I Talk to Fresh Spawns Now

My son waving beside a road sign pointing to Kamyshovo and Solnechny in DayZ — My son, during one of his first journeys through Chernarus.

I used to shoot fresh spawns who came too close to my base.

It was nothing personal. In DayZ, the harmless guy wearing a T-shirt and carrying a plum can return twenty minutes later with a shotgun and three friends. Killing him was simply the safest option.

Then I made a video about the friendships I found in DayZ.

While working on it, I realized that my best memories from the game were not the weapons I found, the bases I built or the players I killed. They were the unexpected conversations. The strangers I decided not to shoot. People I met by accident and still remember long after losing everything else.

Something changed after I published that video.

Now, when a fresh spawn appears near my base, I try to talk first.

Some of them run away. Some lie. Some become aggressive and get shot anyway. This is still DayZ, and I have not become a pacifist.

But sometimes they answer.

And for a few minutes, the game stops being about defending walls and protecting loot. There is another person on the other side of the screen, with a story I know nothing about.

Maybe he will betray me. Maybe I will never see him again. Maybe this will become one of those encounters I remember years from now.

Apparently, telling a story can change the person telling it.

Now I talk to fresh spawns.