Path: Beta

After visiting the nurse, who tells you that the kid will be okay, you offer to wait for the bus with them. Sitting on the glass bench, you turn to them and break the silence. "I don't think I ever got your name," you say. The kid freezes but, after a moment, relaxes. "You probably won't be able to pronounce it." They say, twisting their arms together behind their head in the Olkg expression of frustration. "Probably not, but I'd like to know anyway," You stretch, looking up at the stars, the occasional ship flying by. "I can't keep thinking of you as 'sixth grader with a cool sweatshirt.'" The sixth grader with a cool sweatshirt looks up, grinning, an expression that seemed to have the same meaning to the Olkg. "My sweatshirt is pretty cool," they say, twirling their purple hoodie string around their finger. "Earth fashion is pretty cool." You smile and don't say anything, a somewhat comfortable silence cloaking you. "My name is Xksfo. But you can call me Kos," They say suddenly. "Okay, thanks," You smile, trying to be kind. Then you decide to ask the question that has been bothering you for a while. "I've noticed that you rarely eat lunch... are you okay?" Kos flinches, and you worry you've said something wrong, but they seem to calm themselves. They think for a bit, then speak. "My family doesn't really have that much money, so we eat breakfast and dinner most days, just not lunch. I didn't really think anyone noticed." [[Offer to share your lunch...]] [[Say sorry...]]

A few days later, you step out of Corgi's - the coffee shop where you work on weekends - onto a deserted street. Not a single person is walking down the sidewalk, window shopping or otherwise. Concordia isn't huge, but it isn't small either. This is //weird//. Suddenly, you hear chanting. Your bus won't be here for a while, so you decide to see what's happening. You jog down the street towards the commotion, and as soon as you turn the corner, you see a gigantic crowd of people standing in front of the town hall, carrying signs. Stunned, you hesitate for a moment, then walk forward, angling yourself to see the words. The first sign you see is just the phrase "don't alienate us" in green paint. The second says "equal rights for all", and the third "it's spaceling, not alien." A few are even written in the Olkg language. There are people everywhere - most Olkg or Jiord, but quite a few humans, too. With a burst of thought, you skim the crowd for the kid you saw the other day. After a few moments, you see them, holding no sign but chanting "equal rights" with the rest of the crowd. They raise their fists, grinning, and when they see you, their face falls. They slip into the crowd and disappear. [[Follow them and try to apologize...]] [[Leave the protest...]]

You stare at the clock's mesmerizing red hand, listening to the //tick// it makes every second. The teacher drones on and on about the Nobel Peace Prize and you ignore her. You only got five hours of sleep last night, and you don't feel like being awake for another second. Suddenly, the bell rings, and the kids around the room jump up, pull on their bookbags and rush out of the room. You force yourself to get up, pick up your bag, and leave the safety of a boring lecture. Rubbing your eyes, you head to the bathroom, kids screeching around you. When you've finished, you step out of the bathroom only to watch an eigth graders corner a seventh grader grader by the water fountain. The eigth grader, wearing a red t-shirt, steps up to him and grabs his backpack. "Filthy alien scum," he spits, shoving the seventh grader against the pristine white wall. "Go back to whatever backwater, dirty planet you came from." The seventh grader squirms and tries to get free, but they can't seem to escape the stronger boy's grip. Eventually, they go limp, as if hoping the bully will forget about them. "Now," the bully grins, "Repeat after me: "I am a slow, stupid //animal// who needs to leave this school for the dumps." [[Talk to the bully...]] [[Punch the bully...]]

For a moment, you stand there, stunned. Then, you step out of the bathroom, drop your backpack onto the ground, and walk up to the bully. "Leave them alone," you say, stepping between the two. The older kid freezes but quickly recovers. "Not they, //it//," he steps forward, trying to intimidate you, but you stand your ground. "It's an //animal//. It shouldn't -" "No. //They// are a person, and although they aren't human, they deserve just as much respect as you and every other person around you." For a moment, the bully is silent. Then, he raises his fist and aims at your head. Reflexively, you duck, forgetting that the kid is behind you - You spin around, and the kid is frozen, hands hovering above his nose, eyes wide. The bully laughs and walks away, but you ignore him. He's a jerk, and there's nothing you can do - or even want to do - to help him, but you can help the kid. "Oh crap, are you okay? Wait, no, you're bleeding -" The kid is trying to stay calm, but you can see they are shaking. You take a deep breath in, then start to walk them to the nurse's office. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- In 1964, Martin Luther King Jr. won the Nobel Peace Prize for his "non-violent struggle for civil rights". Similarly, instead of hurting the bully, you stayed calm and defended the seventh grader. One of the many ways you can act like a Peace Prize Laureate is to avoid violence, even when the person you are resisting uses it. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Continue to [[Part 2 - V2]]...

