It all starts with the Arknights New Year Gala earlier this year.
Back then, I wandered through the crowd before the opening and immediately spotted someone holding up a tablet displaying a meme about both male and female Administrators experiencing a double solar eclipse. Many people went over to take photos, and some even raised their hands... Of course, since this is a must-learn photo pose for winter warm-hearted guys, you can probably imagine the scene, so I won't post pictures.
Similar memes about the Administrator's benevolence have been spreading wildly since the launch of Arknights: Endfield, evolving with each version update. You can find similar discussions on many platforms, be they videos, memes, or text posts, but they all compare the Administrator to the sun.
Can't be helped. After all, the Administrator of Endfield is the most unfathomable existence on all of Talos-II.
According to a certain fangirl who imitates the Administrator's quotes all day, the Administrator once ventured underground alone, destroying two thousand anchors with a single strike and leaving deep craters on the surface; the aurora of Talos-II is the trace of Originium Arts cast by the Administrator a century ago; the shattered truth of Talos-V is because the Administrator threw it into the Hyperdomain.
Starting from this piece of unofficial lore, the Administrator has since become the sun of Talos-II. Whether through the main storyline or fragmented narratives hidden in various notes, as long as it boosts the Administrator's prestige, it spawns a whole bunch of "gratitude essays"—
You should know that when the Administrator's wires aren't long enough, utility poles actively move toward the Administrator; when the Administrator reads, the books learn new knowledge; even the operator on the Dijiang wearing two pairs of sunglasses isn't trying to mimic memes but must use double-layered sunglasses to block the sun's rays.
No one knows the true extent of the Administrator's power, but people know that anything requiring the Administrator's solution is no small matter. Just hearing the Administrator's name allows them to shout, "Haha! The Administrator is here! I won't die!" and fully recover.
After you complete the shelter's reconstruction, Aji presents the Administrator with a family portrait of the reconstruction team. At this point, some might ask, why isn't the Administrator in the picture? That's because you didn't look carefully. When you shift your gaze to the top right corner and see the sun with eyes and a mouth, you'll know where the Administrator is depicted.
If you exhaust all your brain cells battling through countless puzzles and finally collapse from fatigue, the little robots waving their cyber-hands will trigger familiar BGM in players' minds, continuing to showcase their gratitude.
For example, in the new version, Wuling's experimental zone suffers severe contamination. The Administrator actively participates in post-disaster reconstruction, not only intuitively figuring out how to rescue the core modules of the Tianshi Pillars but also completing the entire zone's reconstruction alone.
Furthermore, the Administrator's technical prowess will be discovered by numerous Tianshi in the Sword Selection Bureau. Everyone gathers in a circle to express their admiration, letting players understand the true weight of one person matching an entire Wuling.
Of course, that's how it's portrayed in the story. As for actual gameplay—well, as the Administrator of Endfield, managing Everythinggj is inevitable, right?
For example, farming to obtain crafting materials. To get traditional farmyard manure, you have to search for Packbeasts and pat them. As the Administrator, personally picking up cow dung—is there anything more comprehensive than this?
Some brothers, yes. There's also the Supply Expansion Festival, where the Administrator becomes a head chef, delivering materials to bases everywhere. Those wanting to save effort can directly become traveling merchants, buying from others and submitting directly.
In short, on one hand, the lore builds up immense prestige, generating numerous "gratitude essays," while on the other hand, the specific plot and gameplay don't demonstrate sun-like power, instead having the Administrator do various chores. No wonder many players evaluate Endfield this way: Perlica is the shrewdest; she knocks out a high-level electrician with an elbow strike, causing amnesia, then wakes him up, declares him the protagonist, and releases him onto Talos-II as a slave.
So, do you know why the reception room on the Dijiang is so large? Because if it were smaller, it wouldn't fit electricians, couriers, chefs, poop scoopers, cleaning volunteers, and others.
Of course, jokes aside, I actually quite like this sense of contrast—there's nothing wrong with it, nor is it taboo. Let's follow this line of thought to deduce why such a contrast exists, and then see if the new version of Arknights: Endfield addresses these contradictions.
First, regarding this sense of contrast, has anyone conducted similar research? Yes, indeed. In 2007, game designer and former Ubisoft creative director Clint Hocking used "Ludonarrative Dissonance" to describe the contradiction between gameplay experience and narrative content in the game BioShock.
Clint Hocking argued that BioShock's narrative perspective aimed to convey themes of selflessness, yet the game's mechanics encouraged selfishness and independence. In other words, the setting clashed with the gameplay. Applied to Arknights: Endfield, this means "anything requiring the Administrator's intervention is no small matter," leading the Administrator to volunteer until exhaustion.
But keep in mind, this ludonarrative dissonance is an issue almost all narrative-driven video games face, especially RPGs like Endfield. It inevitably leads to immersion-breaking tasks and generates various fan-created memes.
Taking the classic "unclogging toilets" meme as an example, in Fallout 4, players grew frustrated with the Minutemen faction constantly issuing side quests. Since many tasks involved trivial matters, they jokingly referred to unclogging toilets as well, spawning numerous antics and elevating the term "unclogging toilets" into a调侃 (tease) for all kinds of boring side quests.
