

It took me a while to pick up Nier: Automata, and when I finally did, I was already aware of most of its plot points: I had watched my boyfriend play (and become obsessed with) it and it had immediately sparked my interest, so I had let myself be spoiled, especially because I didn’t think I’d have the time for a playthrough of my own anytime soon. I did, however, always know that I would eventually play it. It simply looked too beautiful, too interesting, too sad for me not to; it sounded exactly like my type of game — which is why, about a month ago, I decided to start my own save file.

It’s funny: I already knew what would happen. I knew how fucked-up it all was. I may not have been in on the exact details, but I did know exactly what kind of message the game was trying to get through. And yet, despite all that, it still managed to completely, utterly, ridiculously blow my mind.

Automata is not a game that can be summed up, explained, described — or, as I would come to find out, watched. It is, first and foremost, an experience; a sensorial, intellectual and emotional one, personal and non-transferable. No amount of reading, listening or viewing could have prepared me for the feeling of playing as 2B, and then as 9S, and then as A2; for the terrible and unmatched heartbreak of it all. To be honest, it’s hard to even know where to start with this article — I don’t feel I could ever do this game justice. But I’ll try. Please do keep in mind, however, that the following is crawling with major spoilers for the game. (No, seriously. You could not possibly be more spoiled.)

The basic stuff

Nier: Automata is unlike any game I’ve ever played, and I mean this on every possible level. Even if it weren’t the genius philosophical mindfuck that is undeniably is, it would still be a ridiculously fun game to play — the combat is delicious, and being able to play as different characters with very different traits is definitely refreshing. I think it’s impossible to come out of Automata without a favorite character to play as. Mine is (quite unpopularly) 9S, hands down — as the only one of the three who can hack locked chests, playing as him saves you the hassle of having to come back for treasure, and, unlike many (most?) people, I just enjoy hacking in general. It probably helps that I’m good at it, but I genuinely think it’s a fun and challenging minigame, one that can make some battles absurdly easier. (Don’t get me wrong: I don’t like to rely on hacking to win battles, combat is way too fun for that; still, some bosses are just worth beating this way.) Since I’m not a fan of heavy attacks — never have been, never will be –, and much prefer the speed of light swords and spears, the fact that 9S only features light combat mode doesn’t bother me at all. Either way, the fun is in how different your experience with each of them can be, especially considering they’re using the exact same weapons.

And that’s it for the fun part, or I’d just stay here typing all day — moving on to the beautiful. Which is… well, everything. From the incredible character design to the voice acting (Japanese, that is — I refuse to play Automata with English audio), the musical score, the script, the scenarios; the true ending, where you quite literally fight the game’s credits, as if rebelling against the creators for a better future — which eventually becomes impossible without the aid of other players all around the world, who sacrifice their save files in order to help you (as you may do yours later)… genius. Just genius.

The fluidity. When you finish the game’s true ending, you gain access to a Chapter Select mode, where you can go back to moments of your choice in order to finish quests, replay scenes, or whatever the hell you want — when applicable, the game even asks which character you want to play a given chapter as. The best part of this is that experience, money and items literally accumulate from one chapter jump to the other, making the post-game experience just as fun, and not at all burdensome. Usually, when I finish an RPG, even if I set my mind on a New Game+, I need some time to rest before playing the same story all over again — Automata completely kills this feeling by allowing you to immediately do whatever you want, whenever you want, with whomever you want, for as long as you want. The moment you finish the game, you still want more, and you can have it — no hassle.

Automata‘s story in a not-so-nutshelly nutshell

Now that I have mentioned all the technical highlights that make Automata so fucking original and amazing to me, it’s time I get to what makes it brilliant: the plot and its essential messages. Brace yourselves: shit is about to get depressing. Yes, more depressing than whatever example you might be thinking of comparing it to.

