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Every so often, you come across a game that stays with you long after the credits roll. Sometimes, it's as simple as mindless fun. Other times, it can be because of how it spoke to you on an emotional level you never expected. For me, it was the latter with AdHoc Studio's debut game, Dispatch. I didn't know too much about it before playing – expecting a silly game about sending superheroes to fight crime, not something I'd walk away from with a new perspective on my own life. But I did, and I'm forever grateful to Dispatch for it.
It didn't take long for me to latch onto Dispatch. I saw a lot of myself in its protagonist, Robert Robertson, an Iron Man-like hero turned dispatcher. Like Robert, I lost my father at a young age and didn't know him very well. Likewise, every time I ran into someone who knew him, I would hear stories about how he was a great man, loved and adored by everyone who crossed his path. Unfortunately, this was a side of him that I never knew. Growing up, we were very distant from one another, and I couldn't even tell you what his favorite color was. I still don't know.
Beneath the shadow
It's been well over ten years since my dad passed away, but our lack of a close relationship still hangs over me more than I'd like to admit. Whenever Robert speaks conversations with Chase, a retired speedster turned dispatcher who grew up babysitting Robert – or anyone else in the game – about how he never knew this side of his father that everyone looked up to, I feel it and understand his pain. Carrying the burden and legacy of a man you never knew is hard, and ensuring that he lives on without ever truly knowing them is even harder. Often, it can feel like you're destined to live in their shadow your whole life, whether you like it or not.
Sometimes the best way to combat these feelings is by trying to be the best possible version of yourself. This is precisely what we see Robert do. Sure, a big part of the game is centered around him replicating the family suit that was passed down from him to make it his own, but it's not the main focus. A large portion of the game centers around you helping those who are as angry as you and guiding them to be something greater than they could ever imagine. Throughout his journey, he learns that he's not defined by the expectations his dad set for him. Instead, he's defined by the decisions he's made in life and by how he's helped those around him.
That's exactly what I found myself doing, too. Instead of being angry at something I can't change, I use that energy to try and do something good. For my day job, I work as a Special Education Instructional Aide, where I help students stay on task and complete their work. In many ways, the students I work with remind me of Z-Team's dynamic. They're all capable of achieving greatness, even if they don't always see it themselves. All they need is a little push in the right direction to help them see the vision.
We may not be fighting kaijus or stopping world-ending threats, but we're growing. Seeing my students' faces light up when they finally understand something or learn a valuable lesson is how I imagine Robert felt whenever one of the Z-Team members rose to the occasion, like when Invisigal stops being defined by poor results and stops a jewel thief. Getting to know and understand them on a personal level often mirrors Robert's experience through the game. By understanding their struggles, I'm able to identify areas where they need help most. This is a connection that I would have never been able to make if it weren't for AdHoc Studio.
The moment that helped me realize I was caught in my dad's shadow came early in Dispatch, when Robert is forced to confront the possibility that he may not be Mech-Man – a family title passed down through generations – anymore. Seeing this really put a mirror up to my face and forced me to reevaluate how I see myself, and it helped me realize that I am indeed forming my own legacy by the actions and people that I help every day.
Grief is a long, complicated journey. There's no one way to address it, and each path is different. Everyone works at their own pace, and sometimes fully addressing it can take longer than others. Dispatch helped me feel good about myself, and view the death of my father through a new lens. One pointed towards the future, not the past.
Dispatch review: "Critical Role fans rejoice – episodic gaming has been superheroically saved by this incredibly charming band of misfits"
