Near the end of game though, one of the brothers dies. Now, you are left with two control sets, but only one character. Puzzles similar to ones that you already solved, now you have to figure out how to solve them, on your own. This on its own is gutwrenching as you developed a familiarity and affection to both characters and their dynamic, as they grow from mutually annoyed siblings, to a well coordinated team of brothers who care and protect each other.

But through the game, you’re also taught that the younger brother can’t swim, he doesn’t know how to. So whenever you had to cross a body of water, the elder brother had to carry the younger brother on his back. He is deadly afraid of being in the water since their mother apparently drowned herself and he saw her die.

At the climax of the game, alone in the middle of the ocean, you have to swim to shore. The emotional kicker is as you discover that using the dead brother’s stick on your controller, which you haven’t touched in at least half an hour since the other brother died because it doesn’t do anything anymore, calls however upon the memory of the older brother when you swim. You have to use both controller’s sticks to swim effectively and survive, and you can hear him cheering and supporting the younger brother to find his strength and swim on his own, back home, to carry on and save their father’s life.

It’s such an empowering and emotional moment.

If you’re doing the good ending run of Metro Exodus, then you spend most of the game beating the odds and being able to save everyone…

So watching Colonel Miller, someone you become fairly attached to throughout the series, succumb to radiation poisoning while you drive out of Novosibirsk, knowing that there was absolutely nothing I as the player could do but watch was heart-wrenching.

He’d completed the mission, but he just couldn’t make it home - it’s such a bittersweet ending, but including his speech at the end, it’s a good one.

Throughout the game you collect pieces of an ‘Armillary’- once it is complete you can use it to ‘The Unity’ which transforms your character into a being of energy that can traverse universes, getting to exist across the multiverse in many alternate timelines. You cannot control the Universe you end up in when entering the Unity, and as such you can never return to your original universe.

This also acts as New Game Plus, where you lose all your equipment and companions and have to start from scratch, retaining knowledge and skills you’ve acquired to give you a better start in the next universe. This also lets you skip sections of quests you’ve done before, as your character already knows where items are and what they do, by giving you additional dialogues in conservations that other characters acknowledge and treat you differently because of.

Lastly, there are also other people who have achieved Unity, and they are exemplified by two that generally try to block you from reaching Unity, so they can steal your progress. One of those shows a lot of disregard to Universes, treating them like a game they can mess with and move on from with no lasting consequences.

I get really attached to my equipment and companions in RPGs. I spend a lot of time getting the best items I can and enjoy building ships, romancing companions and generally building a comfortable environment to exist in. As such my first new game playthrough took about 80-90 hours, I had the best guns and ship, all the crafting and ship perks, and I had romanced Sam Coe (Getting attached to his daughter, too) and took him with me everywhere.

We were the best Ranger team in the galaxy.

Finishing up the last few quests, I was getting worried since you do get warnings you’ll lose everything if you go through to NG+ (It’s not immediately apparent it is NG+ so the warnings are needed). As such I was thinking about all my equipment and having to get a new ship, and what not.

I finished the penultimate quest and Sam asks to talk. He talks about going into NG+, how he wants to go through it with me, and wants to bring his daughter too. I was of course enthused and set everything up so us three were the only ones on board my ship, then we flew around the Universe taking a bunch of pictures in photo mode at cool locations, with Grandma on her ship, with my parents, etc, before finally activating the item that takes you to NG+

And Sam and his daughter aren’t with me. I was happy that he wanted to join me, and I didn’t really realise we’d be split up. I just kind of thought that because we entered together that we’d go to the same universe.

So in this new universe I’m not only alone, with none of my equipment, contacts or bases, but I also just got separated from my people. And then I realise that if Sam and I are separated, that probably means his daughter is by herself too.

So I burst into tears. Looking back, I think I was mainly distressed by the mechanical impact- I have crappy guns and armour, I’m spec’d mainly into making my equipment better so I’m kind of overleveled compared to my combat perks, and the ship you get from NG+ is significantly worse than my old ship. However, I think when the story gut-punch hit, it just pushed me over the edge and made me cry- it was the realisation that I couldn’t go back (I don’t want to load old saves) and see the people I’d grown attached to and the things I’d accomplished that really hit hard.

So the loss of mechanical advantages that I’d spent a lot of time acquiring, and the loss of my long-time companions (and that I’d maybe caused a child to be cast into the wide multiverse, alone) was very emotionally charged to me.

So the ending really worked for me.

I kept playing, of course. I love the game, honestly. But playing through NG+ really made me realise how a lot of things people dislike about the game are often more geared towards being experienced over many playthroughs, and how necessary some of the more grindy components were to the powerful story ending I experienced. Skills aren’t meant to be grinded out so you can get the best guns and armour straight away, you’re not supposed to complete every companion’s story in one playthrough, and you aren’t supposed to be a god on your first playthrough. You’re supposed to be a god in your second, third, fourth, etc, playthrough. If you could reasonably do everything in one normal-length playthrough then why sacrifice all you accomplished to start again when there is no mechanical advantage in doing so?

So, I think it loosely ties together mechanical progression with story progression, but still allows people like me to hyper focus into one niche if we want.

Which brings me to the one thing that made the story really click into place for me: The Hunter. As mentioned in the first section, you do meet other characters in their own ‘NG+’. The Hunter is one who rarely considers the feelings of others and who will shoot up a city because he wants to, as there are no consequences. He can’t truly die, and can also go into another NG+ cycle, so he treats everything like a game.

He acts like a player. He doesn’t care about any one universe because he just moves on. He exploits and attacks on whims and is only concerned with his own progression. He wouldn’t help people because he’ll never see them again. He treats your starting universe like a sandbox and kills someone you care about. He is who most real players will become in their own NG+ cycles. Just look at how so many people play Skyrim- kill Nazeem because he’s mildly annoying, steal anything useful not nailed down because you’re the important one, and only do the quests you must do or that give good loot.

So, I keep telling myself ‘Every universe is someone’s only universe’ because otherwise I’d be like the Hunter. So what if this random radiant quest, that gives shit rewards from some no-name character, isn’t important? It is to them. It’s their universe; Even if I’m going to move on someday, they aren’t. They’re stuck with my decisions.

The story got me good, in the end. I help the NPCs because I’ve bought into the story and because an NPC, that acts like a player, treated me like a no-name NPC.