[audio:http://ready-up.net/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/Last-End.mp3]
Every year I return to Termina. There’s just something about the world’s inhabitants that transfixes me so much more than any other routine-driven game narrative. Travelling through Yokosuka with Ryo Hazuki comes close, but venturing through Cyrodil or The Wasteland hit nowhere near the mark.
While other visitors claim the Groundhog Day-esque factor puts them off, I find it endearing. These are the three most significant days in Termina’s history – how could I not want to be a part of it repeatedly? How could I not want to see how my efforts change the lives and stories of characters I care about?
When I recollect my visits to Termina, one character’s story in particular always sticks with me most – that of Anju’s wheelchair-ridden grandmother. She wiles away her time in the back room of the Stock Pott Inn, reading by the light of the fire. She keeps mistaking me for “Tortus”, most likely her son. Her warmth is touching – there is nothing she likes more than helping you pass the time with a story. She is also one of the few inhabitants who seem to realise what is going on in the world around her.
She writes in her diary of how unbearable it is to leave her lifelong home for Romani Ranch to take refuge from the falling moon. It’s heartbreaking having her exclaim “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a picnic at Romani Ranch”. She doesn’t want to break it to me.
In the final hours of Clock Town’s existence, the tone changes dramatically. Despite an evacuation warning for the residents of Clock Town, the Carnival of Time goes ahead. The ground shakes violently and an uncontrollable feeling of dread kicks in. The Clock Tower’s bell sends ghostly echoes across all of Termina, counting down to oblivion. Everyone seems to fall mute, staring at the sky, paralysed. These last six hours of the three day cycle showcase the overwhelming sense of hopelessness that the residents of Termina are experiencing. The ominous “Last End” will forever be ingrained in my mind as the overture to the end of the world.
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