For a moment, you stand there, stunned. Then, you step out of the bathroom, drop your backpack onto the ground, and walk up to the bully. "Hello! I can see you're grilling someone about something completely out of their control," you say, stepping between the two. "I really like how you refuse to use the correct pronouns and instead refer to them as an inanimate object. I think that's worthy of absolutely NOTHING!" Your voice, which has been getting increasingly louder, is now at the point of shouting. Your cheeks red with fury, you raise your fist and punch the bully straight in the nose. They let out a short screech and stumble back, clutching their now-crooked nose. Eyes wide with fear, the bully runs. For a moment, you are silent. Then, you suck in a breath and glance down at your arm, which is turning a translucent purple. You spin around, and the kid is frozen, hands hovering above his nose, eyes wide, staring at your arm. They're trying to stay calm, but you can see them shaking. You take a deep breath in, then reach out towards them, trying to comfort them - And then they are gone. Suddenly, you realize that it wasn't the bully they were afraid of. Continue to [[Part 2 - V1]]...

Slowly, you feel a grin start to spread across your face, and you rush into the crowd, slipping between people until you reach Kos. "Hi!" Kos says, smiling so wide it looks like their head is about to explode. You wave, trying to make a space for yourself in the crowd. Once you manage to find enough room to breathe, you cross your arms and look back at Kos and realize something. Here, among so many other spacelings, Kos seems at home. Even when you guys previously hung out, they always seemed a bit uncomfortable surrounded by humans. Although there aren't many spacelings on Earth, every non-human in Concordia seems to have congregated in this square. "Are you okay?" Kos suddenly asks, breaking your train of thought. You shake your head, then adjust the motion. "Sorry, just realized something," you say. For the first time since you met them, Kos looks... well... //happy//. Frowning, you push the thought away. For now, you're going to help Kos in something far more important than their homework. You're going to protest. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Nelson Mandela and Frederik Willem de Klerk won the Peace Prize in 1993 "for their work for the peaceful termination of the apartheid regime", a set of laws that discriminated against people of color in South Africa and many other countries. Even though you only attended one protest, your participation made a difference. --------------------------------------------------------------------- That night, you have a mission. You came home from Corgi's later than usual, since you were at the protest, but managed to steer the conversation away from the lateness and towards getting social media. You don't want it to post pictures though - you're going to keep advocating. "Mom, //please//," you beg. "I'm //fifteen//! Most kids my age have at least three social media accounts!" "Most kids can afford to. Social media is dangerous. You could get bullied or even attacked for being Spaceling. It's not -" "//Safe//. Trust me, I know. But you can't ban me from going to school. I know multiple Spacelings who have been attacked there - I'm already at risk! Besides, I'm not going to advertise my heritage on social media. The Council would have a fit." Mom closes her eyes and rubs her temples. After what feels like an eternity, she stands. "Fine. You can have //one// social media account," she says, holding a finger up. "However, you are going to pretend to be human. No matter what you do, you will not say anything about your real species. I don't want you to get targeted, by the Council or the humans here." And with that, she leaves the room. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Continue[[...]]

They're gone. You're not going to be able to find them, and even if you did, they would probably just ignore you. Anyways, the bus will be here any minute now... Continue to [[Part 3 - V1]]...

You think for a moment, then nod. "You can always sit with me at lunch. My mom always packs way more food than I can eat, and my friends aren't bad, unless you hate sarcasm." Kos is silent. When they finally speak, their voice is shaky, and they say but one word - "Okay." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- The World Food Programme won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2020 for "its efforts to combat hunger". Even though it was on a much smaller scale, your simple offer of lunch when Kos needed it is helpful and similar. No matter whether Kos accepts it or not, your decision made a positive difference. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Continue to [[Part 3 - V4]]...

