Pharos Fidelis

This was the second-most substantial game I've played this IFComp, and took me around 3.5 hours to play, with dinner in the middle, so about 2.5-3 hours of playtime.

This is a rich and complex game. Instead of focusing on a multitude of small choices, it has a small set of meaningful choices that shape the later narrative. There's a lot of branches here, leading to 500K words, though much of that is due to minor variations of text; with efficient variable use, it would probably be 200-300K, still very large, but that would also probably make it buggy, so I think the author made a smart move here.

The choices themselves manage to be some of the most difficult ones in my recent gameplaying history. Each one is a compromise, giving something you want and something you don't.

But I guess I should describe the story. For those who aren't aware DemonApologist is a talented author whose works almost exclusively focus on what I might describe as monsteryaoi, where a human engages in a romantic relationship with a being typically depicted as evil or malevolent by others. I've found their past works to be engaging and good with dialogue and emotion, so much so that I have tried to study them as I practice writing romance for commercial fiction.

This game is no exception to the monster-loving pattern; in fact, it's the most well-formed example of it I've played. It also, as I describe earlier, provides an enhanced sense of agency.

Our protagonist is a humble initiate who has been prevented from ascending in the ranks of magicdom due to a cruel and callous advisor who won't let him graduate due to his sympathy towards demons. The advisor even summons demons and has them fight each other to the death to demonstrate how unimportant their lives are. He then gives the initiate an impossible task: to light the Pharos Fidelis, an extremely cursed lighthouse at the center of a magical storm.

He is also explicitly asked not to summon demons, and, if he does, to expect them to kill him.

Our initiate, therefore, takes the most logical action in the moment, which is to summon the hottest demon he knows (the one who was defeated in the earlier duel) and to flirt with him awkwardly.

Fortunately, it works out! Or not. That's where the choices come into play. At critical moments, 'you', the viewpoint character (different form the protagonist), get to influence the demon towards one of two options. Each option comes with one benefit and one drawback. These critical moments stack, producing numerous branching timelines and a ton of different endings.

The game looks great. The UI has little gears that pop open side comments and commentary, and I especially loved the background color change when the big event occurred. That event itself was described quite beautifully.

Perhaps surprisingly, the romance in this game peaks in the middle, not the end, allowing us plenty of time to see what a fully formed relationship might look like. I am reticent to play explicit games, but the game is very tasteful in describing our interactions with the demon and I did not feel distressed.

The game left me with a question in my mind about demon love and the concept of demon apologism in general. What is the essential core and appeal of the demon? Is it to be evil, itself? Or is it to be called evil by others? Would a sainted angel who is angelic in nature but hated by a cruel world still feel like a demon, or is it more important that the demon be ruthless and aggressive in nature and only tamed by the touch of man? If a demon turns out to be a good guy, does that erase his demon nature? If to be a demon is to be evil incarnate, can a demon truly make someone happy, a decidedly non-evil act? If it is not evil incarnate, then what makes a demon? It is a paradox, and not just a fruitless one. A lot of romance and even stories in general pivot on the notion of a 'bad boy/girl' that ends up having a heart of gold and doesn't really do bad boy things at all. This isn't directed to the author, it's just something their game made me think about a lot, because I think it's core to a large swathe of storytelling.