The Programmer smiled. Here was another tale of conquest and domination, of survival and heroism and abject insanity, of desperation and longing, despair and hope, and always dehumanization. Aware of little of that, he smiled since the polygon count was raised by 20% and a new and improved conversation system was implemented. Gamers will surely smile at this game, genocides are always good fun when one is doing the killing and the monsters here are especially horrific and worthy of bloody dismembered death.
The Publisher is heavily promoting this game, which means The Reviewers are praising, calling it the “RPG of the decade” and other breathless accolades. Everyone serves their role in this perpetual farce. Anticipatory hopeful gamers complete this dark trifecta, thinking that this is the game, this is finally the one.
And so The Hero awoke, again. He is a dusty pauper from a dingy village in the middle of a foreign and yet very familiar land. He has ambitions and aspirations, or now he does after the programmer has gotten a hold of him and made him so. The programmer once again believes that this peasant is special and will save the world from whatever menace he creates. What The Hero himself believes is of no consequence.
So when The Hero went to a field to gather food, he found what was left of a dragon attack. Mutilated corpses, felled trees, charred remains. Upon returning to the village, he found the people terrified and insecure. He vowed to save them.