By Anonymous

That which has become hard shall not triumph.

I pity anyone trying to “understand” the story of S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2: Heart of Chornobyl. It’s the sequel to three niche cult hits with an infamously difficult barrier to entry. It uses its source material as a jumping-off point for a deep, heartfelt exploration of human nature and our relationship to the unknown. It has you make choices for several groups of people, affecting their lives in often disastrous ways. And it’s about outside powers fighting over what isn’t theirs while the people inhabiting the zone can’t find common ground. 

Current times make it rather easy to see that the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. games series is a microcosm for Ukraine’s ongoing struggle to exist. There is a lot of external reading required to forge the skeleton key that unlocks what the titles are trying to say. But despite that, or perhaps because of it I think S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2 Heart of Chornobyl is better felt than fully understood.

Just like the novel (Roadside Picnic) and the movie (Stalker) the games are based on, the science fiction describing the workings of the zone is just there as a framing device. The zone itself is more of a thought experiment that confronts its characters and world with the unexplainable and a means for us to escape from the mundane into a space free of the norms that usually trap us. Its mysteries are enticing, but they remain out of reach for a reason. They are not meant to be understood or explained. Trying to do so in our lore-obsessed media hellscape would defeat the purpose of the zone: reflection and confrontation with the self and the human condition.

While the first three S.T.A.L.K.E.R. games are more concerned with presenting the zone as a cryptic, lived-in place that defies explanation, they still tell three unique stories that all barrel towards the same conclusion: “You are not in control here.” Even protagonist Strelok, who, at least in the canon ending, defies the higher powers trying to play him, ends up with more questions than answers. 

Then Heart of Chornobyl picks up ten years after the events of the previous games. But if the original trilogy was adapting the zone described in the Strugatskys book, S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2 swings more towards Tarkovsky’s movie adaptation. Your character Skif is initially cast as a neutral observer who enters the zone out of sheer desperation and gets entangled in the aftermath of Shadow of Chornobyl’s story, just another Stalker like all the rest. You meet characters from previous titles and see how the politics within the zone have changed.

But there is a notable shift in the way the game presents its narrative. You’re often asked for your opinion and made to choose who you side with, often without much context to what is happening and accidentally shifting the delicate balance of power within the zone. The story itself might be once again a glorified McGuffin hunt that uses the previous titles as a stepping stone, but it asks some interesting questions along the way.

Within the S.T.A.L.K.E.R. universe, none of the factions are portrayed as good or bad. They all have very sensible morals, all of them have blood on their hands, and everyone in between is just trying to get by. Heart of Chornobyl takes this a step further by having you try and play all sides, which makes you eventually sympathetic to one cause or another. It makes it very clear that no one is wrong, but no one is right, either. But your choices will eventually affect the delicate balance of power within the zone, and the lives of many people who live there, and rarely for the better considering the amount of bodies you have to step over to get there. It’s something you seldom see in video games, which are often focused on making the player feel good about their choices, or morally scolding them with a wink and a nudge. At the end of a S.T.A.L.K.E.R. game, you’re often left with a feeling of defeat. You survived the zone and uncovered some of its secrets, but the truth is still out there and while trying to find it, you made everyone else’s lives a little more miserable.

You don’t get experience points from killing people; you just go through their valuables to push deeper into this marvelous, horrible place. You’re forced to recognize that just about anything you’re facing, be it mutant or bandit, is a victim of circumstance just like you. And you can’t grasp the consequences of your actions until you’re forced to face them hours later. Killing someone to get what you want might block you out of easier solutions later.

Eventually, you’ll have to pick sides, fight people you have no quarrel with, who deserve better than what they are given, and make a choice. A choice that will first and foremost benefit you and your limited view of the world, no matter how much you’re trying to justify it to yourself after the fact.  Who are you to decide? Who are you to choose who has a right to exist and who doesn’t? Whose unhappiness is worth your comfort and joy? You don’t know; you can’t possibly understand.

The conclusion S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2 reaches in each of its endings is in line with that. Despite your best efforts, you’re not in control here. At best you’ve enabled nebulous powers to bring an uncertain future; at worst you’ve made a madman’s fever dream a reality. In the world outside the zone, something as simple as buying a cup of coffee has similar ripple effects, even if they’re much smaller and play out on a grander scale.

We make these choices every day, even if we’re sometimes not aware of them. A piece of art like S.T.A.L.K.E.R. 2: Heart of Chornobyl can make us aware of that. Remind us to be kinder. If you let it show you around, listen to more than you want to hear, and open yourself to what the zone has to show you, you might find something that will stay with you for the rest of your life.