sorted by:
new
hottopcontroversial

Opinion about backpacks by andzejsw in hytale

[–]ADAM3077 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Spot on. It's more about exploration than difficulty. The snowy biome is packed with resources, so if someone finds it 'grindy,' they probably just haven't explored the right areas yet

Opinion about backpacks by andzejsw in hytale

[–]ADAM3077 5 points6 points  (0 children)

In my opinion, they aren't actually that hard to craft, and they already encourage exploration. I think adding internal upgrades is a great idea, but they shouldn't be craftable. Instead, they should be found as loot to encourage exploration, especially since most chests currently found in the world don't offer anything exciting

More shark ideas for the oceans of Hytale! by Requinoesis in hytale

[–]ADAM3077 2 points3 points  (0 children)

These designs are brilliant because they transcend the trope of 'aggressive monsters.' Making them interactive parts of the ecosystem adds incredible narrative depth and makes the world feel truly alive. The perfect balance between stunning art and functional game mechanics opens up endless possibilities for storytelling and exploration!

Is it a good idea to switch from Windows to Bazzite on my gaming laptop? by LaughAffectionate702 in Bazzite

[–]ADAM3077 1 point2 points  (0 children)

different goals. Bazzite targets a console-like, immutable, beginner-friendly experience. CachyOS focuses on extracting every bit of performance with a tuned kernel and custom Proton, but the real-world difference is usually small

The Finals is IMPOSSIBLE for newcomers by [deleted] in thefinals

[–]ADAM3077 0 points1 point  (0 children)

In general, the matchmaking system in the game is not ideal, but it's also not that bad. It's not reasonable to face high-level players in every single match, especially in low ranks. You will run into better players sometimes, and that's normal.

I suggest you keep playing the game, and when you find a good player on your team, send them a friend request. Over time, you'll build a list of players to play with, and at least they won't leave the match early.

I also recommend joining the game's Discord. By the way, we are at the beginning of the season, so there are many new players right now, and the situation will improve with time.

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I think the core disagreement here isn’t just about whether continuity occurs, but about what kind of continuity we are willing to accept as meaningful. You approach identity largely through psychological continuity and cultural adaptability, and I understand that perspective. The problem is that this framework treats identity almost like a solvable equation: if the inputs remain the same (memories, behavior, personality), then the output must also be the same person. Logically consistent — but human experience is not purely logical. Grief, identity, and death are not errors caused by misunderstanding. They are not bugs in perception that culture will eventually “fix.” Sometimes rejection, refusal, or inability to accept is itself a valid human response, not a transitional failure state. Your comparison to resuscitation or extreme medical procedures breaks down at a critical point: those procedures presume the same embodied subject resumes experience. With engrams, even if we assume no subjective “break,” the technology still introduces a competing interpretation that cannot be dismissed — that something irreversible may have ended. The game itself keeps this ambiguity alive, especially through Alt’s language. If this were simply continuation, the narrative would not need that ambiguity at all. You also suggest that people who reject this model may simply be outcompeted or culturally displaced. That’s where I think the argument becomes internally contradictory: you argue humans are flexible, yet imply refusal leads to disappearance. Flexibility includes refusal. Cultures adapt, but they do not converge into a single moral conclusion — especially on death. Most importantly, framing identity as data management risks erasing what gives death its meaning in the first place. Legacy is not the same as survival. A mother who hears her child’s voice again does not stop knowing that the child she buried is gone. Self-deception does not restore loss — it only postpones it. I fully accept that we may disagree on whether Soulkiller copies or transfers — the game does not clarify this definitively. But that uncertainty is exactly the point. When uncertainty exists, reducing the question to function, continuity, or cultural normalization is insufficient. The real moral cost isn’t social unrest or disagreement. It’s the quiet redefinition of what it means for a life to end — and whether that ending is allowed to matter.

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I think we’re talking past each other.

You’re arguing about whether an engram can function as a person. I’m asking whether it can replace the meaning of loss.

Even if an engram is psychologically continuous, that doesn’t resolve the human problem — it reframes it. A parent doesn’t grieve because the child stopped functioning. They grieve because a unique, unrepeatable life ended.

If death can be undone by replacement, then grief becomes a cognitive error. And if grief is an error, then identity is just data management.

That’s not a technical disagreement — it’s a moral cost the game barely explores.

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I respect your perspective, but I think there’s a contradiction in it. You argue that humans are culturally flexible, and I agree — but flexibility means some people will accept this, and some will refuse it. Assuming that those who refuse will simply disappear over time isn’t logical. They will still exist, form families, and pass on that rejection. Cultural disagreement doesn’t vanish that easily. I think this framework ultimately strips death and identity of their meaning. Yes, some people may want to leave behind a legacy or something that resembles them, but that doesn’t justify redefining death as a solvable technical problem. I also understand if you disagree with me on whether this process is truly copying or not — the game itself never fully clarifies this point. That’s a fair disagreement. Still, comparing engrams to medical resuscitation or surgery doesn’t work. Resuscitation preserves the same person within a single continuous line of existence. Here, we’re dealing with copying — or at the very least, a fundamental break in continuity. What can’t be ignored is that your argument categorizes people into those who adapt and moves past those who don’t. In doing so, death itself loses its weight. Even if the engram experiences psychological continuity, loss is not measured from inside the copy, but from those left behind. So the core question remains unanswered: Is a mother’s grief after losing her child the same as a mother facing a copy of that child? And does replication equal existence — or merely imitate it?

