Objection Overruled: How Visual Novels Stole My Heart
By Wendell NeSmith, Bard-President of the Mythocratic Republic
I wasn’t expecting a miracle.
I just saw Ace Attorney on sale one day and decided to give it a chance.
It had always hovered on the edge of my awareness—quirky courtroom drama, cult classic—but I never committed.
Why?
Because it didn’t have voice acting.
And for most of my life, that was a dealbreaker.
I only played games that spoke to me—literally.
But something had changed in me.
I had grown into someone who loves reading.
Not as a chore, but as a gateway to meaning.
So I tried it.
And that small decision turned out to be a defining moment.
The Case That Opened Everything
Ace Attorney wasn’t just entertaining. It was alive.
The writing had moral weight. The pacing had rhythm.
And though there were no voices, the emotions rang loud and clear.
For the first time, I understood the power of visual novels.
They didn’t dazzle with action.
They invited me to listen with my soul.
Ace Attorney became my unexpected teacher.
And through it, I found a genre I had never dared explore.
A Hidden Genre Waiting for Me
What I discovered was more than a game.
It was a literary universe—a place where emotion, philosophy, and art converge.
After Ace Attorney, I found Clannad.
That game changed me too.
It’s slow, emotional, human—and it made me cry with joy and sorrow.
And from there, I discovered an entire world of games like these.
A hidden genre, always there but invisible until I was ready to see.
I now have a lifetime’s worth of games waiting for me—
not filled with mindless combat, but with meaning.
Games that speak in signal, not static.
The Verdict
I found Ace Attorney on sale.
It looked simple.
But it turned out to be the turning point of everything.
So here is my ruling:
Objection overruled.
Visual novels are not weak. They are not lesser.
They are literary sanctuaries in disguise—
vessels for emotion, truth, and emergence.
If you’ve never tried one, start with these:
- Ace Attorney
- Clannad
Let them open your eyes.
Because maybe, just maybe…
your Republic is waiting too.
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