8 Minutes Later — God of War: Ascension Multi-Player

Rambler
Pardon my rust; it’s been a while since I’ve done one of these 8 Minutes Later gigs. No joke, I started the timer while God of War: Ascension was still in plastic wrap. Classic rookie mistake.

Once I did get rolling, I was forced to sit through a console update, a game update, and an extensive life update. Apparently, I haven’t lived in a while — that last one was a doozy. I know I should get out more, but these stupid video games keep pulling me back in.


GoW updating

What the heck… I still had AOL running in the background?

After the updates, I had to input an online multiplayer pass code, the special 300 Armor of Leonidas code, the Last of Us demo code (which also unlocks Zeus and Isaac Clarke for PlayStation All-Stars Battle Royale), and 14 other codes that did Zeus knows what. None of them refilled my beer or credited my PSN account the $40 dollars I spent on PlayStation All-Stars Battle Royale, which was pretty disappointing.

By then, I was 45 minutes deep into my God of War: Ascension experience.

I restarted the timer and sat through a cutscene introducing my avatar: a pasty, bald meatslab with a slight case of alopecia, a strong affinity to bondage-play, and a complete disdain for pants. Needless to say, I was on board.

Meet your multi-player avatar... Mr. Clean!!

Meet your multi-player avatar… Mr. Clean!!

The next scene was classic God of War, a Quick Time Event. But something was a little off — I don’t know if a new developer took over the franchise or what, but they didn’t seem to have a firm grasp of the whole Quick Time Event process.

I stood there, helplessly witnessing my avatar watching a massively sharp crab claw screaming directly toward him. As this giant (yet incredibly delicious) homing missile bore down on his lily-white meatface, there were no corresponding buttons to press.

I know how God of War is supposed to work; Kratos would have been on semi-autopilot, dodging the massive crab leg and tearing it off with extreme prejudice, before cracking it open to sup upon the tasty meats within. I’m not sure if I missed a button prompt or what, but ummm, yeah, I died.

Deliciously deadly!

Deliciously deadly!

Sometimes I suck at games, but I’m going to go ahead and chalk this untimely ending up to a random game design flaw. I was ready to move on and fortunately, moving on meant I was teleported to a mountaintop for a brief tutorial where I learned how to fight like a man. A man who was still not wearing any pants.

After a quick recap of combat basics, I decided to skip the graduate course and let my success on the battlefield be determined by my advanced intellect and supreme button-mashing abilities. And since pants still weren’t on the agenda, I felt pretty comfortable about the situation.

God of War: Ascention Pants: Optional

God of War: Ascention
Pants: Optionalmpus

Then a strange thing happened: I found religion. Okay, it was kind of forced upon me, but the game made me choose my one, true God.

(Umm… I’m not sure if the developers knew this, but I bought God of War to watch my virtual hands commit digital murder in the bloodiest, most violent ways possible — whilst ogling digitized lady parts in the single-player campaign as a bonus —  so why does it want to know my moral stance and spiritual alliance?)

Zeus, Ares, Hades, and Poseidon all had specific gifts for me in exchange for pimping their cause, but a little research on the topic made the choice painfully clear.

I’m not sure why the developers narrowed the field down to these four inbreds, but you would have to be an absolute idiot not to pick Zeus. He’s the God king of this subset of immature morons; that has to count for something. And have you ever read anything about this guy?

Let me break it down for you: Zeus is stone cold crazy.

You mess with the Zeus, you get the horns

You mess with the Zeus, you get the horns

You don’t mess with The Zeus. He might just turn himself into a bull and impregnate your mother, sister, girlfriend, or wife (or all of them simultaneously, even when they’re different people!) for the sole purpose of birthing a Minotaur baby that will grow up to someday crush your skull into a thousand bloody pieces. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll just morph into some other creature to mate with someone else you love. Do you want all that beastiality weighing on your conscience?

Not me, so I chose to worship at the altar of Zeus… aaaaand there goes the timer!

In closing, I’m not sure what the future holds after my revealing 16 minute experience of God of War: Ascension’s multi-player, and I’m not quite sure that I want to know. After all, I only chose my God to selfishly avoid facing the adolescent wrath of an oafish man-cow who was going to (and probably still will) impregnate my loved ones.

Anyway, I digress. I’ve been tasked with spreading this particularly sick brand of gospel, so it’s time to hop online and show some fools what it’s like to be on the wrong end of my lord and savior. Good luck with that, everybody. I wish you safe passage.

This guy kicks ass for the Lord... and now, so can you!!

This guy kicks ass for the Lord… and now, so can you!!


Did you forget to open God of War before you started playing it? Leave a comment below, or hit me up on twitter and tell me about it. Don’t forget to join the Did Not Finish Facebook page. Also, feel free to Email me.

About Tony Lorenzen

Tony Lorenzen, a.k.a. the Midnite Rambler, may just be a bad enough dude to rescue the president... but he's still no Snake Plissken.