What makes a good story? Some will say great world building, some properly motivated characters, and some would say a solid enemy. Those are all great elements, and since I started playing Marathon I pondered this more and more. As someone who is a sucker for a good story, especially a player-driven mystery, I have become wrapped up in Marathon’s narrative from the moment I loaded in. As I poured hours into this game I am left wondering how and why is the narrative the most compelling aspect of Marathon to me? Let’s not waste time and dive in!
A Deep History
Bungie’s first commercial game for the Apple Macintosh was Operation: Desert Storm released in 1991, just a few years before Marathon would take the scene. Marathon was best known for its interesting story elements and sci-fi theming. The story itself was delivered to you through terminals and other text-based arrangements. When they presented Halo, the narrative was delivered through voice acting and bombastic cut-scenes. The Destiny franchise not only has the deepest story elements of any Bungie game to date, but others have made entire careers dissecting every piece of information that came slithering out of every crevice of Destiny. It only makes sense for Bungie to take another swing at transforming how a narrative is delivered.

2026’s Marathon bleeds multiple elements together to deliver a story, but there is one very important aspect of this design and that is how at all points, you are in control. There are no perspective changes, no cutscenes that depict you doing something you normally wouldn’t do. Even the extraction-shooter genre of Marathon presents a challenge when it comes to having players understand what is going on around them and why they are doing what they are doing.

Typically, stories for extraction shooters are very thin and nonsensical. Just the mere presence of a PvPvE shooter bestows plenty of questions upon themselves. Why are people shooting at each other when it makes more sense to pool resources? Why don’t we have the better gear after ransacking places for years? These questions and many more are answered within the context of the game and that is what I find incredibly interesting. When a game makes you think of questions like the ones I asked, I find myself pondering exactly what the answer could be. Bungie has somehow covered all their bases by mostly showing and not telling. Although there is a codex to help remind you of everything you experience which is great for the lore heads out there.
In Space, No One Can Hear You Scream
As Bungie stories go, the true narrative occurred way before the player takes control of their shell. We have a universe amongst us and in a way, we have found ourselves in a position to reap the benefits of whatever is out there. Did you know that there is an enemy AI out there that possibly caused every terrible thing? Neither did I. This is where Marathon’s lore really comes into play and being familiar with the story at a baseline really pays off. It creates excitement as players attempt to understand Durandal and wonder exactly what is happening.
I have said that Marathon is a horror game dressed up in neon, minimalist aesthetic combined with a bold taste that makes the game stand up on its own design wise. This enables and encourages Bungie to explore the true horror as we explore abandoned bases wondering what exactly happened. Most importantly, we are doing it upon our own agency. We have become sucked into the mystery box, and much like the characters from LOST, we are trying to open the hatch.

Every game needs motivation and it has to go beyond a random McGuffin. Sure, having a bright and shiny new toy is always a good reason to chase the carrot. After all, I have been doing this for years between Warcraft and Destiny. But once you have it, what else do you do with it? Well, you take on more tasks in the hopes that this reward brings you further to another one. In this sense, motivation is all about gaining more and more power. A story in this sense only acts as a framework that enables the McGuffin to exist, to give the player something to chase. The presence of an enemy force that might be trying to use that same tool to destroy the universe is also a great tool to motivate players. Preventing a cataclysmic event is what thrill-seeking players want to do in an action game because it makes them feel good.
Marathon challenges this by presenting an endgame activity called The Cryo Archive, an endgame area that only opens on the weekends. By the time you read this, you’ll most likely figure out what is resting in the heart of this area, but as of my typing I am still clueless. We are told that it is a segment of the Marathon ship, the long-lost vessel of the game’s namesake. If this doesn’t spark any sort of interest in the playerbase, I don’t know what will.

The narrative concept that drives us into the Marathon vessel is also backed by the integration of the gameplay. The goal is to collect as much gear from the normal maps and then bring them with us into the ship. Other players will be there, so we are essentially fighting each other to learn the secrets that lurk within. It is an interesting take on the Sword Logic that existed within the Hive’s hierarchy within Destiny; the powerful remain powerful and the weak are only weak because they have yet to achieve power. In a way, I am afraid that the weak who are invested in this element of the game will never truly be embraced by the truth that rests within the derelict ship. Player investment and hoarding of resources all accumulates into this moment. If the mystery at the end of this tunnel is enlightenment, then the players shall be the seekers of knowledge. Disciples of cult-like factions who want power are putting their one faith into you.
Ludonarrative Design
A game is always better with a good narrative. Something to hook you in and never let you go that goes beyond the carrot on a stick. Thanks to titles like Hades and Baldur’s Gate 3, we have seen a new way for games to inject story elements into your experience. Instead of a linear concept where story elements play out in a predictive manner that lacks any real agency, Marathon plays into a ludonarrative concept. This is when a game tells the story through the gameplay experience, but there are limits to this concept. If something is broken on either side of the narrative and the gameplay, such as a cutscene where the player loses any sense of control, we enter the realm of ludonarrative dissonance. It is a state where both the gameplay and the narrative conflict with each other.

