Jada Hauser | The Washtenaw Voice
This article contains spoilers for the video game “Undertale”, developed by Toby Fox. |
Alice McGuire | Deputy Editor
I’m still processing my first playthrough of “Undertale” by Toby Fox, which has since come to be known for its multiple routes.
When I check the Steam page, describing it as “the RPG game where you don’t have to destroy anyone,” I have to wonder what led me to assume that this was reverse psychology.
Fighting is just what one does in a video game, right?! I wanted to win, and I had no interest in being tricked. So, I proceeded with the assumption that, if killing everyone was inevitable, I might as well make things easier for myself by getting it out of the way while maxing out my LV.
I can’t remember much of that playthrough other than the nauseating weight of watching the results of my actions impact the characters’ storylines. I began to wonder how such a bleak game could seem so warm in its Tumblr tags.
That was roughly a decade ago, and I have since spoken to enough souls about my Undertale experience to understand that I was the problem. My original takeaway of, “What is wrong with this fandom?” morphed into “What is wrong with me? How could I have committed these atrocities?!”
Maximus Goldenburg, a cybersecurity major, told me that what stuck with him about the game was the “consequences” and “permanence” of the player’s actions.
Determined to be a pacifist, I finally restarted the game over spring break. My niece, a self-appointed Undertale expert, helpfully mocked me for having trusted Flowey, a flower who warmly welcomes the player at the start of the game, shortly before calling them an idiot and letting them know, “In this world, it’s kill or BE killed.”
In my defense, Undertale isn’t exactly a realistic portrayal of communication. It reads like a fairytale, with a healthy dose of silliness and anime references. But something rings true about the gentle ways in which the game showcases love, joy and friendship as well as the pain of their absence.
Rather than a morose cloud hanging over my head, I found myself feeling a strange stirring of emotions as I petted dogs, flirted with ghosts and watched character dynamics unfold, many of which I had previously been unaware of due to my own misdeeds.
Serina Qaqish, a radiography major, said the game’s theme of “family” remained with her long after watching playthroughs.
Much like real life, choosing options other than fighting proved to be most rewarding. In addition to not feeling like a monster, I found myself actually beginning to care.
By the end, Flowey probably provided the best insight into what to share with my therapist about my Undertale experience, with the line, “Don’t you realize that being nice … just makes you get hurt?” I realize that, Flowey. But I no longer want fear to sever me from love.
