Growing up, we didn’t have a lot of video games in the home. When I was fourteen, I pirated (I’m sorry, I’ve bought it twice since) Skyrim onto our family’s iMac and would play it when no one was home.

I was astounded that I could create my own character (Arcturus the High Elf Mage, thank you very much) and go through a well-written story with him. And trust me, I did. Many times.

I played that game as often as I could until I turned 18 and moved out into my own place. And there, in the dimly lit, brick-walled, motel room, did I meet Kratos. In his sympathy for me moving out, a good friend loaned me his PS4 for a week. The only game with it?

God of War.

I was astounded by the gameplay (a bit of a 180 from Skyrim) and the incredibly well-written and acted story that went on screen. The relationship between Kratos and his son, Atreus, felt more real than most movies I had seen.

It was especially poignant and will forever have a home with me to the familial issues I was dealing with at the time. Kratos was trying his best and so was Atreus and the bond they formed felt so authentic. I just couldn’t put it down.

Following the pair’s journey to the highest point in the realm, waylayed by gods and monsters alike, was a high-point of the year, and the story is one I have revisited at least once a year since.

I don’t want to go too much deeper into it, because that time will next week after I have played the much-awaited sequel, God of War: Ragnarok.

What can I say?

I’m hyped.