Both Hades and Baldur’s Gate 3 offer a level of ludonarrative concepts by introducing new elements as you play, but still manage to remain within a realm that prevents the absolute dissonance from occurring unless you decide to look way too deep within the systems that power these games. This creates a discussion around player-driven events and purposeful design. Baldur’s Gate 3 doesn’t let you make truly evil decisions a la sandbox style of a game. Instead, there is a more devious playthrough option called “The Dark Urge” where Baldur’s Gate 3 takes a turn for the evil and allows you to explore a much darker side of the story. While you still have control and can reposition your character from being outright evil, there are still limits.

Some may consider both of these instances to be examples of ludonarrative dissonance. But the element that is missing from this conversation is motivation, the reason why you want to pursue this adventure. It is a deeply personal construct that many games try to narrow down so that multiple people from different backgrounds and cultures can understand it and find something relative that keeps them within the confines of the sandbox. Because once you start asking questions that have no answers, you begin to edge closer to the death knell that kills even the most motivated, “Why am I even playing this?”
A Reason to Exist
Everything needs a reason to be happening. This helps preserve not just the ludonarrative concept but to make it more immersive. Have you ever wanted to ask your favorite author what happens between books or chapters? They might not have an answer and that changes your relationship with whatever the subject matter is depending on how important that fact is to you. Chances are, if you are asking it, then it is very important.
Marathon presents a lot of elements to you as the player and every single one of those is validated by something else within the game’s structure. Questions have answers.
Why are we on Tau Ceti IV? Because a big ole ship crashed, disappeared, leaving behind some valuable materials and a mystery to be uncovered.
Why are we robotic runners? Because the environment is way too harsh for normal humans.
How do we control these shells? Well, our brains are located off world and we are using a mechanical substructure to remotely control these shells like they are our own bodies.
Why are rounds in the game only 25 minutes? Because that is the amount of time our brains can remain in control before they turn into mush. Honestly I am not so sure of that answer exactly but I am sure that might be evidence that places me relatively close based on various clues.

Even some of the easier questions to answer have answers. We may wonder why there are factions, what they do, why does one of them love looking like the vagabonds in a Purge movie? When it comes to Bungie, whenever you ask a question like these, there is always an answer somewhere. Sometimes that answer is right in front of you, and sometimes it is in the lore.
Breaking the Wall
Like many other games, the narrative begins once you load up and enter your first round. In Marathon’s tutorial, you understand the basics of what the game presents to you. Once you gain your bearings, threats introduce themselves. It is a way to make you understand not just what is going on around you, but also the threats that you’ll be up against. It isn’t until later, after a few rounds, where a representative of the UESC makes themselves known. This is done all between matches at the main menu. They pop up, surprise you, and deliver a bit of knowledge that will carry you forward.
Now, as we have discussed before, there is a lot going on here. Everything has a futuristic cybernetic theme. From the weapons to the character models down to the windows you open. The challenge screen that displays all the things you should do to earn something also fits into the theme. This feeling continues as I am introduced to the factions and their respective representatives. But before I am accepted into their ranks, I must complete tasks by them to show that I am loyal to their cause. I don’t have to be explicitly abiding by their contracts, but if I want to build a reputation with the faction in hopes of receiving better rewards, then so be it. This in itself is a narrative, it brings you into the game and immerses you deeper into this world.

Every faction has an ideal that they follow, from trying to provide the best medical equipment to complete anarchy, the factions each have a unique personality and they are all looking to have you help them achieve their goals. They can’t do it without you, so they pay handsomely.
After completing one of these contracts, it all became incredibly clear to me. It clicked like the sound of a trigger. In Marathon, you are not playing a character, you are playing as yourself. You, the person on the chair or couch, are the pilot controlling the shell. You are learning about the factions, you are creating anarchy. Firewalls be damned, you are a member of whatever organization put you up to the task. And for what? So you can be better, faster, stronger next time you traverse the world. Indeed.

This fourth-wall breaking realization plays into itself over and over again when it comes to what I want out of this game. I have poured hours into Marathon but not enough to be one of the blessed disciples of the machine. I am not granted access to the Marathon vessel because I haven’t earned the right to go in there yet. I lack the capabilities at this time and don’t have the understanding to understand.
Beyond the Hatch
There is a moment in LOST that I briefly mentioned before. It is when John Locke, a cured paraplegic finds a hatch in the middle of the deserted island everyone is trapped on after an airplane crash. He is motivated to see what is below it. He does everything he can but the one thing he doesn’t have is understanding, so he searches for it. He bashes it, blows it up, gets people killed over it. He so believes in hope and what rests under it even if he doesn’t understand it. He becomes so tied to this, that it brings out something deep from within. His urgency to uncover this mystery is fueled by a motivation to find an answer to many questions.

I am John Locke looking at the hatch pondering what is inside of it. Every attempt to open it feels fruitless, but also hopeful. There are many tests to endure and a past to reconcile with. When the hatch does open, how far down does the latter go before I touch ground again? The only way to find out is to play.
