9 Elaborate Video Game Urban Legends Everyone Believed

Secret characters, hidden stages, unorthodox cheat codes: since the dawn of video games, developers have revelled in slyly implementing content that rewards players for leaving no stone unturned.

GoldenEye 007's Aztec and Egyptian stages, Dark Souls' plethora of optional bosses and areas and Mortal Kombat's storied history with unlockable characters, to name just a few, are the sorts of bonus content we've all imagined ourselves being the first to uncover and reveal to the world.

But even for the majority not lucky enough to stake claim to such discoveries, their revelation results in serious brownie points for developers willing to take the risk of covertly hiding content in their creations that could potentially never be found and enjoyed.

Such are the dastardly lengths that certain developers go to though (who thought to spam-search Wesker's desk 50 times in Resident Evil 2?), and even some of the wildest rumours gain traction, garnering belief that there's truth to the whispers.

We want to believe such extravagance has been curated specifically for our enjoyment.

Inevitably, that willingness leaves the gates wide open for professional liars to weave outlandish works of fiction, sprinkled with just enough believability that thousands get suckered into believing the tall tale.

The legend: So enamoured with the prospect of owning a one of a kind, supremely powerful Pokémon like no other, rumours regarding how to obtain Mewtwo's unwary creator began spreading across playgrounds of the 90s. One that stuck more than any other detailed the process of using the HM Strength to shunt a truck in Vermilion City which, in doing so, would reveal the mythical beast.

Much to the chagrin of many, only heartbreak followed when it emerged that the Hidden Machine did absolutely squat against its formidable four-wheeled opponent.

Where it came from: Prior to the now-legendary 'long-range Trainer' glitch becoming common knowledge, acquiring the "ancestor of all Pokémon" was the holy grail that every first generation Trainer desired, even more than a flimsy piece of card with Charizard's likeness printed on it.

Without the luxury of high-speed internet, in-depth video tutorials and widespread word of mouth, the method of obtaining the Pokédex's 151st member was ultimately left to the imagination. It just so happens that the unassuming truck parked outside the S.S. Anne became the most memorable one of all.