Taking part in the Nexon PEAK Post Challenge

After school, I’d run to the PC bang with my friends and boot up Sudden Attack, and in those few seconds while the loading bar slowly filled, my heart would already be pounding. Today, I want to talk about those days—standing in front of the loading screen of Sudden Attack, the old FPS no.1, and feeling that familiar rush before anything had even started.

Almost the instant homeroom ended, my friends and I would exchange a look, throw our bags over our shoulders, and head straight for the PC bang. Once we found our seats and double-clicked the Sudden Attack icon, that was when it really began. While the game loaded, we’d chat with the friend next to us—"What map are we doing today?" "Let’s go Third Supply"—and wait for that bar to creep forward. Looking back now, that waiting time feels like it was already part of the game.

There was always that moment on the loading screen when Sudden Attack’s unmistakable background music kicked in—that heavy, tense BGM only a military game could have. Even now, if I hear something with a similar mood, I’m reminded of the smell of the PC bang and the glow of the monitor. The moment that music started, I’d sit up a little straighter, check my mouse sensitivity one more time, and warm up my fingers. Nothing had started yet, but it already felt like I was locking into full focus.

There was that moment when the loading bar finally reached the end and the screen flipped over. My friends and I would yell, "Let’s go!" together, or sometimes say nothing at all and just tighten our grip on the mouse. Before the game had even started, we were already fully fired up. Looking back now, that loading screen feels like a kind of ritual—a boundary line between everyday life and the game. Maybe it was those few seconds that pulled us even deeper in.

These days, games load so fast there’s barely any time to feel that kind of excitement, but every now and then, I still miss that slow loading bar.