“Hey, what was that red stuff at the start of the
game?”
That was what I asked myself several times
throughout the game, most notably in the second-to-last chapter. See, in the first mission there’s a red mist
and lights and tentacles that appear out of nowhere that -- well, they don’t
really attack you per se. They just kind of hang there menacingly, and
none of your attacks work on them.
They’re gone before long, though, both in the mission and the story at
large. Seriously, I don’t think anyone comments on what they saw. Ever.
It’s pretty much stricken from the game -- a game which, I should say
upfront, I’ve finished as of this post (as compared to the earlier ones).
Since the game pretty much decided to ignore it, I
did too. I focused on the main plot,
i.e. the war between the on-the-ropes Rubrum and the invading Militesi
Empire. As such, the main villain of the
game (if you could call him that) is Imperial Marshal Cid Aulstyne, the guy
behind the Empires forces…if we assume that said empire has no distinction
between military leaders and political leaders, but whatever. It’s safe to say that he’s the one players
will have to face off at some point -- because with this being a Final Fantasy game, and following in the
footsteps of vanilla FF13, anyone who
is old and has wrinkles is evil and must die.
Sounds simple enough, right? Oh, if only…
Part 7: This is Madness
(Or: WHAT)
Let me say this to start (and if it wasn’t obvious
before, I’m
going into full-on spoiler mode): the campaign to rout and occupy
the Empire is an absolute joke. It’s
hilariously bad, as if Squeenix ran out of money in the home stretch. What should be the climactic moment in the
entire game -- story or otherwise -- full of meaning and catharsis basically
boils down to one boss fight for the entire mission. That’s it.
One boss fight, against a guy in a mech you already fought (and had no
presence in the story, because that’s how Type-0
rolls). And as usual, it’s a boss
that doesn’t test your skills or preparation, but is only difficult because
he’s a flying enemy -- one with Haste activated, so your melee characters are
virtually useless against his sudden hyper-speed.
The sad thing is that a sufficiently-leveled Ace
can take the guy out single-handedly in a matter of minutes, if not
seconds. So you say goodbye to the
so-called Qator the Unscathed…who really should have had a better name, because
A) he’s only unscathed because he hides inside his mech, and B) I kicked his
ass once before already. And that’s it
for Militesi. The next thing you know,
the mission is complete, the Empire gets occupied -- almost entirely off-screen
-- and there’s zero in-game fanfare from anyone or anything. At most, you get to have a victory lap as you
manually ride your chocobo back to the academy.
So ends Chapter 7.
And then there’s Chapter 8.
You cannot even begin to fathom the sheer level of
“what the fuck” this turn of events
inspired. Contextually, there is one
conversation that foreshadows what happens.
Just one -- and it’s completely possible to miss (as I did). And sure, a couple of people wonder just what
Cid’s up to with his plan, but that’s a consequence of both his character and
his motivation never being explained. I
don’t know if what he’s doing is weird, because I never knew what he was doing
in the first place. Putting it simply, Type-0 goes from having almost no plot
to ALL OF THE PLOT…from an entirely different game. It’s like going from a shitty knockoff of Saving Private Ryan to Resident Evil: Apocalypse for the final
act.
So, let’s start cracking this thing open. Because I’m dumb and want to torture myself.
Probably one of the first major events of the
chapter -- or the minutes before it -- is that Rem keels over at last. It would probably work a lot better if they
had actually shown Rem doing more
than just coughing on occasion over the forty-ish hours I put into the game (HRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGH),
but whatever. The important thing is
that Rem gets removed from the party, as does Machina. And now it’s not just Rubrum on the ropes,
but the entirety of the world of Orience.
From what, you ask? From the
Rursus, I answer. What’s a Rursus, you
ask? GREAT QUESTION!
I’ll admit that when I first encountered one, I
had a genuine “Oh shit!” moment -- because while I was walking through
Akademeia, I swiveled the camera to have a look around, and when I swiveled
back, I suddenly had a twenty-foot tall magic soldier winding up in front of
me. But once you get over the initial
shock, the Rursus are not all that impressive.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to see a new enemy type besides a
different-colored Flan, but even with their ability to teleport and not flinch
from most attacks, they’re no threat.
