As you read last week, Charissa is in the British Isles. Filling in at Fanning Out this week is video game expert Nick Rose.

With the release of Transformers: Age of Extinction upon us, I thought it necessary to look at a set of related Transformers media: the “Cybertron” video game series. While the first two installments were not directly related to Michael Bay’s previous films, which had their own exclusive video game tie-ins, the next installment in the “Cybertron” series, Rise of the Dark Spark, acts as a sequel to the previous games while also tying into the upcoming film. Confused yet?

Let’s be honest here. 2010’s War for Cybertron and its 2012 sequel Fall of Cybertron were marketing ploys. Aware of the commercial success of Bay’s films, High Moon Studios developed games that might serve as loose prequels to the films while also giving fans some gun-toting, wheel-spinning robot action in a different medium. This article is part-review and part-retrospective of the first two games. Ultimately, the “Cybertron” series differs from the films in that the critical debates over loyalty to a particular continuity are not as important as having a blast … literally.

War for Cybertron (WFC), as its title suggests, begins by thrusting players into the civil war that is an integral part of several Transformers incarnations (take your pick). Though most sources will agree it fits best with the “Aligned” continuity family, conventions from “Generation 1” are also present. The first half of the campaign is from the Decepticons‘ point of view, covering Megatron’s harnessing of Dark Energon to defeat current Autobot leader Zeta Prime and eventually corrupt the very core of the planet. While Megatron is undoubtedly the head honcho, his rivalry with fellow Decepticon Starscream is given significant attention, sometimes to laughable effects. Each robot may carry two weapons and possesses a special combat ability. A simple press of the joystick sends your character effortlessly twisting into his vehicle form, be it a weaponized Cybertronian car, truck, or jet.

The campaign’s second half puts you on the other side of the action. The Autobots, their capital city in ruins after the defeat of Zeta Prime and gargantuan defender Omega Supreme, struggle to halt Megatron’s plans. When they learn of their planet’s fate, all efforts are devoted to evacuating the planet while still mopping up any remaining Decepticon threats. An added bonus comes from original Optimus Prime voice actor Peter Cullen reprising his role. Longtime fans will certainly appreciate the confident eloquence he brings to the character. Other popular Autobots like Bumblebee, Ironhide, Warpath, Ratchet, Jetfire, and Sideswipe make appearances as well, most of them playable. The winner of best game sequence goes to an action-packed later mission in which Jetfire leads an assault against a Decepticon orbital weapon that transforms into the game’s final boss, Trypticon.

War for Cyberton‘s story ends inconclusively, most definitely leaving things open for a sequel. For those who tire of the campaign, WFC introduces what has become another staple of the series. In the online multiplayer mode “Escalation”, up to five players must survive against increasingly difficult waves of enemies.

In WFC, Trypticon is produced from the planet’s infected core. Photo source: Gameinformer.com

Two short years later, Fall of Cybertron (FOC) was released. To switch things up from last time, players now begin as Autobots and pick up with the Decepticons later. As with most sequels, the cast is expanded in this outing. Two additions hyped by the game’s reveal trailer were that of Decepticon Bruticus (formed by the Combaticons) and the fan favorite Grimlock for the Autobots. The campaign’s structure is more varied as well, placing you in control of about a dozen different characters by the time the end credits roll. Everything about FOC is bigger, louder, and oh-so-glorious in its execution. New enemy types like the Decepticon Leaper or Guardian challenge players, but the formula to defeat them is easily executed after a first try. A reformatted weapons system allows players to carry one primary and one “heavy” weapon for tougher enemies. Once blueprints for these weapons have been recovered, players can access them from an in-game store.

Cinematic trailer for FOC. Video source: YouTube

Fall of Cybertron’s biggest improvements come in the departments of sound and mechanics. Transforming is just as simple as in the first game, but vehicle movement is superbly more fluid. High Moon made sure to include more areas that require players to navigate in vehicle form. The opening of chapter 3 sees Optimus being escorted by the massive Metroplex through Iacon city’s ruins. Danish composer Troel Brun Folmann’s score for the second game definitely channels Steve Jablonsky’s work from the live-action films. Key moments on both sides of the campaign are complemented by the music’s epic feel, especially in the explosive final battle that bounces between faction perspectives. The adventure concludes with the Autobot’s escape vessel, The Ark, being sucked through a space bridge.

Impressive and enjoyable as they are, both games are not without their respective downsides. As third-person shooters, they are not groundbreaking in any way. Players expecting anything cerebral or challenging beyond the occasional boss fight might be disappointed. Also, both games encourage cover but lack the sophistication to perform it properly, à la Gears of War. None of these drawbacks ruin the overall experience, and I recommend them to anyone willing to shut off their brain for hour or five.

Megatron fights against the Autobot’s mightiest defender, Omega Supreme, in War for Cybertron. Photo source: IGN.com

I suppose the bulk of my enjoyment stems from the fact that the “Cybertron” games seem to possess a meta-knowledge of what they are. They’re two more installments in a media franchise inspired by toys. Are we meant to take more seriously Optimus’ and Megatron’s philosophical banter on freedom and destiny, even if it is expertly performed? Is a tear to be shed when Metroplex sacrifices himself so his Autobot allies can escape their crumbling home world? Maybe a little. Not to downplay storytelling in games, but it seems many fans feel those deeper considerations toward theme, story, and “accurate” characterizations are better suited for discussions of Bay’s films.

