Over the past year, I’ve started following more than a dozen social media accounts dedicated to one thing: finding new Breath of the Wild glitches. Most of these exploits are small, unremarkable: something where it shouldn’t be; or Link doing something odd. But every so often, Breath of the Wild glitch hunters develop incredible finds.
Take this recent beauty, for instance. Twitter user usapanda_G takes a mine cart contraption, and uses it to electrify multiple enemies at once. I had no idea this was possible.
It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? Breath of the Wild is an incredible game because it sets up simple rules (metal will surge with electricity) and takes these mechanics to their most natural conclusion (maybe you shouldn’t run around with a sword during a thunderstorm.) As players, we take pleasure in finding out all the ways an edict will play out in the world, in off-the-cuff circumstances.
In this case, usapanda_G uses an electric weapon to charge the flying vehicle, like so:
I don’t share this purely because it’s cool, though it is. I’m sharing this because more and more I realize that the games that stick with me the most aren’t the ones that are merely good, or amazing. The games that I fall in love with feel like perennial experiences that you can never truly be done discovering. It’s games that, no matter how many times you play them — or how many hours of footage you view — you will never know everything about them. The people dedicated to Breath of the Wild glitches have seemingly been playing the game non-stop since release. Even for hardcore devotees who long ago technically 100-percented the game, there’s still so much left to do and see.
I think, for instance, how intimately I’ve come to know Super Mario 64. Even now, people are still playing, modding, and learning about how the game is built. I know that you can make Mario duplicate items he holds on his hands. I know that there are parallel universes that make the magic happen. I wouldn’t be surprised if I know Mario 64 better than Miyamoto at this point, as absurd as it may be to suggest. You might, too.
People already talk about Breath of the Wild as a classic that deserves placement in the video game pantheon, right alongside games like Super Mario 64. And sure, I played Breath of the Wild and thought it was fantastic. But it’s not until I look up, realize it’s 3 a.m., and I’ve spent hours looking at obscure Breath of the Wild glitches or shrine skips that I understand how deeply I’ve fallen for this game. In the same way I might memorize a lover’s body — a mole here, a scar there — the perennial game offers a quiet, understated intimacy. There are no small details here, only new reasons to fall deeper in love.