It’s 1986, and you’re playing a brand-new game. (You’re in Japan in this scenario, by the way; the game in question, Metroid, won’t come to North America and Europe until later.) Anyway, this new game has you in its grip. You are a lone astronaut exploring a hostile alien planet full of ancient, mysterious structures. This astronaut looks human enough – but this distinctly alien place is full of objects that power up their spacesuit’s capabilities. Each new ability allows you to explore a new area, and as you do, you realise that the entirety of the planetary base you’re exploring is one, massive, interconnected maze. Whoa. Hours later, you finally defeat Mother Brain and set off a timed self-destruct sequence. Upon your escape, you’re treated to an endgame screen: the little astronaut faces you as text on screen implores you to “pray for peace in space”. Samus is you … Super Metroid. Illustration: ArcadeImages/Alamy But then, the astronaut’s suit starts flashing rapidly – pink, green, orange. Suddenly, the suit disappears. What remains is … …