"That sucks," you say, shaking your head. You know that sounds inconsiderate, but you don't really know what else to say. "I would try to help, but to be honest I don't really know how." "There's not really anything you could do," Kos frowns, then smiles. "Well, unless you could dismantle capitalism. That might work." "Hmm... well, last I checked, I'm not the president, so not sure how to do that." "A violent coup!' They suggest, grinning, and so the conversation continues. Continue to [[Part 3 - V3]]...

//Path// is simple to play: read the story, make a decision and see where it takes you. Some passages have information - these tie //Path//'s story to the stories of Nobel Peace Prize winners. Here's a sample sequence: ------------------------------------------------------------------------ To continue the story, press one of the blue buttons. [[Choice 1]] [[Choice 2]]

//Path// is a story-oriented game created by Agrios Studios, an organization dedicated to the creation of interesting content. //Path//'s story was written by Arashi and its art created by Human Child, the two owners of Agrios Studios. //Path// was originally created to be submitted to the 2023 Games for Change competition within the Give Peace a Chance category. The goal of Give Peace a Chance is to learn how Nobel Peace Prize Laureates create a more peaceful and fair world and design a game that shows players how they can do the same in their day to day life. To fulfill this prompt, the peaceful choices you make within //Path// are tied to different Peace Prize laureates' stories. Additionally, the main character is in high school and everything they do is fully possible and realistic within the world we live in today, ignoring the science fiction elements. Overall, //Path// was a lot of fun to create, and Agrios Studios hopes you had/will have fun playing it. https://gamesforchange.org/studentchallenge/give-peace-a-chance/ [[Home Screen]]

[[Content Warnings]] [[How to play]] [[Creation]] [[Begin...]]

You have discovered how to play //Path//. ---------- Congratulations! At the time of my writing this, no Nobel Peace Prize winner has played this game, so there is no laureate to compare you to. ---------- If you want to play the game, head back to the home screen. [[Home Screen]]

You hesitate, then step away. You can't join the protest. If you do, you'll probably get fired, and you don't have any talents that will get you hired at another job. There's got to be another way to help... right? You sigh and turn around, wishing Kos hadn't noticed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see their face fall and then harden into a quiet, resigned fury. Continue[[....]]

Five years later, you wake to a soft but somehow harsh light trickling in through the window. Feeling the sun warm your face and burn its painful light through your eyelids, you climb out of bed, walk downstairs, and prepare a bowl of cereal. When you're done with breakfast, you wash your plate and walk towards the door. Silently, you glance towards the window, then head over. Two children are playing outside, Jiord and human, playing soccer - a somehow eternal sport - through the street. Smiling, you place your hand on the window, remembering being young and carefree - Shoot. Now you sound old. You need to stop talking to yourself. Shaking your head, you adjust your gaze to the tall bookshelf standing next to the window. In the center of the middle shelf lies a small blue case containing the Nobel Peace Prize. To be honest, you don't know if you deserve it, but it certainly gave your online advocacy a lot more publicity. Laughing quietly, you turn away from the window. As you do, you catch a glimpse of your purple eyes. Instinctively, you cover them, then remember. [[You don't have to hide anymore.]]

Rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of bed and slam the "off" button on your alarm. It's only seven A.M. and... well... you're exausted. After pouring yourself a cup of pure caffiene, you stand at the window and stare outside. There's - oh. There are two teens walking down the street together, hand in hand. You smile. Then you frown. Suddenly you wish you could've helped them. Anti-spaceling wasn't the only kind of bigotry easy to find these days, and while the world wasn't terrible, it wasn't amazing either. Those kids would have to grow up in a world where they would have to fight to show their true selves in public, just like the spacelings had to fight to walk the streets in peace. Speaking of bigotry, spacelings weren't as hated these days. Spaceline immigration was still regulated, but not as much as before the Freedom Movement. There was even an Olkg governor a few states away! Still, you wish you could've done something more. Maybe you should've helped someone other than Kos. To be honest, you wish you could just [[restart]]...

