I find myself sitting on the ground just laughing. Then, all of this bottled up emotion, this maelstrom, shoved down before to allow me to focus, it explodes.
As the boss goes down, I just stare at the screen for a second, not quite believing I made it. But in this universe, I roll to the left, avoid his attack and charge, piercing him with my ice-covered blade.Ī big victory in Dark Souls III elicits the sort of reaction from me that I’d be frankly embarrassed to reveal to people that don’t orbit the realm of videogames. A different me just runs away, out of reach, and the dance continues. In another, I try to hit him before he hits me, but he’s a split second quicker. In one universe, I dodge backward, but it’s not enough and I’m crushed. He makes his move, and a multiverse of options opens up. We’ve done this several times already, and the death has always been mine.
We’re dancing, postponing the inevitable – one of us is going to die. I’m an armour-clad knight with a sweet sword and a sliver of health. He’s a Dark Souls III boss with a bad attitude and a sliver of health. With trembling, sweaty hands I grip the controller like a lifeline.
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