Metal Gear Solid 5 is already a sprawling stealth masterpiece, but less discussed is its FOB multiplayer mode. Players have an opportunity to build Forward Operating Bases, which function as risky but rewarding extensions of their Mother Base. You can invade other player s FOBs and steal their stuff, so long as you can sneak by their guards and defensive gadgetry. Get discovered and that player can enter the fight and try to take you out. Fail completely, and they can invade your FOB at a chance for revenge. If you get in and out undetected, they can t retaliate.
After finishing the campaign, I set out to see if FOB invasions were more than just a novel idea, but in my heart, I knew I was heading out there to make sure my rivals would remember the name Barb: Cosmic Mom.
I m targeting a mid-level Medical Pavilion, my first choice for a reason: it s not guarded by drones, cameras, or IR sensors—at least that I can see. So far, I ve only seen an outfit of ill-equipped guards and myself. Reaching the base core should be a cinch. I take a few steps before an on-screen notification informs me that my rival, The Joy is approaching. I panic.
My first good idea is to climb one of those large pipes and remain there motionless until I win. My second is realizing that this is not a good idea, so I dislodge myself from the pipe and am spotted immediately. My last good idea is to use my immense upper-body strength to hang precariously from the side of the base over the open ocean.
My rival's feet clank on the walkways above. They re sprinting aimlessly, shooting at the sky. My decision to hang from the first floor railing on the edge of their FOB wasn t without reason. I can t be spotted easily from here, and luring guards down to this platform only to pop up and blow them into the ocean with C4 has technically kept me alive and hidden. I m not sure that sending those boys to their watery death qualifies as espionage exactly, but what is stealth, truly? For them, it was a life of indentured servitude or the long sleep. My human and robot hands are clean. This is stealth. I am a stealth master.
I hang off the edge for 20 minutes, listening to The Joy take pot shots at the sky. Magazine after magazine, emptied into nothing. A timer ticks down on-screen. If it gets to zero, I lose. A stealth master can t lose.
I let go and join The Joy s boys.
The next four invasions followed a similar pattern. Perhaps I was selling myself short. Sure, I failed a series of simple level 14 invasions, but maybe I stunted my natural skill and instinct by setting my sights so low. Why not start from the top? I invaded a level 40 platform.
I revisit the climb-a-pipe-and-win plan, but it fails again. A tranquilizer dart hits me from somewhere offscreen and I fall down, which ignites a small quicktime event. The Y-button nearly melts under my thumb and I shake the control stick as my eyelids close in blurry first-person perspective. There s a metaphor here about my enthusiasm.
Sprinting aimlessly only draws more attention. I see pipes, I resist. Somehow I manage to fulton two containers and a guard before my rival, The Leviathan, pops into the game to defend their base. Again, from somewhere offscreen a smoke thing hits me. I continue my get up and run strategy, albeit with a bit more urgency knowing The Leviathan is out there. The smoke follows, a drone shoots from above, everything on screen becomes oversaturated and blurred, and a final tranq knocks me to the ground. My rival appears and fultons me into a wormhole.
After a few more failures on higher-level bases, I give up for the day. But it wasn t my fault, the game is just unfair. If drones outfitted with cameras circle the base, guards can spot you from across the map and fill you with tranqs or lather you with smoke, then I m not to blame, right?
My inability to win is eating away at my confidence. If I can t succeed in a single FOB encounter, what does that say about me? In order to succeed (and to prevent a meltdown) I have to redefine success itself. So naturally, I prey on some brand new players.
Before I tackle my next FOB to prove to the rest of PC Gamer that I'm a Real Gamer, I rearrange my staff to their optimal positions. The process is automated, so it usually means your security unit is emptied out and leveled down in favor of boosting the vital single-player units. NowWhen I search for FOBs with a low-level security unit, there are nothing but low-level, empty bases to invade—MGS5 s own rudimentary form of matchmaking. Convenient.