A bit far removed from its predecessor, Automata takes place in 11945, quite a few thousands years after the events in the first Nier game. The premise presented as the game starts is that, following an alien invasion and the subsequent release of hostile machines on Earth, humanity has all but disappeared. The few survivors have moved to the Moon, and it is from there that they give out instructions to the androids they have built in order to fight the machines. A particular force of special androids, YoRHa, is being used in this war; their operating base is the Bunker, a floating station in outer space onto which they may at any time upload their current settings and memories, in case they lose their chassis in battle (virtually making them immortal). The player starts off as 2B, a combat-oriented YoRHa model, as she is dispatched to Earth in order to take down a giant (“Goliath-type”) machine. She is paired up with 9S, a data gathering-oriented unit much more upbeat than herself. In the game’s first playthrough, the so-called “route A”, facts are presented to the player quite objectively, through 2B’s almost autistic aloofness. Although 9S attempts to make jokes, and even understand machines better, 2B always keeps to her mission, not once responding in the same tone and seeming almost annoyed by 9S’s frequent curiosity-driven incursions in the world of machines. Contrary to androids, and despite otherwise less advanced, machines are interconnected in a network, and it is interesting to note that, while androids are far too fearing and respectful of humans to try and act like them, perceiving the imitation as a sin and offense against their creators, machines, created by aliens and genuinely fascinated with mankind, often end up acting more human-like than their much more human-looking counterparts. This shows in several plot excerpts and sidequests, from hostile machine lifeforms that display emotions such as jealousy and hate, to friendly, network-disconnected ones who live in communities and treat each other like family. The machines’ need of parent figures, theorized ingame to be due to the feeling of abandonment stemming from the extinction, at their own hands, of their alien creators, is a total counterpart to androids’ “robot-like”, human-adoring way of living, in what can very much be seen as a mockery of religion.

2B’s attitude first begins to fall apart upon meeting Adam and Eve, two brother humanoid machine lifeforms, the first of their kind (their names, much like everything else in the game, were obviously not left to chance). Adam and Eve were born of the machines’ wish to be more human; as the more advanced lifeforms in the network, at this point, they practically run it. This, however, does not mean that they like it. Faithful to his nature, Adam, the “older brother” figure of the two, lives obsessed with understanding humanity. To this end, he undertakes all sorts of strange ventures, from reading books (which, he believes, highens their emotional impact in comparison to simply downloading the data onto his system) to eating — there’s a very symbolic, very interesting scene where he gives Eve an apple — and dressing up as an intellectual. After a fast period of evolving, he eventually figures that the cornerstone of being human is the reality of death. As a machine connected to the network, Adam cannot die; even if he’s injured, he is immediately healed through it. Raging against his own creation, which he did not choose, and realizing that neither machines nor androids can ever truly experience humanity due to their immortal status (machines through the network, androids through the Bunker back-ups), Adam decides to disconnect himself from the network and find a heartfelt battle to die in — a true battle to the death, human-like and final. He finds it in 2B. For some reason predicting that her emotions would surface if 9S were to be in danger, Adam kidnaps and crucifies him, inviting her to see it with her own eyes. She does, and her true feelings do surface: in a first fit of true rage, she drives her sword into Adam, who, with a smile on his face, mutters “So dark, so cold…” as he lies bleeding to death. While his attempt at being human is short-lived and almost underwhelming, it is eventually fulfilled in his brother. Now devoid of a reason for living — Adam was everything to him –, Eve gives in to insanity; his emotions strong beyond his control, he accidentally overtakes the machine network, creating a global hostile uproar like no other so far and unwillingly displaying a more human side than Adam ever managed. Defeating Eve marks the end of route A — thanks to 9S’s hacking, the younger brother is disconnected from the machine network, allowing 2B to effectively kill him. This is not, however, without a cost: in the process, 9S contracts a virus that would eventually make him lose his mind and turn on his comrades. Aware of this, he asks for 2B to kill him, which she initially is not inclined to do — 9S hasn’t backed up his data in a while, and can’t do so now that he is infected, so, in dying, the “him” that he his now will disappear. She does not want this. However, she also realizes she doesn’t have a choice. Crying for the first time, 2B almost lovingly chokes 9S to death, while pleading “Why must it always end like this?” — a cryptic thing to say at this point, that the player could not yet possibly understand. Exhausted, she stays by his corpse, when, suddenly, a supposedly destroyed huge machine nearby begins to make noises. Hurt to near-madness, she is about to drive her sword through it when she realizes 9S is speaking through the machine’s body. It seems that, while hacking the machine network, some of his data stayed behind. Excited, in typical 9S fashion, he rambles on about the unusualness of the situation, when 2B stops him, relieved beyond belief. 9S picks her up in his giant machine hand, and so the credits roll for ending A — flowers for m[A]chines –, opening up the possibility of obtaining the other main endings.

