What Armored Core Taught Me About Love And Life

Armored Core is one of those games that changed my life. I dig giant robots, you dig giant robots we dig giant robots, chick digs giant robots, as I've said for years. But it wasn't until I'd taken down the infamous noob-killer Balteus that I ever asked myself: what does it mean to dig a giant robot? What does it mean to dig anything? 

Mecha has always served as a tool of introspection. Through Gundam we got the allegory of the ubermensch: a force that is powerful, advanced and, ultimately, human. In Gunbuster we had the question asked: what do we lose in our pursuit of the ideal? Through Evangelion we saw the mirror reflected back- what becomes of us in this process, and can the pursuit of an ideal make up for the inadequacies of the self? 

Armored Core deals with these subjects in a slightly less personable route. You are a cog in the industrial war machine, just a mercenary completing missions one after the other. It's almost to the point of frustration- in Armored Core VI you're either Handler Walter's Hound, Gun 13 or the mercenary Raven. Your self is defined by your functions to other people. But as long as there's a human holding that controller, there's an element of heart to these games- and here's what being an AC pilot has taught me about it all. 

Meet Them Halfway

Despite the flashy giant bosses, the highlights of any Armored Core game always come down to the pilot fights. Balteus is unrelatable because at no point will you obtain a hulahoop that expands into massive racks of missiles that got nerfed after launch, actually. Yet, look at the fight against true Raven- he's using the exact same loadout any other pilot might use. No unique pilebunker, just a medium biped frame with missiles, an assault rifle and, well, pilebunker. 

If my many years chasing love have taught me anything it's this- deep down we are all just fellow AC units, with all the same hardpoints as each other. We may have different builds, and that just means different needs and weaknesses to exploit. 

More importantly, you can't go through your life thinking you've got one build to fix it all. If you wanna connect to someone, maybe bypass their armor types, you need to be flexible. It wasn't until I played Verdict Day that this really made more sense: it doesn't matter how much of a whiz you are with an assault rifle, if they're using a Kinetic-resistant build you're just not going to break through that way. Seeing someone for their build, knowing what they're resistant to and not, that's the joy of human connection- and the act of finding it is often more valuable than the result itself. 

Enjoy The Ride

Now, in this woefully abstract allegory, it's important to note that I don't necessarily think winning is the endgame here. It's about extracting something meaningful- and that meaning isn't derived unless you're taking in everything as it comes instead of only worrying about your repair bill at the end of the mission. The very first time I fought Balteus, you know what I did against that now nerfed, by the way missile barrage? I soared straight up. I watched the missiles trail after me, then allowed myself to drop back down through the cloud of ballistics so I could take a crack at the boss. 

Armored Core is just so full of these cool, little moments like that. Watching my AC's legs drag across the ground as I boost towards my quarry is more romantic than flowers and champagne. Purging our empty rifle only to pull out a laser blade is the stuff mecha was made for! Forget Real love, this is Real Robots, where scarcity, weight and limitations are not hindrances, they're chances to prove your love. 

It is a beautiful imperfection, as you wear and grind against the world and ultimately pulling yourself apart. But the beauty is in the doing it. The romance is knowing you've built the perfect AC for the job at hand, or even better yet- developed the perfect playstyle to counter that mission's ask. It doesn't matter that there's no real reward for defeating Juggernaut for the umpteenth time, the point is just how good it feels to do it. Even if you haven't unlocked Rusty's secret dialogue for breaking the fight, the satisfaction is knowing that you can get the drop on Juggernaut before dropping a healthbar-clearing amount of damage on its weak point. 

Sometimes You Gotta Be Your Own Pogchamp

Of course, as probably many a mecha fan knows, sometimes it can be lonely not having to share your passions with. I've been speaking at length about my love for Armored Core for years now, only for people to not get what's so cool about me editing together MG-style decals on my robot. 

While Armored Core VI in particular has never been shy about how rad it is to have a sweet voice in your ear calling you her little pogchamp, life is not so kind as to give everyone something similar. And worse still, the more time you spend looking for someone to be that for you, the less time you have to, you know, be a pogchamp. 

So here's what you've got to do: You have to be that support you need. You have to hype yourself up, call your own plays and be the ammunition you need to get through life. 

Thankfully, even if you're not in the mood to reflect on nature and the emotional high of beating bosses with sub-optimal builds, the thrill of mecha in itself is always there for you. Armored Core 6 continues to be an excellent game, one that really rewards you for making the most of what you have. 

It's a romance of the soul, the humming of all these parts come together. Because you dig giant robots.