
My first RPG ever was Final Fantasy VIII. A classmate handed me his copy at lunch one day. “Here, I think you’ll like this,” he said. And boy, did I ever. I played it through in one breathless gulp, and dove into FFVII right on its heels. I lost myself in those games. We’re talking weeks of strategizing and exploring. I made grinding guides, okay — color-coded sheets of graph paper compiling the amounts of mats necessary to upgrade all my weapons, then mapping a strategic tour of the world to gather what I needed in the most efficient way possible. Clearly, I was the coolest kid in school.
That was twelve years ago. I have not played another Final Fantasy title since. So when I popped in the Final Fantasy III cartridge last week, I was more than a little excited. After a few weeks of puzzles and platformers, I was eager for an immersive story to jump into. My imagination was primed and ready for capture.
But that’s not what happened at all.
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