Route B is all 9S’s; or, rather, it is his perspective of the events of route A. Contrary to what might be expected, however, this “replay” does not feel boring or repetitive; not only is the gameplay slightly different due to 9S’s hacking ability, the sidequests you had already finished in route A stay completed here, and since the main story events are not by any means long (and you’re seeing them through a different view), nothing really feels repetitive — Automata has amazing game design, and this is something I truly cannot stress enough. Either way, 9S, being a “Scanner type”, is constitutionally curious — he was literally made for it –, which is what leads him and, consequently, the player, to find out, near ending B, that… humanity is no more. It has been extinct since before the arrival of aliens and machines on Earth, the reason for its demise having been a fast-spreading fatal disease. In order to fight for the survival of the species, humans came up with Project Gestalt, in which minds — “Gestalts” — and bodies — “Replicants” — were to be separated, and reunited only once the disease had been eradicated. The first androids were created in order to oversee the project; in particular, several pairs of Devola and Popola twin models were built, each assigned to a different project site. However, due to circumstances explained in the original Nier game, Project Gestalt failed, leading to the extinction of humanity — despite the androids’ earnest attempts, the species could not be revived, and the genes and data of Gestalts and Replicants were sent to a storage facility on the Moon for protection. Now devoid of their one purpose, androids all over began to lose heart. Aware of this, a specific android came up with YoRHa, a project designed to enhance android morale. The project’s cornerstone was to be the perpetuation of the lie that humans were still alive on the Moon, and that aliens and their machine creations were the ones responsible for driving them away. This gave androids a reason to fight: getting Earth back for humanity to return to (which, in turn, explains the project’s motto: “For the Glory of Mankind”). Knowing it would destroy her spirit, 9S chooses not to share this information with 2B. Route B ends with YoRHa’s “final attack” on machines, during which all units unexpectedly become affected with the same virus that 9S had contracted during route A, leading to them destroying each other, and even the Bunker: all units except 9S and 2B, that is, because during the data overhaul through which the virus had spread, 9S had noticed something was off and had not uploaded his and 2B’s data. In the midst of mayhem, 2B manages to drive 9S away from the fight against their comrades, thus effectively sacrificing her life for his. She becomes affected with the virus and eventually dies at her own request at the hand of A2, a “Wanted” rogue android the pair had once encountered during one of their missions, about whom not much is known. Arriving just then at the scene, 9S thinks A2 has murdered 2B, and becomes obsessed with the idea of killing her.

Route C features both A2, who, as a tribute, takes over 2B’s sword, memories, mission and even hairstyle, and 9S, driven to madness by the truth he’s discovered and by 2B’s death, and set on destroying, well, everything. Naturally, A2’s nature and past are further clarified here: she belonged to the group of prototypes that eventually gave way to the current, upgraded YoRHa models (which is why her name is styled differently, with the letter before the number), and she went rogue when she found out that her only purpose was to be the guinea pig on which to base the new androids — which they did anyway: 2B is literally an upgraded version of her — and then discarded. All of her friends died; she escaped, and by trusting only herself, managed to survive. It is interesting to note that while she did find out the reason for her existence, she is not in on the truth behind YoRHa project as a whole — which, as we come to find out in this route, especially through 9S, is even darker than it already seemed.