The next eight invasions all play out the same way: I climb a pipe, dislodge from the pipe, and sneak to the base core, a victory condition. A bunch of screens show me data and tell me I did a good job. Various numbers associated with persistent game stuff and leaderboard information I can t parse beeps and grows. I feel good.
Most of the bases I invade during The Weak Streak still have a default DD emblem. Chances are, they barely started playing the game. I began to project. Maybe these are good folks, working late to support their family of four to fourteen Mother Base recruits. Metal Gear was the one game they bought this year. Imagine: they re pining all day for a few minutes with Big Boss, and the first thing they see upon loading in is a notification that Barb: Cosmic Mom rolled in like a sneaky mean guy, gunked up their junk, and they can t do a damn thing about it.
What monster is this?
I am not a stealth master. Turns out, I was barking up the wrong tree—or, climbing up the wrong pipe. FOB mode is strictly for the bossest bosses, and I m still a clumsy stealth boy. But that I only found real fun by stepping outside of the mode s intended methods of play isn't only because I was bad a tiptoeing (but maybe a little), it s a reflection of the mode s well-intended, but half-baked ideas.
FOB invasions are a novel, but super niche affair. Finding an FOB that poses a fair challenge feels like a crapshoot. There might be low-level bases with a few soldiers that, if alerted, pose a huge threat. On the other hand, there may be a high-level base stocked with no soldiers, but all sorts of gadgetry that's relatively easy to disable or skirt around. And what each base is stocked with resource-wise doesn t seem related to their defenses.
Finding an FOB that poses a fair challenge feels like a crapshoot.
The onus is on the defending player to stock their FOBs with adequate soldiers and defenses, but since they re buried so deep in the single-player game s progression, most bases will be insufficiently defended. Conversely, players who are deep into the FOB mode will have bases that are seemingly impossible to infiltrate. I found it hard to find a base somewhere between the extremes. For the few hardcore FOBbers, I m sure they re happy. For the happy-go-lucky, lackadaisical stealth children of the world, you re best off playing around in the open world or waiting for a more refined take on the mode.
I love the idea of invading a stranger's base and wrecking something they built. There's a teenage vandal sensibility at play, with a real risk of retaliation. But the mode comes in too late during the single-player campaign to support an involved, diverse player base, and customizing your defenses is too restrained for any of it to feel personal or worthwhile. As it stands, FOB invasions are a cool addition that don t harm the rest of MGS5, the implementation just doesn t feel aligned with what s great about the game. None of it feels playful and any small error is severely punished, which may be fair, but expect everyone but the most skilled to jump ship. As a standalone mode it could work, given more nuance in terms of how players personalize their bases and interact. Right now, FOBbin is too inconsistent to recommend.
Hope remains: Incremental updates are coming and MGS5 has yet to launch its fully-featured multiplayer mode. Metal Gear Online, on PC in January 2016, looks to be more traditional in the way it pits teams of players against one another, and from the footage we ve seen so far, it appears to embrace the inventiveness and variety from the single-player campaign. Let's just hope the only way for me to win isn't by picking on inexperienced players.
Tom Francis is a former writer for PC Gamer and current game developer. He's been playing Metal Gear Solid 5: The Phantom Pain and writing up his thoughts on his personal website. We've been enjoying his musings and he agreed to let us share them with you here. You can follow the development of Tom's next game, Heat Signature, at its official site.
Almost every game that lets you take people out lethally or non-lethally presents it as a choice between pragmatism and ethics: killing is easier, but tranqing is nicer. That s true in MGS V too, but it adds something else to that choice that solves a problem I ve had with these games for ages.
The ability to play a game nonlethally lets you adopt that policy as your character s moral code, and that makes your game persona a little more sympathetic. By the same token, it also demonises the act of killing: it s no longer possible to claim it s necessary, because you often have the developer s word that it isn t. To kill is now either the act of a sadistic monster, or an unsatisfying compromise made because you either couldn t or couldn t be bothered to pull off the non-lethal option.