Rise of the Dark Spark, released Tuesday for both current-gen and previous-gen consoles, will merge the formerly stand-alone “Cybertron” universe with that of Bay’s films. Screenshots and trailers suggest that its game design and physics with be very similar to Fall of Cybertron’s “Havok” engine, with developer Edge of Reality taking over for High Moon. Early reviews range from mediocre to downright negative, unfortunately, I’ll reserve judgment until I play the actual game, but all signs point to Dark Spark as a rush job that may potentially tarnish this game franchise’s otherwise decent reputation.

In 2009, a competition on the somethingawful.com forums challenged users to create paranormal images. Victor Surge, using little more than creativity and Photoshop, authored the photo above (click here for full image).

Other users, taking note of the strange figure’s elongated limbs and exaggerated features, named it “The Slender Man.” Within weeks, Slender Man became a viral sensation. As memes are specially equipped for mutation and adaptation, other web users offered their own versions of Slender Man in photographs, short fiction, and videos. Some, like the Marble Hornets YouTube series, garnered widespread attention and soon became the go-to source for Slenderlore.

Many fans were introduced to Slender Man through the hugely popular video game Slender: The Eight Pages. Developed by Blue Isle Studios in 2012, The Eight Pages is a free, downloadable title that improves upon its simple predecessor, Slender.

The game included many conventions of the survival horror genre: limited resources, investigative features, and an ongoing sense of dread. From a first-person perspective, players were challenged to locate eight pages hidden in a darkened forest. Slender Man’s pursuit of the players becomes more pronounced and erratic as each page is recovered.

An impressive audio system of ambient sounds adds to an engaging aesthetic of fear. In a game market that has become burdened by developers who needlessly try to meld action and horror into convoluted, run-and-gun campaigns, The Eight Pages brings a measure of innovation, even with its “less is more” design.

Slender: The Eight Pages also moves horror games in another positive direction. The pages the player is tasked with finding change locations with each play-through. Though there are limits to how many different spots each one will be hidden in, there is a certain level of fresh suspense to each game session. Of course, the faceless, teleporting, otherworldly entity on the player’s tail adds to that feeling. Overall, these variables border on something I have long waited to see in the horror game sub-genre, and that is an “adaptive” horror experience.

To further explain, we might look at a similar concept. Adaptive difficulty has been around for well over a decade. It describes a process of an artificial intelligence’s internal, real-time reaction to external activity. As early as the mid-2000s, video games were given the capability to “react” to a player’s actions, dialing back the difficulty of certain in-game scenarios and increasing it for others in an effort to create a more varied gameplay experience.

However, most gamers can tell you that several play-throughs of certain games ultimately enables them to decode these internal patterns and reverse the efforts of the AI. While certain sequences may still give players a hard time, their conditioning to a game’s parameters will almost always allow them to advance without struggle.

Adaptive difficulty is featured more in multiplayer modes that do not include many scripted, narrative events (as a story campaign often does). A good example is Valve’s 2008 zombie shooter Left 4 Dead. Though a single-player campaign is possible, this game was clearly intended to be a cooperative effort where up to four players can team up to lay waste to an overwhelming number of zombies and “Special Infected,” like the bloated, bullet-sponges called Boomers.

There is no set pattern to the enemies’ attacks, and there are many moments when players will find themselves completely surrounded. The game adapts to encourage or impede players’ rates of success.

I’d be interested to see developers create a game that included an adaptive brand of horror rather than difficulty. Many of the frightening moments in franchises like Dead Space and Resident Evil follow a script. Once they happen, players know to expect them.

What if such a game existed in which each scare and spine-tingling moment occurred randomly? What if we couldn’t predict each window-shattering attack? What if game environments were so fluid that literally every inch of physical space was open to enemy attacks? Imagine every play-through of a game including a potential threat around every corner.

Slender: The Eight Pages and its sequel, Slender: The Arrival, are steps in the right direction. Outlast, recently ported to PlayStation 4, remains a fresh entry in the genre but still fails to re-create its initial play-through’s scares. Since 2012, there have been rumors of a game called Sound of Silence, an offering that will read players’ choices to create a setting catered to their specific fears. The extent of the game’s ability to do so has only been shown in brief previews, and no demo yet exists. Reports suggest we could see a release sometime this year.

As media in the business of haunting becomes more formulaic, weighed down by clichés, remakes, and “re-imaginings” (a rallying term used by the unoriginal), what we need is an art form with a clear sense of what we fear. As the next generation of game consoles gets off its feet, we are seeing technology capable of renewing the horror genre.

The newness of adaptive difficulty has faded. Let’s turn creativity toward readapting the entire gameplay experience, especially in horror games. After all, regardless of how we dress it up or the level of gore we cake it in, we have and always will fear that one thing: the unknown.