Special YoRHa units, such as our protagonists, were never meant to survive; in fact, the fight against machines is not ever to be won, because if it were, androids would once again lose their purpose. On the contrary, YoRHa androids are supposed to nearly win the war and then die out, giving way to a new, upgraded generation built and perfected through their collected data. The Bunker’s destruction, witnessed in Automata, was always meant to happen. YoRHa androids are not at all aware of their purpose, except for Scanners such as 9S, who, due to their nature, invariably come to uncover the truth in each of their lifetimes. Because of this, they are always paired up with Type Es, “E” for “executioner”, whole sole job is to kill them when Command realizes they’ve found out the truth. And this is where Automata‘s (arguably) sickest, most fucked-up reality finally comes to light: 2B, actually 2E (the name change being part of the disguise needed for the job), is actually only there to murder 9S when the time comes. And she has already done so. Multiple, countless times. With each time, 9S’s memory is wiped, and so every time the two meet is the first time to him. 2B, however, retains her memories, and, in spite of herself, has fallen in love with 9S, making her situation all the more tragic. 9S himself, of course, quite obviously becomes attracted to her every time they meet. This is why, when we see 2B kill him in route A, she cries and says “Why must it always end like this?”. 9S realizes the truth about this at an unknown point in the game; yet, he holds no grudge and has no change in attitude. In fact, other sources of Automata lore, namely Yoko Taro’s many short stories based off it, show that 9S actually found out 2B’s true purpose every time — and once made her promise that she would always kill him, so they would always meet again. Which is why she always does.

Let’s get philosophical

In the end, we find that both sides of this war, while not working together, are driven by the same will: having a purpose. The machine network, too — namely through the so-called “Red Girl”, its projection –, is consciously fighting an endless war. The machines do not wish to finish off all androids — that would take away their only reason to be. Instead, they want to keep fighting, and in doing so, to keep learning, especially about humanity, their biggest fascination. Likewise, androids, as seen above, are not supposed to wipe all machine lifeforms off Earth — they are literally on a morale-raising program consisting of the fake goal of taking the planet back, so they can’t ever actually take the planet back: and all of this is planned out for them through the YoRHa project. Why, then? Why keep this “endless cycle of life and death”, as 2B very well puts it at the beginning of the game?

There’s really no reason. That, however, from a nihilistic point of view, is also the case for human existence and life itself: there is no meaning. And so, despite its many thought-provoking situations, and its endless philosophical analogies (on which one could write several doctoral theses, no sarcasm), the message ultimately conveyed by Automata is one of futility; in particular, one of futile suffering. Automata provides no answers — only more questions.

It is not a happy game. It is not for everyone. Many have called Yoko Taro sadistic — which may actually be true. But Automata is perfect as it is. It’s fluid and fun, but if you dare to dig deeper (which is not at all hard to do, given that, from the beautiful detail of the stories attached to each weapon to the huge amount of intel gathered through the game, especially during sidequests, the producers are not-so-subtly begging you in), it’s also incredibly clever, beautiful — and wise.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse

As a parting gift, and taking a page from Automata‘s happy-go-lucky nature, I’d like to list the moments/situations that touched me the most throughout the game. All characters in Automata are tragic in one way or another, perhaps none other more so than 2B: still, the way the game ironically humanizes machines, especially in contrast to the human-adoring androids (who generally dare not be humanized), makes it so that most of the heartbreaking moments in it, to me, concern machines — it is the most shocking ones that usually involve androids. Anyway, here goes, in ascending order:

5. Oops, I Did It Again

The sidequest “Amnesia”, only available when playing as 9S, is triggered by speaking with a member of the android Resistance in an abandoned building of the City Ruins. She claims that her friend has died but she has absolutely no recollection of the events leading up to her death, since she lost her memory in an explosion. Forlorn, she asks 9S to hack her friend’s broken Pod in order to watch her final moments and find out who killed her. However, all you’re able to see is that it’s someone in a red hood — and so, obviously, she begs that you investigate who this person may be. After a lot of going back and forth, you eventually realize that the perpetrator was… the sidequest client herself. She is shocked upon hearing this, and asks that 9S further hack the Pod in order to obtain more information. When he does, the suspicions are confirmed. The woman then remembers she is actually a YoRHa Type E disguised as a Resistance member, and that she has killed several friends and lovers in the past. She laughs maniacally as you leave.

