The Worlds We Carry With Us

Worlds That Stay With Us

There are games we enjoy. And then there are worlds that shift something in us — quietly, deeply, permanently.

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33

Clair Obscur: Expedition 33 was one of those for me. Not because it was just beautiful or well-designed, but because its themes landed in a way I didn’t expect. The grief carried by Alicia’s family, the fragility woven into that world, the way the game treats loss not as spectacle but as a lived emotion — it all resonated with things I’ve experienced in my own life.

And then came the music. Lorien Testard composed more than a soundtrack — he built a masterpiece that followed me outside the game. “Alicia.” “Lumière.” Melodies that made me stop, pay attention, and be present. They stayed with me during the day, in quiet moments, in conversations. They pulled me back to my guitar after years away — reminding me what it feels like to connect with a piece of art beyond the screen.

“For those who come after” sparked a reflection I had been postponing for a long time. It made me think about legacy, responsibility, and the kind of world we shape for others. It pushed me toward the desire to do better — almost like hearing Kratos tell Atreus, “We must be better.” It became the kind of thought that leads to long conversations with your partner about choices, impact, and the gray areas Expedition 33 handles so well.

That’s what connection feels like. Not dramatic. Not loud. Just real — the kind that lingers quietly.

Elden Ring

Elden Ring did something similar, but in a different way. It was my first real soulslike, one of the first games I ever platinumed, and the moment the shift happened for me is burned into my memory.

It was the Regal Ancestor Spirit fight.

I entered the arena expecting resistance, aggression, intensity — everything a FromSoftware boss usually demands. Instead, the music began: gentle, haunting, almost sacred. And the spirit moved with a kind of ancient sadness, as if it wasn’t trying to kill me, but trying to exist.

That fight reframed the entire world for me. It made me question the role of the Tarnished, whether there was any ethics in the journey, and the weight of the Lands Between and its history. It opened a door to curiosity — not the rushed kind, but the kind that makes every fragment of lore feel meaningful. It was the moment Elden Ring stopped being “a difficult game” and became a universe I wanted to understand.

Why These Worlds Matter

These games didn’t just entertain me. They changed how I look at stories, worlds, and even small parts of my own life. They made me pay attention to details, emotions, themes — they connected with me, and I carried those connections forward.

That’s the thing about certain games: you don’t leave them behind. You take pieces of them with you.

Some players chase completion. Some chase difficulty. Amidst all of that, sometimes you find connection.

And that’s what this pillar is about.

The Heart of This Pillar

The worlds we carry with us don’t stay alive because we remember every quest or every mechanic. They stay alive because they changed us — even if only a little.

Not every game needs to be profound. Some are just fun. Some challenge us. Some entertain. But once in a while, a world reaches deeper — and that’s the feeling this pillar speaks to.

If Trophi can help you find another world like that — another universe to lose yourself in, another place that feels like a home you didn’t know you needed — then it’s doing exactly what it was meant to do.

And those moments — the ones that stay — are worth honoring. Because some games end. But the best worlds stay with you — and we believe you deserve to find more of them.