The game was a FPS from the era of Daikatana and Duke Nukem. A Sci Fi shoot em up with wacky guns. I blitzed it over an Easter weekend.
Most of the game took place in a space station. The plot lacked originality. You had to shoot hordes of aliens in an attempt to reach your spaceship. Pipes of green goop framed white panel walls. The music was pounding, infinite, generic techno that kept your heart rate up. Good fun for three or four days, but one to purchase second hand.
About halfway through you have to exit the main space station, and dash across the alien landscape to access an emergency airlock. This required the death of a few baddies, but should not take more than two minutes. This area was not static. A shattered purple moon hung above an equally purple ocean. The music drops, and all that remains are the sound of the waves and your footsteps.
You are meant to move on. But I stopped, and saved the game. Faced the ocean, and listened to the waves wash back and forth. Something similar to a dolphin broke the skin of the water, and returned far below.
After thirty minutes in the same spot, I thought about the culture on this planet. Somehow I knew that when the aliens took their armour off, they went to the beach to relax. Play with their children. Every month had a festival day, which focused on bathing, and a sense of peace.
After an hour I knew I would not shoot another being. In hour three two of the antagonists marched in front of my player. They lead him away, and the screen faded to black.
That was twenty years ago. But nightmares still follow trips to the seaside. The guilt of my murders never ceases. I cannot leave that beach.