So the ways of playing these games—including my own—boil down to:
1. Do everything nonlethally forever, no matter how difficult or boring it becomes.
2. Kill everyone, playing the role of a psychotic monster who usually clashes with both the story and your own ability to embody your character.
3. Stop caring about the distinction and do a messy mix of both, as your mood or the situation dictates.
It s probably clear from the way I ve phrased these that I don t find any of them entirely satisfactory. Very few games make the purely nonlethal option inherently fun the faint satisfaction of knowing you ve done the right thing is balanced against how boring and time consuming the methods were, how many cool tools you weren t allowed to use, and how utterly fake the whole charade is—you re usually only doing it this way because you have divine knowledge that the world has been architected to make it possible.
Mechanically, I like the third option. I like having a lot of tools. Option 1 makes lethal tools forbidden, and option 2 makes nonlethal tools pointless. But by itself, option 3 doesn t give you any particular reason to use both sets, so it can feel kind of empty.
That s the thing MGS V fixes. With an early upgrade to your binoculars, you can scan every soldier to see how good they are at a variety of different tasks. If they re any good, it s worth taking them out non-lethally, because you can then tie a balloon to them, send them up into the sky, have your colleagues collect them with a passing plane, fly them to the Seychelles, drop them off at an offshore base, persuade them to change sides to your private mercenary corp, then put them in full-time, devotedly loyal employment in the division of your base that their talents best suit.
I ll be honest, this was not my next guess for how games would ultimately fix this problem.
But it does work.
You have to disengage with the moral aspect completely, of course—you re now operating in a pretty grotesque fantasy land where no-one has a will that can t be bent to serve your own. You can shoot a person 7 times in the knees and then make them work in your box-delivery department forever, and they will salute you on sight and thank you if you punch them. You could read it as parody or an ugly dominance fantasy, but I suspect it s just where a series of cool systems ideas led them, and they didn t much mind that it was narratively mad. Luckily, neither do I.
It works because there s now a strong practical reason to use nonlethal tactics for some guards, and lethal for others. This guard has an A in Engineering and this one has a B in Intel, so I ll tranq those two and kill the rest. You don t have to kill the rest, but as in most games it s easier: you have more powerful, more varied, and more satisfying tools to do it, and it eliminates them from the complicated patrol equation: people don t get up from death.
Pure lethal and pure nonlethal are still options, but by fleshing out option 3 with interesting systems, it makes it clear how much less interesting they really are. Fine for an experimental or role-playing playthrough, but monotonous compared to the juice you can get out of that choice if you let it vary situationally.
In other games, the kill or tranq? question asks you to pick one of two possible playthroughs at the start, and it takes a dozen hours to finish enunciating your answer. MGS V lets it become an ongoing debate.
This article was originally posted on pentadact.com.
The Metal Gear Solid series has always been as much about mining the history of movies as actual world events. There are so many allusions and references embedded in the long-running stealth action series, that the possibilities in terms of recommending further reading and watching are almost endless. The recent release of MGS 5: The Phantom Pain represents the end of Metal Gear under its creator Hideo Kojima s stewardship, and the game bows out with an appropriately rich fusion of twisted history and 80s-influenced action movie madness.
Kojima has often gone on record listing the cinematic influences that have been important to him in as he guided MGS through its various incarnations, including classics like The Deer Hunter, Full Metal Jacket, and Heat. It s clear that the series mastermind has been motivated by big films that take on sweeping and transformative moments in history, accompanied by a deep uneasiness with the direction the modern world is heading in.
With all that in mind, in this edition of If you like... I ve selected films and books that echo Metal Gear Solid s fundamental foundations: visual splendor amidst startling violence, the intersection of technology and the body, and the deadly legacy of the Cold War...
John Carpenter s 1981 vision of the Big Apple as a dystopic, maximum security prison shares all the ingredients of a Metal Gear Solid sneaking mission. On the eve of a crucial summit on nuclear weapons, the President of the United States is missing and only one man can save him in time—Snake Plissken. Played with suitable gruffness by Kurt Russell, it s up to the ex-soldier turned heistman to sneak into New York and nab the President plus a crucial audiotape he s carrying.
