The truth is out there, and so are the points — Sega’s 1997 The X Files captures the paranoid, fog-shrouded mood of the TV phenomenon on a six-player playfield, with a creepy alien-baby tube riding the right ramp and a file cabinet that rises from the playfield to swallow balls for multiball. Rob Hurtado designed it, Morgan Weistling lent the moody art, and a stop magnet, a pop-up trap door, and a mini-loop horseshoe round out an atmospheric layout that feels like a stakeout in pinball form.
Cleverly, the game even lets you pick your agent. Choosing Mulder makes the filing-cabinet multiball easier to reach, while Scully tilts you toward the harder “Truth” multiball, lit by hitting all the X targets — a neat bit of asymmetry that shapes your whole game. The tournament-tested strategy is cabinet multiball all day: a couple of hits and a lock at the cabinet, then run the jackpot sequence — left ramp twice, then the right ramp, then the file cabinet. It’s low-risk, repeatable, and the engine of nearly every big score on this title. The left ramp three times kicks off Tooms-mode, where mashing the plunger button for a few seconds banks easy points, while three right-ramp shots spell FBI and open the sewer hole for a mode. The machine even hands you one pity shot at the cabinet per drained ball, so multiball stays reachable on ball three even if you never aimed for it.
The X Files trades flashy toys for mood and a brilliantly simple risk-reward core. Pick your agent, work the cabinet, and trust no one at the lock — believe the jackpot sequence instead.