They’re slow, they’ve got a heavily-telegraphed attack (that can inflict
a Killsight on you, but that’s not much of an issue), and as the icing on the
cake, they’re about a dozen levels weaker than you. Soooooooooooo all that talk of needing to be
Level 36 was just a bunch of lies, wasn’t it Moglin?
I guess the idea with these guys was to make them
enigmatic (and scary because of it), but it’s impossible for me to feel
anything but confusion about the Rursus -- and not the good kind of confusion,
either. What are these things? Where did they come from? What do they want? Why are they here? It’d be nice to know at least a little bit
about the super-monsters that have left Akademeia in ruins and turned hundreds
of cadets into bloodless corpses -- but as Type-0
presents them, the supposed super-monsters that no one can defeat (which
they should be able to anyway, if only to make an escape before they supposedly regenerate) can be dispatched
in an instant by the player and any given trio of Class Zero cadets. Can you see how that might be a problem?
I will be fair, though. There’s a lot to complain about in Chapter 8
-- and I will, just you wait -- but in some ways it’s actually an improvement
over everything that came before it. The
chain of command gets broken, meaning that there’s no one to bark orders at
Class Zero; because of that, Class Zero finally, finally, FINALLY gets to act and react on their own terms. They actually get cutscenes to talk to each
other, figure out what to do, and show off their characters. Why couldn’t that happen more than, like, twice
throughout the entire game? I don’t
know. But it happened, and it does
wonders for the proceedings.
But unfortunately, it’s marred by some of the same
old problems. Everyone in the world, the
Akademeia cadets in particular, thinks that the sky turned red and the sea
turned black because of Class Zero. Are you kidding me? We’re
doing this shit again? Why are we
blaming the people who have been nothing but helpful? Why are we not blaming the Empire that
started this mess in the first place?
Class Zero saved Rubrum’s collective asses one mission after another,
and now they’re the scapegoats
again? Christ, maybe I really am the
only one paying attention here. It’s
either that, or no one in Orience understands the concept of motive,
opportunity, and M.O.
So let’s talk about our main baddie, Cid. Inasmuch as anyone can talk about a
non-entity -- or to be more precise, he’s just Barthandelus again.
I spent pretty much the entire game expecting
someone to step in and take the role of central villain from Cid. It’s happened before; Sephiroth hijacked FF7, Ultimecia hijacked FF8, and you could argue that at least
three characters hijacked FF10 from
demon whale Sin. But that didn’t
happen. Cid is the villain at the start
and the villain at the end -- barring some extra scenes or bosses in New Game
Plus, but let’s not get into how stupid that would be. The point is that Cid doesn’t have the
presence needed to justify being the main villain. He’s lucky to get as many lines as he did in
the chapters prior -- that number being less than a dozen, and that’s a
generous estimate.
Imagine my surprise, then, when he spends almost
the entirety of the final (or rather, first) dungeon doing his best impression
of Borderlands’ Handsome Jack.
Cid sets up shop inside the suddenly-arisen
Pandemonium, and as the new ruler of the roost, he goes on and on in the most
purple of prose about how Class Zero is unworthy, and how the world is
unworthy, and how everyone is a waste of space and should be wiped out, and
blah blah blah. Copy-paste Barthandelus’
inane rambling from FF13, and you’ve
got Cid in a nutshell, as well as the game’s final hours…only since he’s
talking to you in-game, you couldn’t skip it if you tried. Once again, the fact that nothing happens and
nothing is explained ends up hurting this game -- but let’s go ahead and start
with the big question: who the hell is
this guy?
It’s a safe bet that Cid is a military dog out to
make his country the best around -- or at least, it was a safe bet. But in light
of the story we’re given (without a New Game Plus, because you shouldn’t need
two playthroughs to understand core concepts of a story), the only explanation
I can think of is that Cid was a fal’Cie all along. And even that’s a terrible explanation. If it turns out that he was a fal’Cie out to judge humanity or whatever, then why did he
bother masquerading as a marshal? If his
power bordered on the godlike, then why waste untold years working his way up
the ranks when he could have just unleashed havoc with his superhuman
powers? Was being the marshal his Focus? If so, why?
And would that turn him into a crystal as well?