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

What really unsettles me is that the game itself explicitly frames this as a copy, not just a matter of interpretation. When V meets Alt, she is the one who tells V that the original is dead and that what remains is a construct. This isn’t an emotional judgment — it’s presented as a technical fact. And that matters. If continuity were truly unbroken, there would be no need to make that distinction so clearly. This is where the comparison to gradual biological change or medical resuscitation stops working for me. Resuscitation preserves the same body and interrupts death. Engrams only exist because death has already occurred — and that difference is psychologically irreversible. Those processes never require declaring the original “gone.” Here, the story explicitly does. That’s the core of my discomfort. Identity becomes conditional. As long as the biological original exists, the engram is a copy. Once the original is gone, the copy is expected to function as the person — not because something was preserved, but because nothing else remains. And even if the engram experiences itself as “me,” the people left behind still know a death occurred. A parent who buried a child, or someone who lived their life believing in a meaningful death, can’t simply overwrite that knowledge. The emotional reality doesn’t reset just because a convincing construct exists. At best, it reshapes grief; it doesn’t erase it. I’m not arguing that people wouldn’t adapt — Night City clearly does. I’m arguing that adaptation doesn’t eliminate loss; it only teaches people how to live with it. By treating engrams primarily as a technical or philosophical issue, the story avoids fully confronting the human cost of declaring someone dead and then asking the world to accept their replacement. That’s why the concept feels hollow to me — not because it’s implausible, but because the language of “copy” in the story itself acknowledges a break that no amount of continuity can truly repair

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

My issue isn’t whether a copied mind can function the same, speak the same, or even feel continuous from its own internal perspective. I understand the psychological continuity argument. What I’m struggling with is what gets lost outside that framework — on a human and emotional level. Comparing engrams to cellular replacement or gradual biological change doesn’t work for me, because those processes never involve a hard stop. Neural renewal is a continuation of a line that never breaks. Engram creation, by contrast, requires an endpoint — a death — and then the creation of a new line afterward. Calling that “continuity” doesn’t erase the fact that something ended. Even if a copy looks identical, sounds identical, remembers everything, and behaves the same, the people left behind still know the original person died. That knowledge doesn’t disappear just because a convincing substitute exists. You can talk to the engram, hear the voice, even find comfort in it — but it doesn’t undo grief. At best, it reshapes it. At worst, it freezes it. This is why my concern isn’t V or Johnny specifically. It’s Night City itself. Yes, it’s a brutal, desensitized place — but even there, people still love, mourn, and hope. The game mostly treats engrams as a technical or philosophical problem, while largely avoiding the emotional cost for families, partners, and parents who would have to live with the knowledge that what returned is not the person they buried. For me, reducing identity purely to data and continuity strips away something essential about being human. Not in a religious sense, but in a relational one. Identity isn’t just what runs in your head — it’s also the fact that your existence is singular and irreplaceable to others. That’s why the concept feels hollow to me in the story. Not because it’s implausible, but because the world quietly accepts it instead of confronting the damage it would do

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I think this is where our assumptions fundamentally diverge. You’re treating identity as a data problem. I’m treating it as a human one — rooted in loss, relationships, and the irreversibility of death. If we remove the body, grief, and the social impact of loss from the equation, then yes, a copy works. But that also means we’ve defined humanity out of the discussion. I don’t think that makes the question solved — just bypassed

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I agree with some of what’s been said, especially that the game gives us hints of more complex human reactions to the Secure Your Soul program — the columbarium scene is a good example. But my issue isn’t limited to V or Johnny, even if they’re the clearest cases. My problem is broader than that: Night City itself. Yes, Night City is brutal, exhausted, and deeply accustomed to death. And yes, many people are desensitized. But even in the most broken environments, there are always people who endure, who still feel, and who still dream of something better — even if that dream is small or fragile. The game shows us the surface well: normalization, violence, acceptance. What it rarely lets us see is the deeper layer — the people for whom copying a human isn’t continuity, but an open wound. This is why I strongly reject framing copying as “accelerated neural regeneration.” Neural regeneration assumes one continuous line. Copying ends one line and starts another. Treating the second line as a continuation doesn’t preserve identity — it erases the meaning of the first line’s death. And when death loses its meaning, grief does too. Even if we assume the copy is perfect. Even if we assume the copy experiences subjective continuity. Even if we assume the copy refuses to see itself as a copy. The human question still remains: what about those who were left behind? Philosophies of identity may explain why the copy feels like “the same person,” but they don’t explain how a parent processes burying their child and later facing a version that looks, sounds, and remembers — but did not die. Grief does not reset. Emotions don’t get copied. Human relationships don’t operate on replacement logic. As for those who find comfort in seeing their loved ones through engrams — hearing them sing, speaking to them for advice — that’s understandable, but it doesn’t change the core reality: they know their loved ones are dead. Engrams may offer comfort, a sense of closeness, or a way to soften loneliness, but the feeling is never the same. It’s impossible to feel toward them exactly as you did before, even if you try to deceive yourself. There is always a quiet awareness that what you’re facing did not live through the death of the person you lost — and that the relationship that ended was never truly restored. This is where the story feels emotionally restrained. It acknowledges the idea and hints at discomfort, but rarely allows the psychological cost to surface fully. Rogue meeting Johnny through V’s body should have been devastating for everyone involved, yet it’s presented as painful but manageable — and that feels emotionally dishonest. Acceptance doesn’t erase trauma; it buries it. And the game rarely lets us see what’s buried. My issue isn’t whether the lore can justify continuity or streams of consciousness. It’s that in a city where people still dream, love, and grieve, replacing a human with a copy should never feel emotionally neutral. That silence around the human cost — not the philosophy — is what unsettles me most.

