CrossCode and TOME; when an online game is your whole world
August 21, 2024
I TOLD MY FRIENDS ID WRITE THIS for both myself and also the five people familiar with both pieces of media. Spoilers for both the video game CrossCode and the web series TOME!
I recently finished CrossCode's A New Home DLC, and while playing the base game couldn't shake that CrossCode had a few similarities with a series I remember fondly from my younger years; the web animated series TOME, namely in its last 1/3rd. Both series start out going through the motions of friends playing in an online game, but build up to a conspiracy about the discovery of benign artificial life and a villainous staff member who seeks to utilize this secret in the name of profit. The demo release of CrossCode precedes the final episode of TOME by about a year, and it's extremely safe to say these similarities are mere coincidence; they're mostly surface and both pieces of media differ tremendously in their inspirations (TOME's MMO setting is in part because it draws from Dot Hack, for one; CrossCode being an MMO was actually a secondary idea to serve the gameplay and it was inspired more by Xenosaga).
But both series also deal in their own unique ways with what it means to play online with people you care about, as well as the love people have as both players and creators.
CrossCode's main benefit is framing its ideas through Lea, who is easily one of the most likable main characters I've ever experienced. You want to see her happy, everyone else wants to see her happy! Lea cannot communicate traditionally and possesses an extremely limited vocabulary, but she nonetheless goes on this huge MMO journey and meets friends like Emilie who play with her, are patient with her, and help her through tough times. When all your support is online, it can really feel like your entire world is there. CrossCode's stakes aren't high at all until the absolute end, and even then level of threat is a bit abstract-feeling; but it emphasizes a heavy human component through the framing of Lea playing this MMO.
What's especially awesome is the fun little midgame twist in Lea being an A.I.; the game is literally her entire world. And this doesn't undermine a single thing! Lea is still a deeply human character, who just so happens to not be capable of manifesting outside the game. Even with this twist in mind, she can still just as easily be interpreted as a disabled person or someone severely bedridden who gets away from that by playing FFXIV or WoW. In terms of the whole "games bring us together and this online world can be everything for us" aspect and really sending that idea home, Lea as a character really does right by it. She never speaks a full sentence of dialogue but you can feel through the whole game how grateful she is for the experiences she's had with the people she cares about.
Lea's problems in CrossCode are a bit out of the norm, but the way she works through them with her friends is anything but unrealistic.
TOME on the other hand focuses more on the differing, motivated personalities in a group and what an online escape means to a much more contemporary cast of characters. Or rather, true to its more action shonen-like sensibilities, it emphasizes how far a group of friends are willing to go for the world they care about (pretty damn far!)
In comparison though, I think it wobbles much more because the series' character writing fails to further convey that core; specifically, Alpha as a main character makes for a very wobbly focal point in comparison. Alpha has an initially unconfident and insecure outlook, which causes him to make a pact with a dangerous virus inside the game out of a fear that he'll lose his friends. The series ends with a more confident Alpha asserting the importance of fighting for his friends, and convincing the virus to make a pact with him instead. The start is promising, and the end is satisfying enough, but the middle feels missing. It fails to emphasize how significant it is that Alpha is afraid of losing the people around him, and exactly what kinds of experiences he got from playing this MMO that he'd never had before. TOME is comparatively caught in its kids-action-anime stylings, and as a result focuses a lot more time on the angst and struggle of Alpha dealing with the virus inside of him, distancing the story from the more tangible human aspect of his character.
Though what plagues TOME's Alpha starts with relatable issues such as a fear of abandonment, the focus ends up being largely on the external threat of the virus, and these internal character struggles are left to the side.
One big reason for this issue is Mr. Chris Niosi (who is also a contentious figure to say the least, but you can dig in on your own as I won't be going over it here) has a bit of a "telling" problem with writing the series. Alpha does use all of his words to say plainly how happy he is that he met friends in TOME and how big that is for him, but I don't believe the series is great at making you feel this. There's also a brief snippet of a convo we hear near the end of Season 1 where he remembers some kids who made fun of him for being introverted; but again, we only hear dialogue, and never get a proper grasp on the depth of his insecurity and what he values through his actions and portrayal. If we did, we could have a story that more strongly cements the value that game has to him and by extension what games have to people.
