneath their comments, and soon thousands of comments flooded my review. They were all calling me washed-up, a fraud, and a joke.
I slammed the laptop shut angrily and lit a cigarette, the bitter smoke filling my lungs as if it could burn away the anger I was filling. My reflection in the black screen of my gaming monitor looked back at me, and I frowned. My eyes were bloodshot, my hair unkempt, and my skin was dull and flaky.
I took a long drag of the cigarette and exhaled slowly, the nicotine slowly calming me down, then the wave of exhaustion took over. My body ached from hours of immersion, and my eyelids sank heavily.
I stubbed out the last cigarette in the ashtray, kicked off my chair, and collapsed into my bed without bothering to clean up. My mattress smelled like smoke and sweat, but hell if I cared. A few minutes later, I fell asleep.
***
I woke up with a jolt. My body was cold and wet, and my palms pressed into something soft and uneven. The air wasn't stale like my apartment, and it carried the heavy scent of rain-soaked earth.
I blinked slowly, and when I opened my eyes again, the world had changed.
The ceiling of my apartment was gone, and it was replaced by a sky that was a mixture of molten gold and deep violet. The stench of cigarettes and mold had vanished, and so was the sense of familiarity I felt.
"What the hell…?" I muttered in confusion. I immediately sat up, my heart hammering as I realized I wasn't laying on my bed anymore. I was lying on dirt instead.
I blinked hard and turned around. Trees towered above me, their leaves swaying with the wind. The patter of rain was relentless as it soaked me, dripping into my hair and running down the back of my neck.
I pushed myself up, but nearly wobbled to the ground a second later. My body felt wrong, lighter in some parts and heavier in others. It was like my balance had shifted, and I couldn't help but start panicking.
I staggered a step forward, the rain hitting hard and pelting my skin hard enough for it to sting.
I wished so badly that I was dreaming, but it didn't seem like I was; at least not with how fast my heart was beating.
I was about to take another step forward when a massive sense of oppression suddenly appeared!
My throat dried up, and each breath I took became heavily labored. Just when I thought I was going to pass out from the oppression I was faced with, a ubiquitous voice suddenly tore through the storm.
"Welcome, challengers…to the Tower of Babel."
I immediately froze, my thoughts becoming a jumbled mess. My mouth dried up, and my gut twisted. I felt like I was going to retch and throw up whatever was left in my stomach.
The Tower of Babel?
I knew that name!
It was the name of that cursed game!
The impossible one!
The one I had just trashed, cursed and spat on!
A laugh slipped out of my mouth, and it was closer to hysteria and madness than it was to humor.
"…No fucking way."