Beyond providing the obvious inspiration for Snake himself, Carpenter s film also shares a lot in common with another classic fictional world that had a deep influence on Kojima: James Bond. Escape from New York isn t just about a one-eyed, scowling tough guy, it s also about gadgets, ticking time-bomb scenarios, and strange sidekicks picked up along the way. And like Bond, we see that no matter how perilous the problem, it s really all about Snake in the end.
Conceived by Barry Windsor-Smith as a psychologically rich and disturbing origin story for Marvel icon Wolverine, this 1991 arc from Marvel Comics Presents fits neatly into the Metal Gear Solid worldview. It s set in a secret laboratory where scientists are working to create the perfect killing machine out of Logan aka Wolverine. During this process we get insight into the development of not only his fearsome adamantium claws, but also his dark and troubled personality.
In a way that reminds me of The Phantom Pain s vivid and violent introduction, Windsor-Smith s Weapon X presents Wolverine as damaged goods. As with Big Boss, Logan s biggest challenge isn t surviving the medical experimentation so much as rediscovering his humanity and identity. No matter the technology that helped transform him, the biggest question seems to be—is he a man or an animal?
A director long known for his arresting and powerful visual style, Ridley Scott s 2001 action/drama film dealing with the 1993 Battle of Mogadishu has long been pointed to as an obvious touchstone for events in the Metal Gear Solid universe (especially those from The Phantom Pain s predecessor, MGS 4: Guns of the Patriots). Based on an original book of the same name by Mark Bowden, Scott s film traces themes that also surface prominently in The Phantom Pain—loyalty, camaraderie among soldiers, and the blurred lines of life lived in a war zone.
Beyond the thematic similarities, Black Hawk Down is simply a brilliant war film packed with great performances by talented actors. Eric Bana s turn as a cynical but clear-eyed Delta Force operative is particularly moving and acts as a kind of mirror to Josh Hartnett s more idealistic Army Ranger. While the film is a fairly one-sided fantasy about the costs of war, it meshes the personal with the political in a way that very few recent war films have been able to do so effectively.
Metal Gear Solid has always ramped up the drama of weapons technology by returning again and again to giant death machines that threaten world peace. In C.J. Chivers s 2009 book, The Gun, we get a social history of the Cold War s actual deadliest weapon—the AK-47. A longtime NY Times war correspondent and former Marine, Chivers walks his readers through the origins of automatic weapons, their proliferation throughout the world, and their impact on warfare to the present day. And he does all this through the lens of perhaps the most famous gun ever developed, the Kalashnikov.
Exhaustively researched and highly readable, Chivers s book resists tidy conclusions. It works to explain the significance of a weapons technology that has impacted nearly every dimension of contemporary world conflict, from gang warfare to the battlefields of Afghanistan.
Patrick currently works as web editor for Hinterland Studios, which is making The Long Dark. For more installments of If you like... , check out his recommendations for Dead Space, The Witcher, Dishonored, Mass Effect,Skyrim, Fallout 3, Deus Ex, Company of Heroes, STALKER and Her Story fans.
As Tom Francis pointed out last weekend, one of the reasons The Phantom Pain is an enjoyable stealth game is that it's very forgiving of slip-ups. If you're a little careless and draw the attention of a guard, you're given a number of opportunities to wriggle your way out of your mistake.
On the other hand, not everyone is looking for a game that bends over backwards to forgive screw-ups, and I know a lot of people play with reflex mode off, simply because they feel it's too easy. If you're someone looking for more of a challenge in MGS 5, modder JRavens has you covered. The Phantom Pain Hardcore mod turns up the difficulty with a number of tweaks.
First and foremost, enemy hearing and vision has been improve by around 50%, meaning they can detect you at much greater ranges now. I tested this, and it definitely feels like a big change. While creeping up on an enemy checkpoint, I raised the suspicions of a guard while I was crawling, still a good distance off, and partially concealed by a boulder. The distance at which you can be detected is also randomized, meaning you'll never be quite sure how many meters away you need to stay to completely avoid being spotted. Soldiers are now also better at detecting when you've Fulton extracted one of their buddies.