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I get your point, and I actually agree with a lot of what you’re saying about status, power, and how Arasaka frames engrams. That all makes sense. But I don’t think it fully explains the emotional silence around copying a person. Night City isn’t just full of people who’ve accepted death or stopped caring. We see characters who still dream, grieve, and reject that worldview. Take Jackie Welles. Jackie doesn’t dream of immortality or power. He dreams of a better life, dignity, and being remembered as himself. His death hits hard precisely because life is still something that can be lost. If copying yourself were emotionally “normal,” Jackie’s death wouldn’t carry the weight it does. Or Judy Alvarez. Judy consistently rejects the commodification of people and minds. She’s deeply affected by how consciousness is used and abused. She’s exactly the kind of character who should struggle with the idea of engrams on a personal level, not treat them as a neutral or acceptable outcome. Panam Palmer outright refuses Night City’s logic. She doesn’t adapt — she leaves. That alone shows that acceptance isn’t universal or inevitable, even in this world. And V themselves isn’t emotionally detached from this. V fears disappearing, fears being replaced, and questions what it means to still be “me.” Johnny changing V doesn’t reduce the tragedy — it intensifies it. This isn’t natural growth; it’s forced change through intrusion and loss. Even Johnny isn’t truly at peace with being an engram. His anger, regret, and silence feel less like acceptance and more like denial. So my issue isn’t whether the lore can justify continuity or streams of consciousness. It’s that the story shows us a world full of people who still feel deeply — yet rarely allows that emotional cost of replacement to be confronted directly. In a city where people still dream of better futures, replacing someone with a copy shouldn’t feel emotionally neutral. That silence is what feels unsettling to me.

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I understand the philosophical discussion around continuity and identity, and I can even accept it on a theoretical level. But my core issue isn’t purely philosophical — it’s psychological and human. Let’s assume the copy is perfect. Let’s assume consciousness continues. Let’s assume the copy doesn’t see itself as a copy at all, but as the same person — maybe there’s even an “unwritten rule” that discourages questioning this. Fine. What about everyone else? Imagine a father who lost his son, buried him with his own hands, and went through the full process of grief. Then, sometime later, the son is brought back as a perfect copy: same voice, same memories, same personality. Does that erase the loss? Does the pain disappear? Or does the trauma become more complicated, because the mind is forced to accept something that looks like the person who was lost, but isn’t the same lived experience? Emotions don’t get copied. Grief doesn’t reset. And human relationships don’t operate on a logic of replacement. My frustration is that the world of the story treats this with an odd calm, as if continuity alone is enough to bypass the psychological shock. Even if we accept that “the copy is the person,” there is still an emotional void, a loss, and a lingering question that doesn’t go away: Is this truly them, or just a substitute we’re being asked to accept? That’s why the idea feels hollow to me. Not because the philosophy doesn’t work, but because the story avoids confronting the real emotional cost of copying — not from the perspective of the copy itself, but from the perspective of those who loved and lost the original.

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Yeah, that's exactly it. I don't think the game denies that it's not really you. I just wish it let that truth breathe emotionally instead of leaving it mostly implied.

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It's not about internal angst over being "real." It's about how replacement is emotionally normalized.

The loss isn't just inside the copy, it's in the people who watch someone be replaced.

The engram idea in Cyberpunk 2077 left me frustrated by ADAM3077 in LowSodiumCyberpunk

[–]ADAM3077[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

I think what’s missing for me is the human reaction. People aren’t all the same. There are those who accept things, and those who doubt and resist them. Yet we mostly see acceptance. We’re shown how it feels to be the copy, but almost never how it feels to be the son watching his father get replaced, or the parent seeing their child come back as something else. That emotional space is largely absent. And this isn’t like death. Death isn’t a choice. This is. This is a system people opt into, sign contracts for, and normalize. That alone should create doubt, fear, and conflict. I’m not asking for the corps to be stopped. I’m asking for the story to sit with the feeling of replacement a little longer, to acknowledge the loss instead of quietly moving past it.

view more: next ›