4. Custom Boyfriend

One of the longest and trickiest sidequests in the game, “Wandering Couple”, also contains one of its most fucked-up concepts. You are initially approached by a very much in love android couple who has fled the Resistance Camp because they wish to live in peace. They beg you not to tell on them, and subsequently ask you to perform a series of tasks in order to help them, all the while promising to pay you back one day. Eventually, however, they are betrayed by the man who was to facilitate their escape overseas; following this, they decide to go back to the camp. However, they are aware that the Resistance leader is unlikely to accept them back, and so they ask for your aid in wiping their memories, so that they cannot be held responsible for their previous escape. The man is not half as interested in this as the woman; he doesn’t want to lose his memories, because that would imply forgetting her. However, she assures him that their love is so strong that they would always find their way to each other. Resigned, he agrees to the memory wipe. When you approach her to do the same to her, however, her attitude changes completely; she says she just wanted his personality reformatted more to her liking, and that this is actually the 6th time she’s done something like this to him. Yep.

3. Nii-chan… Nii-chan…

This takes place right at the beginning of route B, before you gain control of 9S. For a few minutes, we get to play as a small stubby machine, whose “older brother” has been destroyed (or, should we respectfully say, killed). Not knowing any better, the small machine tries to make him better by bringing him oil — a very human-like thought process. You actually need to walk to the oil source in your small stubby feet, fill a bucket, and come back holding it, careful not to trip and have to do it all over again (which will happen if you go against anything on the ground). Obviously, once you get there, which takes a while and is just one more sadistic detail in Automata, the older brother is not revived by the oil. The small machine’s incessant calling of “Nii-chan”, Japanese for “older brother”, is haunting.

2. The Wrong Fear

One of the sweetest characters in Automata is Pascal, a peace-loving machine who built a whole village for others like him. There are a bunch of small stubbies there that he calls his “children”, teaches, plays with, and is overall very protective of, the relationship between them being one of the purest, most endearing in the game. At one point in route C, the village is attacked by hostile machines, and Pascal asks for A2’s help in protecting the children. He takes them to an abandoned factory, and then goes back outside in order to help A2 take the enemy down. When they return, after having succeeded, they come to find all of the children… dead. In order to escape the enormous fear they were feeling, they killed themselves. Pascal then realizes he only taught them fear — not the fear of death, because he didn’t know it himself — and this is why their priorities had been such. He then asks A2 to either wipe his memory or kill him. If you do the former, he can later on be found alone in his village, selling the remnants of his children, unaware of what they are.

1. The Forest King

This story contains, hands down and by far, the single line that crushed me the most in the whole game. This part of the plot happens in route A/B and tells of another peaceful village of machines, one that lives secluded in the forest and chooses not to interact with others, seeing them as intruders. When you play as 9S, you get flashbacks of their story, and you find out that the village was first formed when, very long ago, the loved leader of these machines, titled “Forest King”, decided for them to live as a “family”. They didn’t quite know what a “family” was, but it seemed like a good, cozy thing humans had, and they wanted to try it for themselves. It went well for a while — but, eventually, the King died. Not knowing any better, his subjects placed his memories in the body of a baby machine and put the baby in a crib, as they knew humans had done, hoping it would grow into a new king. Obviously, it did not, and after many years of guarding it and waiting, the machines are shown stating that they have been unsuccessful and that they are simply “too dumb to figure out what to do”. This single moment, the ridiculous innocence and sadness of it, left me the most heartbroken out of everything in the whole game.

And now, you know what? Fuck this shit, just go play the game. And don’t you dare not do all the fucking routes from A to E, like the fucking bitch who sold us our physical copy of the fucking game after getting happily-ever-after ending A. I’m fucking mad. Fucking feels. I’m out.