Enemy knockout time has been decreased as well. I didn't really test this one for myself, because after tranquilizing a guard I got bored waiting to see how long it would take him to wake up. Bullet damage, however, I did test, and it does appear bullets hurt a heck of a lot more. I feel like Snake is typically pretty durable, and things only get really dire after long, extended bouts of being shot, but I entered the danger-of-dying zone pretty quickly when some soldiers opened up on me.
You're not the only one more susceptible to bullets. If you call in air support, you best be ready to help your chopper take down enemy soldiers, because it is now highly vulnerable to small arms fire. Can confirm: I called in my chopper (blasting Weird Science, of course) and it immediately began to take damage from a handful of soldiers who weren't even using antiaircraft weapons. Then it blew up.
Soldiers, meanwhile, have had their limb health improved, so don't expect them to fall down unless you put a couple extra rounds in their legs. Speaking of Snake's ammo supply, it's been punished as well, and he can now only carry about half as much as he normally does. And that empty magazine he could throw around to distract guards? It's no longer infinite. You can use it six times and then you'll need to call in a supply drop if you want more.
All of this should provide a more hazardous environment for those of you who want to put your skills to the test, or who at least want to put poor Snake through the wringer. You can find the mod here at Nexus,—keep in mind JRavens is still testing and tweaking it—and there are installation instructions in the description and the download.
Tom Francis is a former writer for PC Gamer and current game developer. He's been playing Metal Gear Solid 5: The Phantom Pain and writing up his thoughts on his personal website. We've been enjoying his musings and he agreed to let us share them with you here. You can follow the development of Tom's next game, Heat Signature, at its official site.
If you have keen eyesight, you might have noticed that the person in my screenshots is not straggly-bearded horned male Venom Boss Big Punished Ahab Snake. She s Amber Fox, a low level support officer I think I extracted on an early mission [update: Andy tells me you get her by importing your Ground Zeroes save], along with another Fox with the same tattoo who might be her brother. She s not a story character, just one of hundreds of recruits I have milling around my base.
Once you unlock the combat bit of your base, you can choose to play as anyone you station there instead of Big Venom Punished Ahab. This is bizarre for many reasons.
1. It must have been a huge amount of work to support something that there is little practical reason to do. The recruits mostly differ from Ahab Venom by lacking some of his abilities, and their own special traits often just restore one of them. Only two of my hundreds of recruits are women, and yet they ve modeled a female-tailored version of every outfit Punished Big can wear. She has her own voice acting for common commands interactions like interrogating guards, and presumably the male recruits do too.
2. And yet, it s also a little shoddy. Not in any ways that matter at all to me, but it creates all these little contradictions and narrative bugs that you would think a highly polished game like this would hate to ship. Everyone keeps calling you by the wrong name, some cut-scenes show your character but people treat you like Boss, others replace you with Boss, others won t trigger unless you switch back to Boss. None of that is a problem for me, I m just really surprised they were OK with it.
3. And it seems totally at odds with a game that often seems determined to tell a very specific character-driven story. It has a long and expensively produced intro to set up who you are in this world, and why you re doing this, then also puts in loads of work to let you not be that person.
Anyway, I m absolutely delighted that they did it despite all of this. I hate playing as grizzled old men in general, and the ridiculous miscellany of costume-shop accessories on Snake Boss s face made it hard to forget: You re playing Hideo Kojima s alternatingly extremely silly and extremely self-serious fantasy.
Amber Fox just looks cool. It s nice to be a woman in what is not only typically a man s role, but in this case actually is a specific man s role. I like when people call her Boss. I ret-con that she really was just some random recruit, given one field op to test out the new combat unit idea, and pulled it off so spectacularly that she became the organisation s primary operative, and now everyone s just kind of in awe of this very sensible, very practical, mysterious woman who just showed up and killed it. It made stories like this one all the more exciting for me, because I wasn t playing as some superhuman legend, I was just a new recruit who had to nearly break herself to get the job done, and came out bleeding and gasping but triumphant.
