In hindsight, it kind of sucks. And when thinking back to it from a narrative point of view (I’m a screenwriter, so these kinds of things weigh on my mind way more than they should), I should have chosen one of the alternatives; a decision for the greater good would have been more fitting for my character. But in the moment, I simply couldn’t. The rationality of my brain took control and I knew that if I wanted to attain everything that I still had remaining in the game, I had to be selfish. Shame, really.

Stop saying “ultimately”!

Grand Theft Auto IV. One of the few games I remember presenting decisions with neither choice rewarding nor condemning. Several times throughout the game, you were given an opportunity to murder an NPC whose fate had no bearing in subsequent gameplay.

Indeed, there were several optional executions that presented you with additional trinkets such as missions and encounters, many hours later, but what alienated me during my first time experiencing the game was the fact that the majority of decisions gave me nothing.

The finest example of this is the prologue to the endgame. (Spoilers, der.) Niko Bellic, the protagonist, has come to America. As you learn throughout the plot, he’s come for one reason only: Revenge. The entire game is fueled by this. Niko’s incentive to travel through Liberty City’s underworld and engage in these nasty odd-jobs is the hope that his employers would help him track down the man that betrayed him and his comrades ten years earlier. And alas, twenty-five hours later, Niko finally finds this man on his knees, hands tied behind him with Niko’s gun at his forehead.

By this time, you and Niko have squared off with many more shady characters, so you find that this isn’t all you have on your plate. More vendettas have been sworn, and there are places to be after this, but before you leave there’s this decision to make.

I spared the man my first time playing, and found myself watching the credits roll later that night, but what lingered in the back of my head was how there wasn’t any sort of pat on the back for allowing this drug addled war veteran live the rest of his days in a guilt prison. Apart from in-game dialog acknowledging what I did, no achievement notice popped up, and I didn’t get any wealthier. I even reloaded the save and killed him for the sake of experimenting, and again I found that there was no “right” choice.

After viewing the video you posted, that meaning of that segment has been much more articulated for me. I feel a closer appreciation for what that game presented; an opportunity for me to speak to myself about who I am and what I would do.

It’s just something that came to mind.

Then I felt like crap.