A/N: Kojima is truly a God when it comes to player identification with the hero. The Arsenal Gear level from MGS2: Sons of Liberty speaks volumes, and the battle with the Sorrow in MGS3: Snake Eater is the most bizarre experience a gamer would go through.
Unless you have crossed the River of the Sorrow, I don't think you will enjoy this.
Just Another Host of Sorrows
A piece of writing inspired by the river encounter with the Sorrow
They are the same, all of them coming with the raging fire of a denied existence only to have it quenched with tears from The Sorrow. He is no different but more pitiable than the others since he is not aware of his early trespassing over the Realm of the Dead. Sad! So sad! Still, you cannot deny a faint smile from capturing you lips; a tribute for his spirited yet tattered body.
Your smile retreats in haste, making way to an overwhelming sense of dread. You witness him dragging jaded legs through the blazing River of Sorrow – ears deaf to the sinister roars of the dark thunder that keep rising with each tread that denies them their rightful reverence. And the rain comes, with it your empathy toward the dying flames of his alter fire.
Surprisingly, his steps never falter in their blind quest of the gracious Host waiting impatiently for his ignorant guest. His muddy boots are disturbing the sluggish water and, with it, the peace of its vengeful dwellers. They yearn to bounce at him, to pry his chest open and dig out his proud heart – a heart that will certainly make a thoughtful offering to quell their restless spirits. Too bad! They have to wait for Him to give them His blessings; but, luckily, their wait is short-lived and the Host arises from underneath the dark river of sorrows. Expectantly, you trap your breath in your tight throat. You wish you can voice your warning cries to him but he spares you the moral dilemma. He has sensed Him already.
He surprises you again with his imitation of a gunman's stance – a futile move that soon earns him your sympathy. Pity immediately vanishes when his stern voice summons you back to the dark scene unfolding in this forgotten realm. "You're one of them, aren't you?" He spits fearlessly, challenging his unreal enemy to try and take him down once again. Does he know that they are more than one? You cannot be sure. Soon though, they will oblige him but not before their Host allows it. Finally, He does and the dwellers rise to claim their rightful vengeance. You know they will savior it; after all, their fatal wounds are still pouring hot dark blood, and blood always call for blood. Does he care? Apparently no!
He marches challengingly with arms pulled in front while supplying power from the fiercely clutched fists. He makes path for himself led by his taunting Host – a seducing siren urging him to sink deep into the Nether Existence but not before he pays for this one-way ticket. Regardless, no matter what his Host throws at him, he can handle it. He acts so sure making you sure of his victory as well. And you join him, not because his side is the righteous one but rather because it is the victorious one. You grip the controller so hard pushing forward through the River of the Dead.
You venture deep careless of how many may come at you, trying eagerly to have a piece of your rising soul. Slit throats, gunned heads, torn limbs… you don't flinch and you never lose sight of your dark angel as He leads the way back to life while humming his foreboding tune, "Sad! So sad!" However, the more you push through your victims that more suffocating it becomes. Consciences never been a gentle tutor but fatherly nevertheless; always trying to teach not to pain. So, He starts washing your anxious mind with disturbing waves of his own pain and sadness. Frightened, you seek shelter reaching deep in your heart, in your soul, in your mind. You search for a reason, a justification of your past violent actions. You quickly find an answer and you silently chant, 'It's just a game, a video game!' However, it gets more disturbing and your path is blocked again. Now you know your answer was a wrong one so you search again; this time more thoughtfully.
Luckily, you are spared the hassle of searching for a truth that does not exist; spared by none other than your now board Angel of Death. "Leave this world now! You don't belong to the dead yet. They may call for you and their voices might fall upon deaf ears but make no mistake – they are never silent!" You rejoice. You have passed the Sorrow's eerie test, but what is next? He keeps ordering you to leave his world of the dead but how? You approach him thinking to ask him to show you the way but a bestial cry pierce your fragile soul taking with it some of your barely preserved sanity. You snap out quickly trying to figure out what just happened. You look at him puzzled with his aggressive reaction but soon you get hypnotized with that single eye shedding crimson tears of Sorrow, pained yet sincere!
"Leave! There are those who still need you back among the livings." He breaks his spell upon you, frees you from His sad world but you are too coward to accept this freedom and return back where you came. He senses your hesitation and reacts just like the tough teacher He is, stealing your breath and leaving you chocking for dear life. As your eyes lose sight, the last to see is His stern face roaming in front while waiting for you to summon the courage and go back where you truly belong.
Time is running. You know you better act fast otherwise you will have to go through this disturbing spiritual trial once again. Frantically, you look around trying to figure a way out of this before your hourglass empties its precious sands. In such drastic time you look for drastic solution; that is a token of life given to you earlier but you chose to hide it even from yourself. It is too precious to waste but now it is the time to relay on it simply because you have just lost your only allay behind the enemy lines. You use it – a magic potion said to call back lost souls as long as they did not make it beyond the boundaries of the After Life.
Once again, you find yourself in control; safe and sane. You are back in action and you check you armory as any good soldier about to engage an enemy. Armed to the teeth, you find your prey lurking beyond the thick bushes; and the hunter becomes the hunted. Gun locked and loaded, you are ready to take him down and clear your path but it does not seem so right this time. You hesitate and a sinister sense prevents you from pushing the button. 'Is it necessary?' You question your violent tendency. However, whether your pull the trigger or not depends on you. Do you really want to go through that horrible trail again? Make no mistake, you are walking down this path again but now it is your chance to shape it and make it a less thorny one.
Fin