Those who spent their childhood and adolescence in the 1990s and 2000s know this affinity with video games. Their personal history was largely shaped by countless hours spent before a console, a symbol of playful escape (and sometimes frustration) in which the world faded before the one offered by the television or computer screen. During these blessed years for this particular generation, these moments counted among the most precious sources of pleasure. These treasures took different forms: those over thirty remember cartridges, CD-ROMs, Blu-ray discs... which are threatened with being reduced to museum relics. We well remember the excitement that followed us on the path leading to the acquisition of these objects whose insertion into the console was generally an important phase of this particular delight that began as soon as we touched the cover, or when we felt the cartridge... and which continued when the game started. A unique experience that now risks belonging only to history with Sony's announcement that it will end the sale of physical games in January 2028. From that date, new PlayStation games will no longer be available on physical disc. For those who had this relationship with the video game world since those golden ages, this news was a blow, the end of an era and the beginning of a new one in which longtime fans risk no longer recognizing themselves. From 2028 onwards, stores will no longer be a means of accessing new games that cannot do without the internet. At that point, ownership will seem much less concrete than when you have well-material objects. It is then as if one only obtained the right to access it and not the possession of the work. A material dispossession that also deprives us of the possibility of reselling the titles we have finished or those fraternal moments during which we exchanged them. Philosopher Walter Benjamin argued that the work of art, in the age of technical reproducibility, loses part of its 'aura' when it is reproduced in multiple copies and ceases to be unique. But a video game, once purchased, possesses its own history and is inscribed in a biography where it acquires a singularity that transcends its industrial origin. Its cover has aged in a particular way, its case has been scratched over time according to a history that is its own... It was thus the era when a video game was not a simple file: its material support was the repository of a memory. Fenitra Ratefiarivony