A few weeks later, you step out of Corgi's - the coffee shop where you work on weekends - onto a deserted street. Not a single person is walking down the sidewalk, window shopping or otherwise. Concordia isn't huge, but it isn't small either. This is //weird//. Suddenly, you hear chanting. Since your bus won't be here for a while, you decide to see what's happening. You jog down the street towards the commotion, and as soon as you turn the corner, you see a gigantic crowd of people standing in front of the town hall, carrying signs. Stunned, you hesitate for a moment, then walk forward, angling yourself to see the words. The first sign you see is just the phrase "don't alienate us" in green paint. The second says "equal rights for all", and the third "it's spaceling, not alien." A few are written in the Olkg language, which you can't read. There are so many people - most Olkg or Jiord, but quite a few humans - all gathered to show the world their strength. With a burst of thought, you skim the crowd for a glimpse of Kos' purple hoodie. After a few moments, you see them, holding no sign but chanting "equal rights" with the rest of the crowd. They glance around, grinning, and when they see you, they raise their hand and wave you over. [[Leave the scene...]] [[Join Kos...]]

Quickly, you check your phone. It's barely 5:50 - your bus won't be here for another ten minutes. Cursing, you dive into the crowd, pushing Jiord and humans alike, fighting for even a glimpse of the purple hoodie you just saw. And then, you see them. They've just burst through the edges of the protest and have somehow managed to reach the door of a nearby office supply shop. Barely containing a sigh of relief, you exit the crowd yourself and slip into the shop. They are standing by the index cards. You walk over, trying to appear casual so you don't scare them, and say "hi". They jump and spin around. When they see it's you, they seem equally relieved and frustrated. "Please leave me alone," they say, inching away. "Look, I'm really sorry about the other day. What that guy tried to do to you is not cool. He deserves far, far worse than what I..." you realize this isn't helping. "Okay. I wanted you to know that I'm sorry not just for you having to deal with that, but for my reaction. I didn't really think. At all." You stare at your shoes. They're pretty cool, especially since you painted the stick figures onto the sides... "It's okay. I guess I just freaked out. You have to admit, you were pretty scary though," After a moment of silence, they look up. "I'm gonna... go back to the protest." They point outside and start walking. As they leave, you suddenly turn around and speak. "Can I come with you?" Soon enough, a grin spreads across their face, and they nod. "You know, I don't think I ever got your name..." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Nelson Mandela and Frederik Willem de Klerk won the Peace Prize in 1993 "for their work for the peaceful termination of the apartheid regime", a set of laws that discriminated against people of color in South Africa and many other countries. Even though you only attended one protest, your participation made a difference. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Continue to [[Part 3 - V2]]...

As you begin to prepare the latest customer's order, you turn up the volume on the music in your earbuds and try to tune out the classical piano playing in the real world. Corgi's may be the best coffee shop around, but its choice of music is, in your opinion, questionable. You hand the latte over to the customer, accept their money, and try not to shove it in the cash register. You've had to cover for your friend's shifts for the past three days and the stress is starting to get to you. Today, another protest is in progress, this time so big the protesters have been forced to occupy this street as well as First Street. You try to casually check the time on your watch - 4:15 - as you prepare the next espresso. Suddenly, a crack splits the air, followed by a moment of silence. Then the screaming starts. Jolted awake by the sound, you shove your earbuds in a pocket and turn to the window. Outside, people are running away from the City Hall, spilling onto this road. More gunshots ring out, followed by more scattering. Everyone inside the shop shrinks away from the window, not wanting to get caught in the chaos unfolding outside. And then, a stray bullet cracks the window and continues moving, barely missing your left ear. The sound of the glass cracking was like the silence before the storm. Every person in the room seemed to freeze, waiting for something to happen, wondering if it //would// - A Jiord teen bursts through the door, fear written in xir eyes. They scan the room and when they find you and your apron marking you as the resident employee, they start talking. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened, we were just holding up signs and chanting and they just started shooting - please, I don't know where to go!" The kid is shaking and looks like xe's about to start crying. "My friend got shot in the arm, I don't know what to do." [[Run away...]] [[Help the teen...]]

Hold the frick up - someone actually got //shot//? That is way out of your league. Shaking your head, you back away from the counter. "I don't - I don't know first aid," you lie, trying desperately to find a way out of the situation. "Can someone else -?" you can't finish the sentence. Trying to hold back your tears, you spin around, unlock the back door, and run away into the alley behind Corgi's. Continue[[..........]]