The alternate explanation is that Cid was a human
who wormed his way into Pandemonium and was rewarded with power, but that makes
even less sense. So you’re telling me,
game, that a normal-ass dude with nothing but a sword managed to cut his way
through to the inner sanctum amidst swarms of unholy knights and seize
quasi-godhood? When? How? Why?
He practically had the world eating out of his hand well before game’s
end, but he decided he needed to…do what, exactly? What was his end goal? Kill everyone so he could assert his
power? He already did that! He already won! Why did he need to go that far? Why did he need to conquer Rubrum as well, or
even in the first place?
I want to like you, Type-0. I really do. But you’re making that really hard, because
you WON’T. FUCKING. EXPLAIN. ANYTHING.
But wait!
There’s more! It turns out that
the trigger for this so-called Tempus Finis is for any one country to control
the four crystals of Orience.
Soooooooooooooooo…I guess that was Cid’s plan from the beginning, but
that just opens up a whole mess of questions.
Is this common knowledge in Orience?
I would assume that at least some people know about it -- so that means
that some people of every country knew about that, but didn’t raise
complaints. Meaning that the people of the Empire knew what would happen, and
were all right with it regardless.
(Alternatively, propagandist sentiments shut down all dissent and
opposition -- which I WOULD HAVE LOVED TO HAVE SEEN.) Whatever the case, I refuse to believe that
there weren’t certain people in every country in the game that knew what would
happen.
Remember, this is a game that features l’Cie, and
thanks to the framework of Type-0
they’ve been blessed with immortality until the plot says it’s time for them to
die. So given that there are people who
are at least five hundred years old walking around Akademeia -- probably more
than I know at this stage, if my guess that fal’Cie walk among them is true --
then they know that it’s a terrible idea for Rubrum to decide to suddenly take
control of all four crystals, right? So
why didn’t they do anything? Why did no
one in power or no one with knowledge feel the need to speak up besides cryptic
moon-speak?
I ask this because, as it turns out, the queen of
Concordia -- the one assassinated, with the blame thrown onto Class Zero
because reasons -- could actually see the future.
What.
Oh my God.
This game…this game is literally killing me. I can feel my brain tearing in half.
So let me see if I understand this correctly. The queen knew what would happen. She knew, with a reasonable amount of
clarity, everything that would transpire.
If that’s the case, then she knew that someone would try to assassinate
her. And therefore, she knew that her
death would push Concordia into the war.
And therefore, she knew that it would put the Empire that much closer to
the doomsday-bringing unity. And
therefore, she knew that Rubrum would eventually succeed. And therefore, untold thousands of people --
if not millions -- would die.
She knew all of that. And even if she didn’t, at the very least she
could have done something to prevent her assassination, and keep some jackass
from seizing the throne. But she didn’t
do anything. She only gave Class Zero
some cryptic moon-speak, and sent one of her subordinates to give her a ride --
a subordinate who, as a l’Cie, apparently had her Focus be “play escort”. Not turn into a giant dragon and bomb
Pandemonium inside and out -- just take them there and then die.
This story is so bad, it’s veered into the realm
of trolling -- and has actively transcended simple trolling to become pure, concentrated
antagonism. It’s digitized malice. And it just won’t stop.
So. How
about that gameplay?
Well, throughout Pandemonium --
Hold on, I need to go lament being born for a
minute.
Throughout Pandemonium, you receive challenges
from Cid himself. It’s actually a spin
on the “Special Orders” you’ve received throughout the game at that point, i.e.
you can choose to perform certain actions within a time limit to earn bonuses
-- though if you fail one, you lose your character. (Or get a game over; I didn’t fail any of
them, so I wouldn’t know.) Cid’s version
-- “Cid’s Crucible” -- can’t be turned down, however, so the core conceit of
the dungeon is that you’re at the mercy of some asshole that won’t shut the
hell up. The challenges aren’t exactly
strenuous, though; kill all the enemies, win without physical attacks, win
while poisoned, it’s all there. Not
tough, but it mixes up the gameplay a bit.
It’s just too bad that the enemy variety still isn’t a step up. I mean, Pandemonium is some ancient fortress
that was buried in the ocean depths, and yet there are even more Flans for you
to fight. And there are even more Bombs,
and even more dragons; there’s one Behemoth you have to fight to get to the
next area, but it’s a holdover from another area. I was genuinely surprised to see an Iron
Giant, but the excitement peters out with the likelihood that there’s another
one tucked away in a sidequest.
