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Grinning Colossus
Our hero did not choose to be made, nor to begin this quest. Existence was chosen for them, and the world that lies around them existed before that creation ever happened. Instead, they were forced into this role by an implement beyond their control, one which has nothing to do with their world beyond this point of original creation.
Click.
And yet despite having no input into it we are all dropped into this world just the same.
Our hero is told what they are to do, and instinctively is aware of how to move. Being able to move left and right, they have a choice. But ultimately, it's just an illusion of a choice.
Behind them is nothing but a wall, after all.
They're given the information they need to live in this world.
Although, not all of it… Is this wall where the path ends? In a world of only left and right, it would be.
But the world requires the hero to do what they are told to do. Thus, up must be an option. They have learned they are able to jump. But wait… the instructions mentioned weapons, didn't they?
Yes. Some experimentation, and the hero learns to wield their weapon. Gripping it in hand, they hope to use it to make their mark upon the world. To find some grander meaning to everything. They were told it was useless, but still… perhaps.
They pay no heed to the instruction. The hero will decide for themselves.
And so, they approach their given destiny. Their enjoyment is suggested, encouraged, but notably not required.
The hero approaches their destiny, a seemingly-grand chamber waiting at the end of that hallway.
But the hero can no sooner enter the room than the way out is closed off to them. They can never return to the blissful 'before.' They have been given their purpose, and now it is expected that they act upon it.
Before them stands the Grinning Colossus. Its exact meaning varies from person to person, but ultimately it is the oppressor and the goal all in one. It stares off into the sky, indifferent to the hero's very existence.
Confident in themselves, the hero attempts to use the power they hold within to carve their mark into the grand and indifferent world they find themselves facing.
It does nothing. The world fails to even notice the weak cries of a baby bird, fallen from its Nest.