I've faced some hard decisions in interactive entertainment. Several of my selections in Life is Strange still haunt me. Ghost of Tsushima's ending section made me set down my controller for around ten minutes while I weighed my alternatives. I am responsible for numerous Krogan fatalities in the Mass Effect series that I regret deeply. Not one of those instances hold a candle to what could be the most difficult decision I've ever made in gaming — and it concerns a giant staircase.
The Game Baby Steps, the recent title from the creators of Ape Out, isn’t exactly a decision-focused experience. Definitely not in typical gaming terms. You must explore a expansive environment as the main character Nate, a onesie-wearing manchild who can barely stand on his shaky limbs. It seems like one big ragebait joke, but Baby Steps’s strength comes from its deceptively impactful story that will surprise you when it's most unexpected. There’s no situation that showcases that quality like one major choice that remains on my mind.
Some scene setting is required here. Baby Steps starts when Nate is magically whisked away from his parents’ basement and into a fantasy world. He soon realizes that moving around in it is a struggle, as years spent as a couch potato have weakened his muscles. The slapstick elements of it all arises from players controlling Nate gradually, trying to keep his ragdoll body standing.
Nate requires assistance, but he has trouble voicing that to anyone. As he progresses, he meets a collection of quirky personalities in the world who each propose to help him out. A self-assured trekker seeks to provide Nate a map, but he awkwardly refuses in the game’s most hilarious scene. When he drops into an inescapable pit and is given a way out, he strives to appear nonchalant like he can manage alone and truly prefers to be trapped in the pit. During the narrative, you encounter plenty of frustrating vignettes where Nate makes life harder for himself because he’s too self-conscious to take support.
This culminates in Baby Steps game’s one true moment of choice. As Nate approaches the conclusion his adventure, he discovers that he must climb to the top of a frosty elevation. The de facto groundskeeper of the world (who Nate has consistently evaded up to this point) appears to inform him that there are two paths upward. If he’s prepared for difficulty, he can opt for a particularly extended and hazardous route named The Manbreaker. It is the most intimidating challenge Baby Steps game provides; taking it seems inadvisable to any human.
But there’s a other possibility: He can just walk up a gigantic spiral staircase in its place and reach the summit in just moments. The only caveat? He’ll have to call the groundskeeper “Master” from now on if he chooses the simple path.
I am absolutely sincere when I say that this is an agonizing choice in the game's narrative. It’s all of Nate’s insecurities about himself reaching a climax in a single ridiculous instant. Part of Nate’s journey is revolves around the reality that he’s self-conscious of his physique and male identity. Every time he sees that impressive outdoorsman, it’s a difficult memory of all he lacks. Taking on The Obstacle could be a time where he can prove that he’s as able as his one-sided rival, but that road is bound to be laden with more humiliating failures. Is it justified struggling just to demonstrate something?
The stairs, on the contrary, give Nate another big moment to decide between receiving aid or refusing it. The user doesn't get to decide in whether or not they decline guidance, but they can decide to allow Nate some relief and take the stairs. It should be an simple decision, but Baby Steps is exceptionally cunning about making you feel paranoid anytime you find a gift horse. The game world contains intentional pitfalls that turn a safe route into a setback suddenly. Could the steps one more trick? Could Nate reach all the way to the top just to be let down by an ending prank? And even worse, is he willing to be emasculated once again by being forced to call some weirdo Lord?
The brilliance of that instant is that there’s no perfect selection. Either one leads to a authentic instance of protagonist evolution and catharsis for Nate. If you decide to take on The Manbreaker, it’s an philosophical victory. Nate at last receives a opportunity to demonstrate that he’s as able as others, consciously choosing a difficult route rather than suffering through one that he has no choice but to follow. It’s hard, and perhaps unwise, but it’s the bit of empowerment that he craves.
But there’s no embarrassment in the staircase either. To select that route is to finally allow Nate to receive assistance. And when he does, he realizes that there’s no hidden trick in store for him. The stairs aren’t a prank. They extend for some distance, but they’re straightforward to ascend and he won't slip to the bottom if he trips. It’s a easy journey after lengthy difficulty. Midway through, he even has a conversation with the hiker who has, of course, chosen to take The Manbreaker. He attempts to act casual, but you can see that he’s fatigued, subtly ruing the unnecessary challenge. By the time Nate gets to the top and has to meet his agreement, calling the character Lord, the deal hardly seems so bad. Who has concern for humiliation by this freak?
In my playthrough, I selected the steps. A portion of my thinking just {wanted to call
A tech strategist with over a decade of experience in digital innovation and AI-driven solutions for global enterprises.