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[farolero-posting]

What the Solstice ending brings to the themes of OneShot

(A.K.A: Why I think Solstice is kinda cool but instead of giving a normal answer I just type like 2k words)

While I think that a reasonable amount of people value the additional content you can uncover by playing again, I'm also aware that other people have their reservation or even dislike it. Despite that, I think there is a lot of value on what it brings to the story, how it gives a new view to some elements from the base game, and the way it is a response to your "abilities" as a player and your motivation to do those things in a way that speaks to the way people approach stories. With that in mind, I wanna present to you why I think Solstice adds to the overall story, and how in fact "changing" the base themes is coherent for this story, too.

Needless to say, I WILL discuss OneShot spoilers in depth, so give the game a try on your own to get the most out of the experience, but otherwise, keep reading! Now let's get into the real thing.

When you think about what OneShot’s main theme is, the most likely answer is that there is only one opportunity in life. This means that your actions have consequences, and that some actions cannot be undone. From the beginning, the game sets a stage where you, as a player, are responsible for keeping Niko, this child given the role of savior, safe. Going into the game without prior knowledge means that you’re likely to be cautious about your actions, the choices you make, even if small, and your efforts are focused on being successful with the one chance you get.

You soon find out that the world Niko is in is slowly, but relentlessly, decaying, which has made many of the people in this world give up their hope of salvation, and are hanging on by a thread that is getting thinner as time goes by. The quest begins to shift from “doing what you have to do and creating optimal conditions” to “trying to do your best, knowing that some things are out of your control”. Because it turns out that Niko and you are late. The environment has been affected in irreversible ways, some areas are abandoned and others are unreachable by normal means (even Niko themself cannot backtrack), and even if one could place the Sun at the top, the other problems will not be solved, even if the presence of the Sun is helpful. It’s even possible that you have lost your chances to complete certain missions, such as getting the necessary supplies to replant the sacred kernel. 

These are all factors that impact the way this chance you’re given plays out. And, in the end, the manifestation of these externally imposed limitations becomes clear, as Niko and you reach the tower, and are presented with the final choice. Whatever you choose ends up being a failure, either for Niko’s quest in this world, or your quest of making sure Niko leaves safely. Your one shot means that you will only get one of these outcomes. and will have to give up the other. It is the biggest exhibit of consequences, and many people can attest to their own difficulties making this choice.

OneShot in the end, becomes a lesson on sacrifices, moral choices, and the limitations of what a person has the chance to do, knowing the consequences of their actions. It’s a heavy theme, and one the story builds up along the journey with the different characters Niko and you meet. Some of them believe letting a natural death occur is the most merciful option, others believe the Sun will make the world a better place, and some believe it is worth returning the sun, even if it’s not a permanent fix. There is no certain truth, no solution that doesn’t come with its drawbacks, and no margin for error.

And then Solstice arrives… shaking the initial themes. 

Well, it doesn’t come out of nowhere. That would not be true. OneShot is most often known and praised for its 4th wall breaking features, and the puzzles that go outside of the game window itself. The player of the game is an active part, known as the god of the world they take Niko through. This is a story device that connects you to Niko and to the world itself, and places the responsibility to care for both of them on your shoulders. It makes the experience more immersive and seeks to convince you, for a moment, that you’re not just an invisible hand controlling things, but someone that actually interacts with a world that responds to you.

In a way, one could look at the reset mechanic from a purely practical lens: if you pay for a game, you deserve a chance to replay it, since it is your property. It won’t hurt to relive the same experience again because you will know you’re just looking at what was already coded into the story, and you would just be looking at it again out of personal interest. You could take the original message at heart and never pick up the game again, leaving questions unanswered and some decisions never made, but�� if you do want to relive the story again, or maybe see if you can try the other ending, the option needs to exist.

And you have not stopped being an active part of how the game works, even after the ending. So, when you look for a way to reset it, what you find is a letter instead, written by someone who seems to be the very creator of the game. And he begs you to consider the option, if it is within your possibilities, like a brand new puzzle for you to solve and… maybe save this world the creator crafted for you. It makes sense that the game places an in-universe message like this, it keeps the immersive theme.

But… one could argue that allowing resets breaks the feeling that some experiences can only be done once. Niko realizes they know a few things that they don’t remember learning. The Entity can tell that activating NG+ is not something that was supposed to happen according to its own protocol, and the restriction it imposed. Which means that this experience is never the same. But it also means that the game is responding to your actions, in a way that indicates that the original suspension of disbelief that you’re a god making choices for a living world can still be made. It also means that the game acknowledges its nature as a program that you’re in control of, and Solstice definitely makes this aspect more blatant, if you choose to take that path.

When OneShot presents itself, it seems that everything within it is equally real, and that you’re roleplaying as some kind of actual deity… but something looms in the shadows. The way decay is presented as squares, the way the paths seem lined up perfectly for a story, the way there seems to be a protocol to follow, that only the Entity acknowledges, shows that this game may be aware of how You are actually viewing it, from a screen in your computer. The game isn’t a real world, it’s just a program you can turn on and off at will.