Probably the biggest wrinkle of Pandemonium isn’t
exactly anything that happens during it (though it’s worth noting that you
split into two teams, so you’d better have at least six strong fighters ready),
but what happens at its end: a boss rush.
In a move pulled straight from any number of Mega Man games, you actually fight most of the game’s bosses all
over again in rapid succession. So you
get to relive the memories of cheap-ass bosses with some gimmick that can
two-shot your party, or easy-ass bosses you can cheese to death. (That includes fighting Qator the “Unscathed”
in his high-speed mech yet again.)
Beyond that, there isn’t really that much to
say. The dungeon at large isn’t visually
distinct -- it’s a very red and fuchsia set of ruins -- and while there are a
couple of interesting areas, they aren’t enough to make a massive
difference. The most trying area of
Pandemonium is its take on the microwave hallway in MGS4, only instead of incredible suffering, your members of Class
Zero just drag themselves through a couple of paths and hallways. There’s a reason for the slowdown, but I’ll
have to get to that in the next post. So
let’s go over the final boss.
To be fair, Cid looks a lot better than “I am a
Robot Covered in Walls and Faces” Barthandalus, but he’s still not that
impressive of a final boss -- and most of that ties into the actual fight. As usual, your input and preparation up to
that point don’t really matter; the first half has your drastically-weakened
team up against an avatar of destruction, so naturally you get your ass
kicked. And thanks to the plot, you come back and kick Cid’s ass
so hard that -- surprise -- another boss fight becomes a trifle.
It basically comes down to landing a critical hit
on Cid with each member of Class Zero, then harvesting soul energy as you have
a thousand times before. You can’t die,
and it’s easy to land a decisive hit even with characters like Eight and
Cinque. If you’re feeling optimistic,
you could say that the real final challenge of Type-0 is making it past the boss rush with at least one character
(the others come back to life after a little while). And while the last boss should have REALLY
offered up something more, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t cathartic as all
hell to throw one card at a time with Ace to cut all of his dumbass rants
short.
So props to Type-0
for creating one of the first final bosses you can beat with one hand. Progress!
And so, at long last, Final Fantasy Type-0 comes to an end. Well, granted Class Zero only managed to kill
Cid, and there was no guarantee that that would be enough to defeat the Rursus,
and the world is still in tatters, and Rubrum’s chain of command is still
utterly broken, but the important thing is that the game limps its way towards
its ending. It was one hell of a rough
trip, but at least it’s over.
And then comes the ending.
All right, look.
Words were said in this post and others -- some very scathing, very
hurtful words. It’s a shame that I had
to say what I did, but I’m not taking them back. I stand by them. Type-0 has
some gargantuan problems, and even if I want to like the game, I can’t ignore
those faults just because I really, really want to. There’s just no way around it: despite all
the potential and the promise, the game just isn’t very good. In fact, it’s actually pretty bad.
How do I know this? Well, I sat through the ending. And taking into account everything from the
start of the game to its final minutes -- from the first words of Chapter 8 to
the last words of Type-0 -- things
manage to get EVEN
WORSE. And I’m just sitting
here, thinking to myself: “How could that have happened?”
Yup.
That’ll do it.
There's a statistic out there that claims the vast majority of people don't finish games they start. I forget the exact number.
ReplyDeleteSo it's no real surprise that the ending was like this.
I've heard that statistic as well -- somewhere around 80%, I think. Shocking number, but I can buy it pretty easily; so many games I've dropped...but when it comes to Type-0, it's as if Squeenix didn't finish the game they started either.
ReplyDeleteWell, I guess they technically did. But given how the game actually ends, I kind of wish they didn't. But I'll get to that.
Oh, I will get to that. And the horror. So much horror.
Yeah, it's not unheard of for devs to not finish games they start, either. Except this one is on the shelves. :P
ReplyDeletePfft. Like that's stopped anyone before.
ReplyDeletehttp://static1.gamespot.com/uploads/original/1544/15443861/2732023-289650_screenshots_2014-11-11_00006.jpg