Once you recover from the initial shock of the situation, you decide to get right to it. "Everyone come get behind the counter, that's probably the safest place here. I'm going to go help xem," you say and turn to the teen. "Where's your friend?" The teen nods and points outside where you now see - Oh. Oh god. There's a Jiord kid lying on the street, purplish red blood streaming onto the concrete around xir arm. Xe looks barely twelve. You rush outside and, hoping to not get shot, sprint over to the kid. Squeezing your eyes shut, you pull xem to xir feet and loop their good arm around your back, letting them lean on you. Together, you hobble back to the coffee shop, pushing the door open with your left elbow. Only when the kid is safely on the ground behind the counter do you dare speak. "Where does it hurt?" you ask, trying to keep the kid upright. After a minute, xe look down and point at their arm. Forcing a small smile onto your face, you rephrase the question. "Anywhere else?" When xe shake xir head, you tell someone to call the ambulance and press a towel to the wound. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- One of the first people to win the Nobel Peace Prize was Henry Dunant in 1901. He won the prize "for his humanitarian efforts to help wounded soldiers". Like Dunant organzing the population of Solferino to help the injured, you organized the customers to call an ambulance and get emergency supplies. Although it was only one person, you saved the teen's life. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Continue[[.........]]

Two hours later, the protest is over and you're sitting on a bench, waiting for a bus. The next one won't be here for half an hour, as the after-school bus rush is over, so you decide to pull out your phone. After answering your mom's many worried messages, you check Chitter and start scrolling through the "Recommended" posts. It's peaceful, until Chitter apparently runs out of good recommendations and throws a post by user "surviving high school" at you: "working at the local office supplies store when people start to gather outside the city hall, which is on the same street, and protest for 'spaceling rights'. i don't understand why they want to vote, it's not like there are any spacelings running for governor. besides, why don't they just go back where they came from? they have a whole galaxy to conquer!" You drop your phone into your lap and groan. What makes them think this is an okay thing to post? Sighing, you shake your head and stare up at the sky. [[Try to explain...]] [[Don't reply...]]

You hesitate, then step away. You can't join the protest. You'll probably get fired, and you don't have any talents that will get you hired at another job. There's got to be another way to help... right? You sigh and turn around, wishing Kos hadn't noticed you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see their face fall and then harden into a quiet, resigned fury. Continue[[......]]

You're sitting at the kitchen table, eating cereal, when your phone starts to ring. Unlocking it, you see that it's Kos! Smiling, you read the text: "Hey. Drove by your house a minute ago and saw that you weren't outside - going to pick up Berr and come back." You tell them that you woke up a bit late, then head upstairs to take a quick shower. Once you're done, you stand at the window, waiting for the carpool crew to arrive. Outside, the road is dusty, and although grass lines the sidewalks it's mostly brown. Still, it's the best life has been in a while. Two weeks ago, spacelings were given the right to vote in your state, and it shouldn't be long before the same happens for the federal level. Even so, anti-spaceling bigotry is still alive and well in this universe. There are a lot of people who have a lot of hate to give, and spacelings aren't allowed to run for government offices anywhere yet. You wonder what would happen if you just [[restart]]ed...

Rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of bed and slam the "off" button on your alarm. It's only seven A.M. and... well... you're exausted. After pouring yourself a cup of pure, harsh caffiene, you stand at the window and stare outside. It's empty and gray, the only difference from the sky above being the absence of spaceships. Looking upwards, the ships zoom through the sky like an old action movie. It took a while, but spaceling immigrants are way more common than the old days when Kos was the only obvious spaceling at your school. Life isn't perfect, but you still sometimes wish you could just [[restart]]. Maybe, if you did things a bit differently, it would be better...