And this makes even more sense once we have the added context that the Solstice route provides, since it outright confirms this suspicion. Prototype makes Niko aware of the way we have been looking at their world since the beginning, destabilizing the perception they had of their current mission, and the role you play in it, while also making you aware as a player that Niko is not part of this simulation at all. Later on, Cedric explains that the place Niko is trapped in was made to be a facsimile of their dying world, in hopes that there could be proof of their existence after the destruction of said world, and that he and his siblings are the only ones aware of the previous world existing. This part is important, because it gives us an in-universe reason for this world to exist… that brings new concepts into the main theme of the game, “one chance”.

Why would… why would you create a world like… this? [...] Why would you make a world that's doomed from the beginning? …why do you keep bringing me back to it? Niko, talking to the player during the Solstice run

Niko presents an interesting question, not just about their current situation, but also the intent that is implied in the kind of story that OneShot is. It is one thing to be presented with a scenario where people try their best to respond to their circumstances, and be presented with choices that require sacrifice. It is a different one to think that someone willed this to happen, and that Niko has been put in this scenario… that is within your control. Because you’re the one that started the program, and you’re the one that brought them back. And then the events of Solstice create an even more dangerous situation, as the protocol is broken and, most importantly, as the Entity representing the game itself reacts to Niko’s distress.

Here is where the context of the old/real world becomes crucial, because it shows how a scenario like this could be created, not by the will of a detached writer, but different parties with their own motivations and struggles. Because it turns out that the second chance that the people from the old world were looking for didn’t go as planned, of course, we know this. The original choice in the end of OneShot wasn’t intended by the in-universe creators, and yet in a way it still resonates with the way people were divided after the old Sun died. This world, made with the memories of people who lived in a world that would certainly end within their time, is also manifesting that same thing.

What is the point of making a story like OneShot, where this world can be saved, if not to give it a second chance? And what are you as a player doing, by going out of your way to do everything again? As I said, it has the plus side that the game responds to your actions outside of it, but now it adds another layer of it: your motivations to be proactive, may have something in common with the motivation that led to the creation of the game in the first place, at least from the perspective of the characters that are affected by this.

As we can see Solstice recontextualizes the story and provides an explanation for how the game itself comes to be aware of how we see it. But the point of Solstice is that it is alive, in a way. It was created with an intent to share a story, as a means for people to be remembered beyond their time. It’s meant to cause an impression on the person receiving this story. And, as we have established before, the way it is set up treats the player as an active participant in the story, someone who has an influence that is distinct from that of everyone else. The story impacts us, and in a similar way we impact it with our attachment to it, with our actions to do more than what it limited itself to present you with.

Something else funny and interesting happens too… you may realize that the base game doesn’t offer that much in the realm of consequential choices, besides the ending. Your biggest impact is how you treat Niko, and the connection you make with them. They’ll ask about your life beyond the game, look for comfort, and react to both your good and bad ideas. It doesn’t change how much you save the world, but it shapes who you are to Niko, and changes their experience too. You treat them like a good friend, listen to them… you tame them. 

Which is the other big theme of OneShot. Taming, in the original Little Prince, is a concept to explain the way people get attached to someone else, and how the bond formed with someone else changes people fundamentally, and makes the tamed individual distinct from everyone else. In OneShot, it refers to the way in which robots gain sentience after forming bonds with people, after being treated as people with their own thoughts and will, allowing them to act beyond their programming. And in the context of a story, it is equivalent to the way the audience takes the story as real, and sees the characters within as people whose actions are motivated by personal motivations and goals, rather than commanded by the writer, even when we know that their nature is fictional.

We develop this sort of relationship with Niko, and through their experiences, we also begin to develop this relationship with the other residents of this world, who begin to make new decisions that make sense for them as characters, in a context that wasn’t predicted by the story itself. 

And we, in turn, are the ones constantly interacting with this Entity, the game itself. We get to see the puzzles in which it tries to make it clear that it can do a lot outside of the window itself. We can see the way it attempts to keep us from making decisions that go against parts of its programming, despite the contradictions these actions create. OneShot is a story that didn’t want to put Niko through all of this, that didn’t want to repeat the suffering that brought it into existence, but who doomed itself when it tried to manifest its sentience. The World Machine tries to break the immersion, tries to show you its flaws, and we instead recognize personhood within.

Without Solstice, this sort of relationship never becomes clear, and it never gets the chance to evolve. Hell, one could even say that challenging the initial theme of “one chance”, by proposing that we can do something better this time IS the perfect way to establish a conversation that leads to change, that sets the story apart from others. And in the end, once the run is completed, the efforts done by you as a player, Niko, and everyone else pays off, giving you a more satisfying ending. The message that this sends is that, while some situations are out of our control and we must be careful with the consequences of our actions, we will never achieve change if we don’t act outside of the margins, and that, when we do this, we can provide a second chance.

Final words:

In conclusion… while I can understand that Solstice doesn’t hit everyone the same way, and that it has its limitations in execution (especially if spoiled), it’s a solid continuation. It takes some of the themes present in the initial game, and then proceeds to converse with them, using its resources as a game to create an immersive experience, and reward the player for being proactive. I believe that’s worth valuing, and serves to reflect on the way people interact with stories in personal ways, making them gain a place in their hearts.