This was the last game I expected to let me write my own story.
This article was originally posted on pentadact.com.
It's never mentioned in the game, but Metal Gear Solid 5: The Phantom Pain has a hidden 'karma' system that, over time, alters Venom Snake's appearance. Your Demon Level is determined by your play style, with negative actions—killing people, harming animals, developing nuclear weapons, generally being a jerk—earning you Demon Points, which increase the size of the shrapnel 'horn' on Snake's head.
There are three Demon levels. There's the regular horn (pictured) that Snake starts out with. Then there's a longer one that grows in a cut-scene after earning 20,000 Demon Points. Then, if you manage to reach 50,000 Demon Points, the horn will grow even longer, and Snake will be permanently covered in blood.
Don't worry, though: you can lower your Demon level through positive actions like extracting animals, earning certain achievements, extracting child soldiers, or visiting Mother Base's zoo. Do enough nice things and Snake's horn will shrink again, and the blood will be washed away. You can raise or lower your Demon level as many times as you like, but it's purely aesthetic. You can't stab people with the horn, sadly.
For a comprehensive list of positive and negative Demon Point actions, and more details about the system, check out AlxCj's guide on GameFAQs.
Tom Francis is a former writer for PC Gamer and current game developer. He's been playing Metal Gear Solid 5: The Phantom Pain and writing up his thoughts on his personal website. We've been enjoying his musings and he agreed to let us share them with you here. You can follow the development of Tom's next game, Heat Signature, at its official site.
Being an outsider to the Metal Gear series, I was only cautiously optimistic about V. All I heard about the last one was that it had 90-minute cut-scenes. I watched enough of one of them on YouTube to determine that it was… not my cup of tea. Of V, I d seen some fun stuff in videos, but I was half-assuming the story would barge in and ruin it.
Well, the story does barge in. But only for the intro and a few brief intrusions, spread out over the vast, ridiculous amount of time I ve played the game for so far—at least thirty hours, I think. That s a ridiculously tiny fraction, and the rest is extraordinarily good.
So many things about it are surprising or different or interesting and I want to write about all of them. So I think I ll do that, one post at a time, starting with this:
Outside of those few scripted intrusions, I ve only actually died a handful of times in those thirty hours. The game has an enormous failure spectrum—I mentioned these in respect to Invisible Inc, but here s the gist:
When you can fail at something but still carry on playing, I call the range of states between perfect success and total failure a failure spectrum .
MGS V has most of the stealth genre s most generous failsafes, plus an incredibly generous one of its own inserted at the crucial moment—Reflex Mode. The result is something like this:
If a guard sees you, you get an awareness indicator showing you where they are. If you reduce your visibility, that goes away completely and the guard won t even investigate.
If you stay in sight and/or make yourself more visible, the guard will very, very slowly come over to investigate. Even then, this alerts no-one else and doesn t count against you in any score or performance metrics, and you don t even have to move: going prone and using a hide button makes you damn nearly invisible—I ve had a guard stood 2 feet from me shining a torch directly on my body without spotting me in that mode.
If they DO definitively see you and recognise you as an intruder, Reflex Mode puts the world in slowmo and you get a huuuuuuuuge amount of time to do something about it. Your view is snapped to the person who saw you, the yelp of recognition they make seems to be inaudible to other guards, and if you shoot them in the head with a quiet weapon (you start with two) in this ample time, no alert is triggered.
If you fail to take them out in this time, or someone else sees them die, the surviving guard will yell. Others in earshot will be alerted, but no-one beyond that at this stage. Your default weapon is rapid fire, accurate and silenced, and if you can take out everyone who heard before they have a chance to radio, the alert is contained.
Even if you do give them time to radio, it will do nothing if you ve already taken out their communications equipment.
Even if they manage to radio for reinforcements, it s easy to run away and they won t give chase.
