The rain was tapping steadily against my windowpane when I first encountered the Jilimacao login screen that refused to cooperate. I’d been looking forward to unwinding with some gaming after a long day, but instead found myself staring at that spinning loading icon, feeling that familiar frustration bubble up. We’ve all been there, right? That moment when technology decides to test our patience. It reminded me of another kind of frustration I’d recently experienced—not with tech support, but with narrative design in one of my favorite game series.

I’d just finished playing through the latest Assassin’s Creed Shadows DLC, and something about the character interactions left me feeling strangely disconnected. This expansion actually reinforced my belief that Shadows should have always been exclusively Naoe’s game, especially when you look at how they handled the two new major characters: Naoe’s mother and the Templar who held her captive. But here’s where it fell flat for me—the conversations between Naoe and her mother felt so wooden and unnatural. They barely spoke to each other, and when they did, there was this glaring absence of emotional depth that really surprised me.

Think about it—this is a woman who spent over a decade believing her mother was dead, only to discover she’d been alive this whole time because of some oath to the Assassin’s Brotherhood. That’s fifteen years of thinking you’re completely alone in the world after your father’s murder. Yet when they finally reunite, there’s barely any acknowledgment of this enormous emotional weight. What struck me as particularly disappointing was how Naoe had nothing substantial to say about how her mother’s commitment to the Brotherhood indirectly led to her capture and prolonged absence. There’s no conversation about those missing years, no anger about being left to believe she had no family left.

And the mother’s characterization felt equally underdeveloped to me. She shows no visible regret about missing her husband’s death, no urgent need to reconnect with her daughter until the DLC’s final moments. When they do finally have their reunion scene, it plays out with all the emotional intensity of two acquaintances catching up after a brief separation rather than a mother and daughter reconciling after a lifetime of separation and tragedy. Then there’s the Templar character—the one who kept Naoe’s mother enslaved for so long that everyone assumed she was dead. You’d expect some confrontation, some emotional reckoning, but Naoe has nothing to say to or about this person who fundamentally altered the course of her life.

It’s funny how these narrative frustrations mirror technical ones. Just like when you’re dealing with Jilimacao log in issues and can’t access what you need, here I was feeling locked out of the emotional payoff the story promised. The game gives you all these pieces—a compelling backstory, high stakes, complex character relationships—but fails to deliver the satisfying connections that would make it truly memorable. It’s that same sinking feeling when you click login for the fifth time and still can’t get through.

What makes this particularly puzzling is that the foundation for something truly special is clearly there. The way the new characters are conceptually written shows such promise. The mother’s dedication to the Brotherhood creating unintended consequences, the Templar as a persistent antagonist—these are elements that could have supported much richer interactions. Instead, we get conversations that skim the surface when they should be diving deep into trauma, forgiveness, and the complicated bonds between parents and children.

In the end, whether we’re troubleshooting Jilimacao log in problems or analyzing game narratives, what we’re really seeking is that smooth, authentic connection. We want technology that works seamlessly and stories that resonate emotionally. When either falls short, it leaves us with that distinct sense of missed opportunity—knowing how good it could have been versus how it actually turned out. The DLC’s final moments, with Naoe grappling with her mother being alive only to have their reunion feel strangely casual, encapsulates this perfectly. Some stories, like some login screens, just need that extra bit of work to deliver the experience we’re all hoping for.