The finale of the series tries to bring the "what games mean to us" message together nonetheless, and has some neat ideas to help with this (I love that the main cast's relationship with the villain is divorced from the lore and largely comes down to the fact that he's tearing apart the game that brought them together and separating them for his own ends), but it doesn't land nearly as hard as it could because of the writing's trouble in consistently demonstrating the tangible human component involved in an online game. TOME is about a friend group of 5 people who should be easy to connect with on paper; and even though you do see them all around each other at one point or another in the series, you don't quite get the organic sense of camaraderie between them that you should, with a few solid exceptions (Episode 4, Fraggedquest, is generally considered to be a highlight).
The fact that Lea does so much for this idea with significantly less words on the other hand is a testament to CrossCode's successful conveyance. A chunk of the cast doesn't exactly have deep, involved arcs, or even really attempts at them (CrossCode has a roleplayer character in the form of Apollo; unlike TOME's Nylocke, however, Apollo never really has a big moment where he drops the act and is direct about his feelings), but they all have fun, human personalities that bounce off of each other well and give you a strong feeling of friends who play together, and unlike TOME the fantastical ideas of the story never crowd out the human component.
CrossCode is largely structured around the cast simply playing the game together without much interruption, allowing the writing to focus on the interpersonal bonds formed between the characters.
What I think TOME does do better, however, is go over the positive feelings involved in being a creator for a game, even if it comes mostly at the very end. The creator of TOME, Webmaster, is kind to the players and very clearly passionate and enthusiastic about his work. Though he and the other developers, the Netkings, discovered digital life while working on the game, the story makes a strong point to show that the team only saw the discovery as like their child, rather than something squarely to be used for profit. It's a positive and meaningful depiction of a creator's healthy and fulfilling relationship with the project of their passions. The "B-plot" of sorts in the finale ends in Webmaster giving a very earnest and heartfelt speech to the main villain on how meaningful it was for them that they developed this game so many could enjoy, and how upsetting it was that they didn't all see eye to eye on what was valued the most in creating it. While I've said the writing has a bit of a "telling" problem, this piece of dialogue, beautifully delivered with a solemn and earnest tone by the one and only Kyle Hebert, is also a great "action" that tells us a lot about the kind of man Webmaster is, and is in my opinion one of the highlights of the whole series.
In contrast, CrossCode touches more lightly on the love involved in being a creator, and much more tragically and cynically on it. In CrossCode, control of the game is now in the hands of a megacorporation, with the named developers having long lost having serious influence over the MMO of CrossWorlds. The characters Satoshi and Gautham were both interested in aspiring higher; Satoshi wished to advance technology through working on the game, while Gautham wanted to make a challenging and exciting experience for players. The interesting element here is that Satoshi, similarly to the main villain Rubirules from TOME, is not actually too concerned with the game itself and just wanted to aspire higher and advance technology; unlike TOME's villain, however, he's not interested in the personal gain of fame and fortune. Satoshi's interest in the titular CrossCode and what could be achieved with it is only out of his love of work and for what it could do for others. The tragic bend comes in that wanting to see his passion through leads him to make a deal with the corrupt and genuinely malicious Sidwell, a deal that ultimately ends in his own death and "resurrection" as an artificial intelligence.
Gautham, on the other hand, more straightforwardly represents a game developer with a deep love for his work. All he wanted to do was design great experiences for players; unfortunately, by the time of the game's events, he's a broken man due to also doing the dirty work of the main antagonist, and the only thing keeping him alive at this point is the fact that he believes he still hasn't fulfilled himself as a creator. The final bosses you fight in the game are of his own design, and after accepting a graceful defeat and expressing genuine satisfaction that you were able to enjoy and overcome his challenges, he takes his own life. The significance of a creator's love and passion comes up in ways, but it doesn't quite get the same loving and kind focus in CrossCode that it does in TOME. It's hard to actually blame CrossCode for this, however, as these elements are more auxiliary to the main conflict, which is rooted in a love for people in general.
TOME's Webmaster is a creator who is beyond happy to have shared his world with the players, and acknowledges the great significance of so many people investing themselves into his creation.
When looking at the way both series approach the significance of a player's solace in an online world, I'd say that CrossCode ultimately handles itself better because of how successfully and beautifully it captures what it means to just one person, a person who isn't even human and often doesn't say more than a word at a time. But TOME's more over-the-top story about players defending a game they love, as well as its elements near the end of the series that emphasize the fulfillment in creation and passion is not to be completely discounted, either. Messages about online experiences and the way they can envelop you in a way that's meaningful and positive are just wonderful and resonate strongly with me, as someone who did a lot of my "growing up" and bonding over the internet, with people who I still call my close friends to this day.