On the other hand, even if side quests aren't boring, ludonarrative dissonance may still arise—after all, if the main objective is critical, but the player is busy doing various side quests, the sense of incongruity returns. However, it must be admitted that this is another form of going viral, as many similar memes stem from this contradiction. For instance, in The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt, when the Bloody Baron's wife goes missing, he argues with Geralt one second, but if you choose to play Gwent, he'll say, "Sure, I'm quite good at it," creating this iconic moment.
Suffice it to say, there are countless similar examples. The culprit behind the Administrator, the sun of Talos-II, running around unclogging toilets is essentially the inevitable contradiction of "ludonarrative dissonance." This has also influenced the formation of various community cultures to some extent—looking at it this way, it actually creates some humorous effects.
Of course, this doesn't mean ludonarrative dissonance must always be resolved or ignored. On the contrary, retaining some tension, leaving appropriate moments of "breaking immersion," or allowing players to suspend certain crises can help control the pacing, preventing it from becoming too tense. It's a combination of movement and stillness. Therefore, I think the Sun of Endfield picking up cow dung is quite amusing.
As long as appropriate events occur in suitable segments, there will be no sense of incongruity, nor will it disrupt emotional climaxes. In this regard, I am quite satisfied with the new version's storyline in Endfield.
Please note that the following content contains spoilers for the "Spring Dawn" version of Arknights: Endfield. View with caution—however, by the time this article was published, the new version had already launched. Those who are fast might already be freely exploring Talos-II, so it should be fine.
The new version's main storyline consists mainly of three acts. The first revolves around Adashir and his mysterious plan, the second focuses on Nephis's erosion of Wuling, and the third unfolds around the underground Tianshi Pillars in Wuling and Zhuang Fangyi's past.
Their greatest commonality lies with the Administrator.
That's right, the Administrator's prestige has been elevated again—
In the ink-wash painting world composed of Behemoth authorities, the Administrator must repair the Rongxin Jade while engaging in a 1v1 real-man battle against the extreme male-chauvinist Adashir to resolve the Shoudun crisis.
When Nephis manipulates the Erosion Tide to invade Wuling's main city, the Administrator fights alongside Zhuang Fangyi. Through incredibly exciting boss battles featuring new mechanics, they smash through multiple powerful forms of Nephis, shoot down Old Nie, and save the people of Wuling.
Amidst the dangerous situation of the underground Tianshi Pillar array, the Administrator witnesses Zhuang Fangyi's memories spanning ten years, detailing her journey from success and vision to loss and self-blame, and finally shouldering the growth of an entire city.
Judging from this long, thrilling, and uninterrupted main storyline, the Administrator has truly become the sun this time.
In Tarot, there is Card 19, named The Sun. It represents success and joy, pure happiness and satisfaction, along with the ability to perceive all truths. Neither failure nor success marks the end; the Sun offers the choice of whether to move forward or stay put, leaving the future to the chooser's decision.
The Administrator in the story closely resembles this Tarot card. Omniscient, influencing those around him and affecting surrounding events.
Although Adashir, who speaks in riddles, still has unknown motives, one can sense his enigmatic feelings toward the Administrator from every word he says.
During the defense of Wuling, countless partners influenced by the Administrator fight side by side. Even Tangtang rides a cow to the battlefield to help protect their home.
Later, after the Wuling crisis, when Zhuang Fangyi leaves a suicide note and heads alone to the underground Tianshi Pillar array, the Administrator's prestige rises even higher. Zhuang Fangyi bids farewell to the pear blossoms blooming across the city for her, the fitness running track promised to her senior, and the shops filled with the scent of daily life. She wants to bear the responsibility alone and resolve the hidden crisis by herself. But as she is about to enter the elevator and embark on this uncertain path, she sees a blinding light.
This time, the Administrator is here.
This is my favorite performance in the entire version. It first switches to Zhuang Fangyi's perspective, using interactions pressed by the player to sign the suicide note. Then, using montage techniques, it blends scenes carrying emotion, such as Zhuang Fangyi's look back at Wuling City and the Administrator's influence on her, making the color of the entire story unprecedentedly intense.
The entire sequence depicts Zhuang Fangyi, but even more so, it depicts the Administrator.
After all, the Administrator at this moment has traversed Wuling City—whether picking up cow dung or volunteering as a cleaner, delivering packages or laying water pipes and electrical wires, all of this has connected the Administrator with Wuling and with Zhuang Fangyi.
When these two aspects converge in the new version, the portrayal of the Administrator indeed reaches a new level—capable of sweeping away darkness while also shining into everyday life. Perhaps this is the Administrator Endfield truly aims to塑造 (shape).
It's predictable that, with future version events, the Administrator controlled by players will take on more identities and won't be limited to this. But regardless, as long as Endfield maintains excellent character development and delivers performances as outstanding as this one, no matter what the Administrator is doing, players will sincerely exclaim:
"I'm truly powerful."