Even if you don t run away, it s quite possible to kill everyone without taking a hit.
Even if you take a hit, your health regenerates for free.
Even if you get hit a LOT—even if you get hit by a mortar—you only go into a wounded state that restricts your movement but still gives you a chance to take everyone out.
If you fuck that up, yeah, you re dead.
Listing it like that makes it sound absurd, but I really think this is one of the main reasons I and so many people end up having such a great time. Moving to these messier states creates stories of panic and improvisation, instead of frustrating game-overs. It s the same reason it works in Invisible Inc [the following is a quote from Tom's Invisible Inc. piece]:
A big failure spectrum is good because a lot of the most emotional moments in a game happen on the cusp of failure. If you were this close to being seen, your escape is exhilarating. But if failure is a game over screen, spending a lot of time on the cusp of failure means a lot of game over screens. Each one interrupts your immersion and ends your investment in this current run. It pulls you out of the game, and you find yourself in a menu, then at a checkpoint or a savegame. Mentally acclimatising to how much of your story has been lost forces you to disengage from it, and you have to build up all that immersion again from scratch.
If failure isn t game over, it s still nail-biting when to come close to it. And when you do slip over the threshold, it s just another development in the story you re creating and living through.
This article was originally posted on pentadact.com.
Could Metal Gear Solid 5 be Konami's final big-budget game? Eurogamer reports that the publisher is stripping back AAA development on everything except Pro Evolution Soccer.
Meanwhile French site Gameblog mentions that worldwide technology director Julien Merceron has left the company over rumoured unhappiness at Konami's move toward mobile games.
Though Konami insisted months ago that it wants to pursue multi-platform development, Metal Gear Solid 5 composer Rika Muranaka has since tweeted about the report saying "Yes....it's pretty sad...now, I can't write music to any of AAA games..well, I need to find another AAA game company".
Earlier this year Kojima and Del Toro's Silent Hills game was cancelled, and the PT prototype pulled from the PS4 online store. Kojima's name vanished from Metal Gear Solid 5 marketing materials and box art.
While rumours of a rift between Konami and Kojima remain purely speculative, it's been a bumpy year for the company. If Konami choose to bow out of big-budget game development now, Metal Gear Solid 5 serves as a resounding mic drop. It's one of the best games of the year, and probably one of the best stealth games ever. If the reports are true, what will happen to Metal Gear and Silent Hill?
It was inevitable Metal Gear Solid V would contain secrets, but unlike previous instalments we can readily datamine them with our trusty PCs. I feel like that's ruining the fun a bit, but this particular secret seems otherwise impossible to access if the theories are true. That's a shame, because it's massive and oddly beautiful. If you want to avoid spoilers, do not continue reading.
The video embedded below was uploaded to YouTube by . Watch, and you'll witness a ceremony at the Mother Base celebrating worldwide nuclear disarmament. You see, players can build nukes in Metal Gear Solid, provided they've progressed far enough and have the right materials. They're mainly used against other players, and they're quite sought after.
Theory has it that the below cutscene can only be triggered when there are no more nukes left in the game. That means every single player needs to dispose of their nukes. In other words: total nuclear disarmament.
So assuming the theories are true, it will take every single player in the world to agree that nuclear war is not the answer. Let's see how that works out.
Thanks, Kotaku.
With 15 hours spent on Metal Gear Solid: The Phantom Pain, I'm sitting at a whopping 6% complete, which tells me I'd need a Fulton balloon the size of the Hindenburg to lift all the content out of this game. Naturally, I'm forced to ask the obvious question: besides a couple hundred hours of stealth, combat, base management, and story beats I can't even begin to understand, what else is there to do?
I consider myself something of an expert in playing games without really playing them. Ignoring all the stuff you're supposed to be doing in favor of finding something else is my jam. I spent ten weeks avoiding adventure in Skyrim (and one year, played Santa), I hitchhiked through GTA 5 Online, and I built a metropolis in Cities: Skylines but only left room for a single house so I could spy on the family. With its huge open world, I figured I could easily spend an evening playing Phantom Pain, not do anything useful or mission-related, and still have fun.