Not many people have seen the post yet, and no one seems to be calling the poster out. After a moment of consideration, you decide to reply. It takes you a bit, but finally you decide on this: "Firstly, contrary to most sci-fi novels, both science and spacelings tell us that there aren't all that many habitable planets in the universe. It takes a lot of things to make a planet habitable, and even with the prescence of all these things the planet would still have to be somewhat close to the colonizer species' homeplanet to make it viable. Secondly, most countries - and especially the U.S. - include parts of their constitutions and/or mottos that say something along the lines of "freedom for all". This includes physical freedom - such as walking out your front door - and although the wording is a little off here, what John Locke calls 'basic human rights'. If these freedoms aren't actually for everyone, then how can these countries - and us in general - claim to be honest?" After editing out most of the snark, you tap the reply button. Hopefully, this will change the poster's - or at least someone's - opinion about spacelings. If not, though, at least it made you feel a bit better. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Cordell Hull won the Peace Prize in 1945 for his "indefatigable work for international understanding". Like Hull, you tried to help someone understand an issue, which helped them not just understand said issue (in this case, habitable planets in space and freedom for all) but understand the people effected by the issue. ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Continue[[.......]]

You roll your eyes but decide not to say anything. Arguing will probably just make them angry and that's not something you want to deal with. Plus, you suppose everyone's entitled to their own opinions, even if they're incredibly prejudiced. Continue[[........]]

Rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of bed and slam the "off" button on your alarm. It's only seven A.M. and... well... you're exausted. After pouring yourself a cup of pure, harsh caffiene, you stand at the window and stare outside. A teen in a purple hoodie is walking down the street, hands in their pockets, slumped as if trying to hide. They look exactly like Kos did. You lurch away from the window, shaking your head. Kos stopped going to school in eleventh grade. A week after their disappearance, you decided to check on them. When you arrived on their street, their house was simply... gone. No indication of anything ever having been there. You have to assume that Kos and their family had left for a better, less prejudiced planet - but something inside you doesn't know for sure. Sometimes, you just want to [[restart]] and see if you could convince them to stay - or save them from something much worse...

Five years have passed since the day rioters stormed Concordia, and you still remember every detail. The teen survived, but not without physical therapy and a lot of rest. Five years have passed since the day the United Federation of Humankind closed off all spaceline immigration to Earth, and things are tense. Most of the time, the police don't even count spaceling hate crimes as crimes - and when they do, it's only because they need the bail money. That's all you can think about as you stare out the window of your small flat in New York City, the center of it all, where the street is barren and the sky gray. You remember the day you moved here - four years ago - in a much brighter, bluer time. You remember breathing in the somewhat fresh air and finally feeling at home. You remember Kos, who disappeared in eleventh grade along with most of the other spacelings. Sometimes, you wish you could just [[restart]] and see if things went differently.

Five years later, you stare outside the window of your flat in New York City. It's small, but it's bulletproof, which, at this point, is what matters. There are two people fighting outside, but that's not unusual or even the least of it. The United Federation of Humankind has declared war on every spaceling species they've met, and what few nations aren't supporting the war are still being destroyed from the inside out by rioters. A few spacelings have made it through the immigration blockades and made a life on Earth, but it's always short and painful. Better to just hide. Sometimes, you wish you could just [[restart]] and see if maybe, just maybe, things would be different...

You wake in a cold, stark, room. It's bright, uncomfortably bright, but you can somehow still see. Above you, a blurry sillouhette holds a rectangular shape and, all of a sudden, you can hear them. The first half of what they say is incoherent, but suddenly you can make out their words - " - informed that you requested a timeline reset, to which the Council unanimously agreed. In compliance with their vote, your memories will be kept and documented, while all else's will be reset to five years earlier. If you fail to fix this, you will continue to try until all goes well or you give up and we choose another." Suddenly, the world cuts to black, and you hear a cool, calm voice recite - "The timeline will now be reset." [[Begin...]]

THANK YOU FOR PLAYING PATH! we know it's a short game, but we hope you enjoyed playing and discovering the easter eggs, although they may be a tad too obvious. path was created by //arashi// and //human child//, who hope you loved the story, the art and the lesson. we also hope that you learned something, whatever that may be. again, thank you for playing! if you'd like to see more of our work, check out our website (https://agriosstudios.wixsite.com/agrios-studios)! Back to the [[Home Screen]]...

This game contains acts of violence, prejudice and bigotry. If you are sensitive to any of these things, please exit the game. We included them to try and create a more realistic game, but it is your choice whether to play it. Please stay safe and have fun, no matter whether you decide to play //Path// or not!