This review contains spoilers
true demon ending is the unequivocal favorite amongst nocturne's admirers. given the heavy signposting in the early game, its gameplay density, and its sensational finale i get it. i can't scoff at people for picking an option that, within the context of maniax, is the safest and most logical course of action. but, if we ground ourselves within the confines of vanilla nocturne, a space in which the stance of toppling the very concept of samsara is nonexistent, we open its narrative up to more negotiable interpretations that wedges well with the rest of the franchise motifs. interpretations that get cloaked under the shadow of the extravagant, dante-flaunting rerelease. conversations the western audience never got to have, lost in translation by the glory of fighting the great will itself.
the vortex world carries itself with an ambiance of cynicism; without fail, the conception has occurred not by the hand of divine intervention but from the hearts of the despairing and bitter. an undercurrent of idealism, pessimism, and nihilism prevails through the every day, and deconstructing and remodeling what some perceive as the vices of it is how we settle these mental qualms. it’s how we’ve always progressed, in a world rifted in systematic malevolency it's the only endpoint and the conception acts as a natural materialization of this custom. thusly, when we glance at the psychotic ramblings of aradia we wonder why one would have faith in such degeneracy. why partaken in a journey to actualize a new vision of the world just to go back to the norm? it's all the more reducted by yuko takao’s spineless benevolence, being the maiden who trigger the catalyst yet realizing all too late she never desired radicality to begin with. while the intricacies of yosuga could only be contrived from the minds of the confused and traumatized, at the very least that entails seizing an opportunity to mold the world as you see fit. for what purpose would one desire to go back to the days of old in a culture of constantly chasing evolution?
returning to a neutral has been the thematic cornerstone of smt, but for vanilla nocturne in particular it’s so hard to make a satisfactory case for it. there’s no explicit confession that the real is broken and needs to be reevaluated, leading to look at their messiahs and balk at them. when yuko disillusionment reaches its apex, she confides in a divine sponsor in hopes that they will give them a reason. but, aradia never bestows her a reason, only abstractions and trials. instead aradia insists to us that to apprehend freedom, we must commit an act of dissociation. remove ourselves from the idea that our perspective is the only truth and reason, and relish ourselves in obliquity. realize that even with the fruition of freedom, we are doomed to witness the same ritual death and rebirth, the implications of which are further amped by the innate absurdity of freedom. there is a very real possibility that, by virtue of following the name of freedom, someone could simply inaugurate the conception again and there's an even higher possibility of you not living to see it. freedom is a path cursed by plague, pain, ridicule, betrayal, rejection, defeat, et cetera, and allying with it is to sign our death certificates.
yet, aradia entertains our freedom. she wants us to do what we believe is right, regardless of one's mortality. she feels that by rejecting the anti-social nation of reason in exchange for the horrifying ramifications of autonomy, each of us can maximize our potential. we wonder about an innately meaningless environment, but it leaves us to fosters our own meaning, our own reasons, and communicate that outlook with others, fleshing out our ultimately limited perspectives in the process. we may acknowledge how our truths may never align with others in comfort, given your truths is as powerless as any other. it's a condition as spirited as it is unsettling and in our absurd quest to find this abstract quintessence we find beauty. we're fools that bear the name of freedom, and no insular reason could hope to capture that essence. the true demon ending may be emotionally cathartic and a sincere call for systematic change and destruction, but we are not armed with mythological beings. we cannot run up to god and demand him to spare us from the pressure and anxiety of cyclic living. we can only play the cards we're dealt.
the vortex world carries itself with an ambiance of cynicism; without fail, the conception has occurred not by the hand of divine intervention but from the hearts of the despairing and bitter. an undercurrent of idealism, pessimism, and nihilism prevails through the every day, and deconstructing and remodeling what some perceive as the vices of it is how we settle these mental qualms. it’s how we’ve always progressed, in a world rifted in systematic malevolency it's the only endpoint and the conception acts as a natural materialization of this custom. thusly, when we glance at the psychotic ramblings of aradia we wonder why one would have faith in such degeneracy. why partaken in a journey to actualize a new vision of the world just to go back to the norm? it's all the more reducted by yuko takao’s spineless benevolence, being the maiden who trigger the catalyst yet realizing all too late she never desired radicality to begin with. while the intricacies of yosuga could only be contrived from the minds of the confused and traumatized, at the very least that entails seizing an opportunity to mold the world as you see fit. for what purpose would one desire to go back to the days of old in a culture of constantly chasing evolution?
returning to a neutral has been the thematic cornerstone of smt, but for vanilla nocturne in particular it’s so hard to make a satisfactory case for it. there’s no explicit confession that the real is broken and needs to be reevaluated, leading to look at their messiahs and balk at them. when yuko disillusionment reaches its apex, she confides in a divine sponsor in hopes that they will give them a reason. but, aradia never bestows her a reason, only abstractions and trials. instead aradia insists to us that to apprehend freedom, we must commit an act of dissociation. remove ourselves from the idea that our perspective is the only truth and reason, and relish ourselves in obliquity. realize that even with the fruition of freedom, we are doomed to witness the same ritual death and rebirth, the implications of which are further amped by the innate absurdity of freedom. there is a very real possibility that, by virtue of following the name of freedom, someone could simply inaugurate the conception again and there's an even higher possibility of you not living to see it. freedom is a path cursed by plague, pain, ridicule, betrayal, rejection, defeat, et cetera, and allying with it is to sign our death certificates.
yet, aradia entertains our freedom. she wants us to do what we believe is right, regardless of one's mortality. she feels that by rejecting the anti-social nation of reason in exchange for the horrifying ramifications of autonomy, each of us can maximize our potential. we wonder about an innately meaningless environment, but it leaves us to fosters our own meaning, our own reasons, and communicate that outlook with others, fleshing out our ultimately limited perspectives in the process. we may acknowledge how our truths may never align with others in comfort, given your truths is as powerless as any other. it's a condition as spirited as it is unsettling and in our absurd quest to find this abstract quintessence we find beauty. we're fools that bear the name of freedom, and no insular reason could hope to capture that essence. the true demon ending may be emotionally cathartic and a sincere call for systematic change and destruction, but we are not armed with mythological beings. we cannot run up to god and demand him to spare us from the pressure and anxiety of cyclic living. we can only play the cards we're dealt.
Fortayee
1 year ago