There was once a time when writing about video games meant addressing a specifically young demographic. Older folks, marketing analysis told us, simply didn’t waste their time in front of the gaming systems they felt were rotting the brains of America’s youth — and as such, approaching the topic from a serious and analytical perspective was an exercise in futility. For what audience would you hope to bring a real-world perspective to a digital playground?

But in the past few years, things have changed.

Video games, once aimed directly at prepubescent boys with aggression to work through, are now fully realized worlds aimed at drawing in players of all ages. Button tappers and first-person shooters remain, but where stories were once a few lines of text that distracted you from a loading screen, they are now at the forefront of the gaming experience. “The Last of Us,” a third person zombie/apocalypse survival game, might be better described as a movie that you participate in — complete with better character development that we’ve seen in multiple seasons of “The Walking Dead” and a heart-wrenching plot that should come with a disclaimer for fathers with young daughters.

Among the initiated, the stories the precede the game you’re playing is often referred to as “lore.” Just like its real-world counterpart, gaming lore has become the subject of extensive analysis and debate among those passionate about their games. Sometimes, Lore is developed as an afterthought for a franchise that has existed for years (like in the case of the Fallout games). In other instances, games are developed from their very inception to contain a robust in-game history you can choose to explore or disregard as you meander your way through open worlds. The “Mass Effect” franchise, for instance, could probably give Star Trek a run for its money regarding alien cultures and histories to wax on about on Reddit and in Facebook groups.

For those interested in nothing more than the gaming experience, this shift away from mindless button-smashing and toward emotional investment has served to make the games all the more engrossing — becoming a reality all its own to escape into. Just like with a good TV show, movie or book, being invested in the characters in a story gives the story new meaning, new weight in your psyche. Logically, you know the characters aren’t real, just like you know that the dog in “Old Yeller” isn’t actually getting shot but there, in the moment, the emotion is real nonetheless. It’s not the same level of pain that you feel when a real loved one dies, but emotions are elicited all the same.

Video games have always been about escapism, but in recent years the level of escape offered by the best in video games has exceeded the grasp of many traditional outlets — thanks in large part to the role the viewer gets to play — which is why video game consoles have become a facet of college dorms and military barracks the world over. College kids and young service members, away from home for the first time in their lives and often feeling largely helpless when it comes to the direction their lives are heading can escape the real struggle by voluntarily thrusting themselves into the fake ones of the digital world, but recognizing that begs one serious question: why?

After a long day of carrying assault rifles, wearing heavy gear and patrolling a half destroyed city, it’s time to unwind by playing a game about carrying assault rifles, wearing heavy gear and patrolling a half destroyed city — with jetpacks! | Activision

If you’re a young Marine, deployed in a combat zone and just returning from a twelve-hour long patrol in which you spent the better part of your day cycling between boredom and adrenaline-fueled fear — why on earth would you want to strip off your gear and jump straight into playing Halo against your buddies, shooting space rifles at opponents and trying to keep your digital ass in one piece? The idea of seeking refuge from real combat stress by engulfing yourself in fictional combat stress seems counterintuitive, but that may be because that’s only a superficial appreciation for what gaming really offers. Playing games offers you the ability to experience a wide range of emotions, to blow off steam, and sometimes most importantly, a chance to shoot your best friend in the face with a laser cannon — but beneath the surface, what gaming actually offers is a simple, logical progression of narrative.

That last sentence sounded painfully like something a graduate school student would write and leave hanging, hoping the vague meaning and long string of syllables would serve as the “emperor’s new clothes” of thesis statements: if you don’t get it, it’s because you’re just not on my analytical level. What I meant to say (in non-pretentious English) is that cause and effect applies in the video game world, and it just doesn’t (in an appreciable way) out here in real life.