After my chopper dropped me off to the usual strains of "Weird Science," I set a distant waypoint and headed toward it. Getting to any given spot on the map is hard, of course: if you've played you know how the mountains restrict most of your travel to keep you on or near the road, and to avoid outposts you usually have to de-horse and stealth past. Apart from encountering a single truck, however, nothing else happened on the road in over an hour of riding and walking. Considering I recently played Mad Max, where you can't drive a few yards without running into random drivers, friendly wastelanders, or glimpses of something potentially interesting on the horizon, Phantom Pain's open world was already feeling a little empty.
I left the road whenever I could to scour the landscape for something else to do. I collected the flowers I saw, which is fun in that it makes a cool 'schweep' noise but not super-cool because I don't personally get to do any crafting with them. I found one or two diamonds. I tested my horse to see if he could hear me tell him to poop from really far away, and learned that he can. What a good horse! I chased down some donkeys, as part of the effort to remove animals from the warzone, despite the fact that there only seems to be war in the zone when I'm around. Rather than use my dart gun, which feels like the typical misson-based tool for animal capture, I instead tried riding over them with my horse to stun them. It's harder, but it works, though I wouldn't really call it a fun activity. I'd call it 'unnecessarily being a jerk to donkeys'.
I found almost no buildings or houses on the map that aren't part of an enemy camp or outpost, which is disappointing. What's more enjoyable than rooting around in dwellings and homes and stealing everything you can carry and smashing everything else? I found one little hut a good distance from anything else, so I popped in to investigate. Inside the tiny hut was a chair and a wooden box. A mystery box in an abandoned house? Score! Wait. Deduct that score. The box wouldn't open. I even shot the clasp. In my frustration, I emptied a clip into the chair. It didn't break or splinter. Come on, video game! You can't even give me the satisfaction of furniture destruction?
We're not looking so great on environmental storytelling, either. When there aren't big, exciting things happening, a little something in the scenery can give a glimpse of a larger world, the history of a place. During a couple hours of exploring I came upon one downed helicopter, four or five burned out trucks, and a single tire in the road.
It doesn't really paint a picture. Maybe throw in some vultures dining on a charred corpse or a skeletal hand clutching a locket. I'd even settle for some of video games' finest heavy-handed graffiti at this point. This is a country so supposedly warn-torn that every single non-combatant has fled and donkeys need to be trampled into unconsciousness and airlifted out... but I'm just not feeling it.
Speaking of which, I think it's disappointing that there seem to be no civilians at all. Nobody stayed behind? Not even one farmer who refused to leave behind his mystery box and his invulnerable chair? I guess there are only two kinds of NPCs in Phantom Pain: those who will kill you on sight and those who love you so much they're thrilled to be choked unconscious and wedgied into the heavens. I'm not asking for much, I just want someone besides donkeys to run over with my horse.
I even started disliking one of the few dynamic events the game has. Sandstorms that randomly arrive during an infiltration are great, sometimes blowing in just in time to cover an escape, sometimes screwing up a well-planned attack. Sandstorms that arrive while you're riding around doing nothing are not fun at all, since you basically just have to wait for them to pass before you can resume doing nothing. Also, don't try to extract stunned donkeys during a sandstorm. They don't make it.
Later, I came across a massive area filled with ruins. After exploring and climbing everything, and finding absolutely nothing, I figured it was probably a stage for a story encounter I haven't reached yet (this has been confirmed for me). I also realized it probably wouldn't have been that hard for the developers to put a diamond or a skeleton or a bullet-proof chair or something up on those damn ruins, just to reward any proactive snoops for exploring the map ahead of schedule.
After spending a good while fruitlessly Lara Crofting around the ruins, I decided to call it quits. There's just nothing to do in this game besides enjoying dozens and dozens of hours of missions, side-ops, stealth, combat, tension, destruction, base-building, resource management, and mystery.
Not a damn thing.