Hades

Joyfully trapped between Luck, Chaos, and Skill

This article contains light spoilers about the game “Hades”, developed and published by company “Supergiant Games.” Although not much that isn’t obvious from the title of the game.

Zagreus steps onto the snow ready to once against take on his father, Hades. Since I’m playing on Extreme Measures at 15+ Burn, I know this is going to be tough. I haven’t quite mastered how to dodge all of Hades’ attacks, while also keeping the number of ghost urns off the field. I’m going to get hit. A lot. The longer the fight goes on, the more likely I’ll lose. Worst of all, this run was — let’s say — “Questionable.” Sure, I’ve got three Death Defiances, a solid two Daedalus upgrades on Varatha (Achilles aspect). A good set. However, the boons simply didn’t quite go my way this time around. I’ve got some absurd combination of Ares Aid Ultimate with no blade rift upgrades, Demeter cast with bad upgrades, and Zeus attacks and flourish, which aren’t even Heroic in rarity, and boons that simply aren’t meshing the way I wish. I’ll probably lose.

Or maybe not. Because Hermes came through hard. +3 Dashes from Greatest Reflex, an Epic Hyper Sprint, and +30 attack speed on my primary. So if I play smart and careful with some smart hit-and-run, I might win. Maybe.

“Well,” I sigh and lean forward with my PS controller in hand, “let’s find out.”

This sense of optimism, somewhat stoic, I’ve never had before taking on the unknown. Especially not in a videogame. On paper, Hades is the kind of game I would hate to play. It insults the idea of planning, scoffs at predictability, and mocks my attempts at controlling and optimizing. It deliberating undermines my perfectionism, and forces me to deal with less-than-ideal situations as a general rule of frustration.

But Supergiant Games — the creator of the game “Hades” — have really outdone themselves. This article will be something of a review, more of an anthem to what is one of my favorite games of all time, and just a reflection on it all.

Honestly, I don’t play Rogue-lites. I find the the idea of these games antithetical to just about everything I stand for. I’m the type of player who starts off playing Doom Eternal on Nightmare, willing to die dozens of times to dominate that game. I know what guns I prefer, how to take on the enemies, what enemies will appear when and how, what paths to take to dodge and kill them, and I’ve mastered the badass weapons they’ve set me up with. These tools never change. In Doom Eternal, I’m the righteous hand of Seraphim Order smashing the hell of out chaotic hellspawn.

Doom Eternal presents a series of tough challenges that you must overcome with skill, grit, and adrenaline-fueled reflexes. Absolutely intoxicating.

Now, Hades doesn’t exactly do the opposite. After all, at 20+ Burn, it’s quite difficult and I’m felt my fair share of intense rushes. But Hades lives and breathes randomness and chaos. The theme of chaos is so well ingrained in the story’s theme, that you literally meet and befriend the primordial being of Chaos itself.

Worst of all, this game doesn’t care about my perfect builds, by often not letting me have them. Ever. It grudgingly gives me a tiny bit of control of my fate, which amounts to re-rolling the dice on some upgrade paths or chamber rewards. You don’t get the option of throwing Fate’s dice out the window. Thus, it forces me into sub-optimal choices. Combine this with the game’s survivalist element and I find myself dealing with the consequences of those choices. My spirits often sink when I find myself in this situation.

Then I remember a concept from the business book “Great by Choice”, by Jim Collins, known as “Return on Luck.”

“Our research showed that the great companies were not generally luckier than the comparisons,” explained Jim Collins. “They did not get more good luck, less bad luck, bigger spikes of luck, or better timing of luck. Instead, they got a higher return on luck, making more of their luck than others. The critical question is not, ‘Will you get lucky?’ but ‘What will you do with the luck that you get?’”

What does a business book have to say about personal growth? Economics 101 could explain it through something called “Human Capital.” Something I’ll touch on in a later article.

For now, let’s say Hades loves to surprise the player. When I have bad luck, I play my best and more often than not, figure out how to make use of what I once believed was an awful Boon combination. All of a sudden, I’ve created some alchemical concoction of awesomeness that absolutely upsets my expectations.

Of course, I still hate it. Even when it turns out great for me. No. Especially when it turns out great because I wonder why didn’t I see this earlier? I hate my assumptions being thrown out, even when it’s for my own good. If you had asked me before I played Hades whether I enjoy playing Rogue-like games with all kinds of randomness embedded into the game, you would get a resounding “No”.

Yet, Hades has turned my need for top-down planning and command-and-control on its head. Which Boon combinations work and which one’s don’t, what weapons are good and which one’s aren’t — I’m simply not confident to any make universal proclamations in-spite of playing over 150+ hours. I learn something new with every escape attempt.

In fact, I’ve escaped with what I believed would be absolute trash combos. I’ve (very frustratingly) lost with “unbeatable” combos, thanks to unfounded arrogance and bad play, and have absolutely ruined what should’ve have been a cakewalk if not for me getting in my way.

Simply put, I’ve learned to let go. To “go with the flow” if you will. A videogame has taught me how to do this better than any of my friends and family, books and articles, TV shows and movies. If I could explain the power of videogames is that unlike other forms of entertainment, they really let you vicariously live out a life philosophy in a safe digital environment.

Now, the game isn’t completely unpredictable. The enemies you face never quite change. You know you’re going to fight Brightswords and Nemean Chariots in Elysium, with no significant A.I. changes to really shake things up. This predictability goes double, if not, triple for boss battles, who never change anything but which attack they’ll do.

Thus, raw skill has a place. Boss patterns, how to deal with attack waves, timing your dash for perfect evades, keeping in mind multiple enemy attack patterns always pay dividends, and so much more always pays dividends.

Yet what’s remarkable — what’s surprises me in its addictive quality — is that I don’t really know if I’m going to win this time around. I don’t even really know what my gameplan will be until I’m handing Cerberus a sack of rats, because only at that point is your destiny — your weapons, boons, and items choices — become final.

Regardless, Hades has taught me that not only can my brain deal with chaos, and not being able to control everything, but I can actually thrive it in disorder, often using raw skill to carry me forward. I can’t overtly say that I prefer chaos. My genes won’t let my emotions co-sign such blasphemy. But, I can feel neutral about it, a kind of stoic resolve against the unknown.

It’s such good luck that I stumbled upon Hades. For that I’m grateful to the fates. I will do my best to get a high return on that luck.