The first time I booted up Tale Tale Fantasy, I knew it was going to be bad. But not this bad. I wasn't expecting much—maybe a half-baked attempt at a classic MMO—but what I got was a digital wasteland, a game so broken it made me question my life choices.
No NPCs. No quests. No players. Just me, dropped into the middle of nowhere with no direction, no purpose.
>> System update. All previous progress erased. Start afresh!
I rolled my eyes. "Oh, fuck off already."
The emptiness seemed almost deliberate, as if the developers had tried to create some kind of lore around it. But how could an MMO have no NPCs, no quests? It was like they hadn't even tried.
I wandered around, trying to find something—anything—that would give me a clue as to what I was supposed to do. Eventually, I found a small patch of grass and sat down, figuring it was time to log out. But just as I was about to, a message popped up:
>> New update available. Install now?
I sighed. "How many updates do you even need?"
I clicked "Yes," and waited another 30 minutes for it to install. When I logged back in, the world was still empty. But then, I noticed something—a small icon in the corner of my vision. Curious, I clicked it, and a menu appeared with a single option:
>> Summon NPC.
I selected it, and a holographic NPC materialized in front of me. He looked generic, like something out of a pre-made asset pack.
"Hello," he said in the most lifeless monotone I'd ever heard.
"Wow, riveting," I muttered.
I tried talking to him or rather it, hoping for some kind of quest or at least a backstory, but all it did was spew out basic game info. No quests, no story, nothing to guide me. Frustrated, I decided to search online for guides, but all I found were a few vague forum posts that didn't help at all.
The game was a wasteland, both in-game and out.
Yawning, I glanced at the time. It was getting late.
---
The next day, I logged back in, hoping—against all odds—that something had changed. Maybe the developers had done something, anything, to make this game worth playing. But as the loading screen faded, I was met with the same barren landscape. Only this time, something was off.
My character's feet were glued to the ground. Every step felt like I was dragging my legs through molasses. I groaned, pushing harder as if that would help.
"Of course," I muttered. "They can't even update the game without breaking it further."
I tried jumping to free myself, but my character barely lifted off the ground before snapping back into place. Frustrated, I opened my friends list, hoping someone might be able to help. But the list was empty. Not a single friend online. Hell, I wasn't even sure I had any friends anymore.
"Great, just great," I grumbled. "Not a single soul around to share in my misery."
As I trudged through the glitchy landscape, I noticed the sky above was flickering—patches of blue phasing in and out, replaced by a stark black void. It was like the developers had forgotten to finish the skybox.
'You know what, I'm gonna stream this shit.'
"You pixelated hellscape."
With nothing else to do, I toggled my streaming software and started a live session. Even if my friends weren't around, maybe my viewers could get a laugh out of the game's failures.
"Hey everyone," I said, forcing a smile for the camera. "Welcome to another episode of 'Why Did I Buy This Game?'"
A couple of my seven loyal viewers popped into the chat, and seeing their familiar usernames made me feel a little better.
Daisy: What's going on this time?
IKYKYK: I remember you saying this game was a Bugden. Fixed anything?
I laughed, a short, bitter sound. "Fix? No, they just added more bugs. Look at this—my feet are stuck, and the sky is half missing!"
I panned the camera to show the glitchy landscape, the flickering sky, and the random pixel clusters scattered across the ground.
"See that tree over there?" I pointed. "It teleports randomly. I spent an hour yesterday trying to reach it, only to be dragged back every few steps."
Daisy: Wow, that's messed up.
IKYKYK: Why do you even play this?
"Kinda interesting, honestly." I shrugged. "At this point, it's more about the challenge of seeing how bad it can get. Plus, I need something to rant about."
As I continued streaming, I made another attempt to reach the tree, dragging my feet inch by inch. The viewers kept me company, sharing their own horror stories of buggy games and laughing at my growing frustration.
"This game is a nightmare to the point where it makes all your stories sound like a breeze."
IKYKYK: Maybe that's the tutorial—survive the bugs!
I couldn't help but laugh. "You might be right. Anyway, thanks for sticking around. Let's see how far we can get before I rage quit."
It didn't take long—I was done after about twenty minutes.
Daisy: Well, that was disappointing.
IKYKYK: If you don't at least suffer for three hours tomorrow, consider me out!
I sighed.