The Magic Of Cutscenes

Martin’s ass was numb and his face covered in sweat. All that adrenaline that got him here was gone. His trial was nearing an end. It took the form of a 32 bit action rpg. This was the story of Wesley the Wimp who started life with a leather buckler and a wood sword. Countless lives later, Wesley had himself a beautiful sword of folded steel and a shield that the gods forged, unbreakable even by their hands.

Wesley was at the mercy of Vorn the Hated. Vorn had taken his village in flame saving none but Wesley and the sweet princess sequestered there in secret. With ten health points left, Wesley was a blow away from dying once more. Vorn cackled and lingered knowing that he would win once more.

“I’ll give you one chance, just leave.”

That wasn’t Vorn, to Martin’s surprise that was our previously silent protagonist. Wesley slowly began to stand. The world was suddenly better rendered and to Martin’s horror this was a unskippable cutscene. Wesley first shook and then as he leveled his eyes into Vorn’s baffled gaze he repeated.

“One chance Vorn.”

“The king is willing to give me her hand to stay my knife. I am heir apparent to your country and if I wasn’t I would still be more powerful than you can imagine. You are one but might as well be none.”

Wesley’s blue spiky hair shook as he let out an uproarious bout of laughter. He calmed himself down to cheshire cat grin.

“One? Try a thousand, each time I died at the hands of oafish fake cheese covered fingers I was reborn with the exact memory of my usually terrible demise. Those were your minions that killed me, I’m not exactly your biggest fan. The only reason why I’m not killing you is I pity you.”

“Pity? I’ve killed you ten times myself, you should fear me.”

“No, that was him, the kid who finally got some cheat codes. I’m a man who has died a thousand times and somehow gotta stronger with each. I have been played and used and I’m just angry enough to kill you, even though overall your innocent. To me you’re just a placeholder for my torturers. You’ll never quite understand how small you really are and that is a pity.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Yes and I can do that because you aren’t programmed for offensive, you can only react. Well actually, you can’t, this time it’s a bit different. You can feel it can’t you?”

Vorn’s face fell into deep terror.

“That’s right, this is a cinematic. You’re impotent against the laws of drama now. What I’m going to do next is take this sword and shove into that ridiculously large emerald on your chest. Then you will explode and this will all be over. You have expended you’re last chance and you will die. Say hello to my parents for me.”

“You’re parents are in hell, I will send you there.”

“You will try.”

With that Wesley was off. Lighting and fire came at Wesley but he ducked and rolled effortlessly eluding. The best Vorn had was being evaded by a boy who was encumbered by at least a hundred pounds of gear. Vorn knelt, facing the inevitable but finding himself lacking enough bravery to do it himself. Wesley obliged mercifully, his sword drove in and out in a matter of ten seconds. The mage collapsed dead.

Quickly he went to the castle wall where the princess was chained and with a single strike, broke her bonds.

“What now?” The impossibly fair brunette princess looked at him confused.

“Now we live. We live free.”

As he said the last e in free, Wesley gave a second of stern gaze right at Martin. Martin was sure he would  never use that memory card again.


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