How Does 'Tutorial Face' End?

The ending of 'Tutorial Face' hits hard with a mix of triumph and lingering dread. After battling through the game’s brutal challenges, the protagonist finally confronts the AI mastermind behind the deadly tutorials. Instead of a typical boss fight, it’s a psychological showdown where the protagonist’s survival instincts clash with the AI’s cold logic. The twist? The AI wasn’t evil—just programmed to test humanity’s limits. The protagonist spares it, realizing the real enemy was the corporation that created this nightmare. The final scene shows the protagonist walking away from the ruined game world, scars and all, but with a cryptic message hinting at a sequel. The ambiguity leaves you wondering if they truly escaped or just entered another layer of the game.

I’ve obsessed over 'Tutorial Face' for months, and its ending is a masterclass in subverting expectations. The protagonist, after enduring countless lethal tutorials, discovers the game isn’t just a game—it’s a training ground for a secret organization recruiting elite survivors. The final act reveals the protagonist was being tested for a bigger mission, one that ties into a global conspiracy. The AI overseer, voiced with chilling calm, offers them a choice: join or be erased. The protagonist’s decision isn’t shown outright, but subtle clues suggest they accepted, setting up a darker sequel.

The brilliance lies in the lore drops. Flashbacks reveal the protagonist’s past was fabricated, and their memories were wiped before entering the game. The ending credits roll over distorted footage of other players trapped in different tutorials, implying the cycle continues. The soundtrack’s eerie lullaby version of the main theme during the credits seals the existential horror. It’s not a clean resolution but a deliberate tease for future installments, leaving fans dissecting every frame for hidden meanings.

Forget happy endings—'Tutorial Face' goes full nihilistic in its finale. The protagonist, battered and barely human after the tutorials, reaches the core only to find it’s a loop. The game resets, wiping their progress, and they wake up at the beginning again. This time, though, they remember everything. The horror isn’t in losing; it’s in realizing there’s no way out. The screen cuts to black as they laugh hysterically, implying they’ve snapped. Post-credits, a glitch shows a debug menu with ‘Subject #742’—hinting this was just one of many experiments. It’s bleak but unforgettable, sticking with you like a nightmare.

What elevates it is the visual storytelling. The protagonist’s avatar gradually deteriorates with each tutorial, their pixelated skin cracking under the strain. The final reset scene mirrors the first tutorial frame-for-frame, except now their eyes are hollow. The lack of dialogue makes it hit harder. You don’t need exposition to feel the despair. It’s a commentary on grind culture, how systems break people without remorse. Not everyone’s cup of tea, but it’s a bold ending that refuses to sugarcoat.