The Scent of Chaotic Tragedy

After returning home like that, I pushed aside my trembling heart and immediately checked my laptop.

“Alright… let’s get started right away, shall we?”

After entering the password, the familiar screen appeared, unchanged from usual. But in one corner of that screen, an icon I had never seen before was glowing.

“It’s really there…”

Unlike the program I used in my previous life, this icon had a completely different appearance. I immediately dragged the mouse over and clicked it. Then, Deus Ex Machina revealed itself on the laptop screen.

A narration echoed in my head.

“…What?”

I couldn’t ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠help but ask back. The idea that I could apply whatever a person imagined without needing a mouse or keyboard was nothing short of revolutionary.

“…Isn’t it obvious?”

“Well, that’s true, but even the AI in my world wasn’t at this level.”

Not just here—back in my previous life too. I hadn’t completely avoided using AI while working, but it had only ever been a minor assistant. There had never been a full-fledged support function like this. On top of that, this AI didn’t even require pressing keys one by one; it could input the code just from imagination.

‘Well, I guess this world has its own versions too…’

Since there was even a master AI managing the entire city’s systems, the AI performance itself might be comparable to Deus Ex Machina. The difference was that those AIs hadn’t developed in the direction of ‘creation.’ After all, they had already made everything that could be made here, and there was no motivation to advance further. Society could be maintained just fine without it.

I continued exploring the app’s functions a bit more.

“Looks like some basic coding knowledge is still required, after all.”

That was something I already had down pat, so it wasn’t a big deal. How could I have worked as a developer without even knowing that? Well, it wasn’t the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠cheat-level ability I had imagined… but just shortening the development time this much was already enough. Thinking of something in my head and bringing it into the world—though it might be a little troublesome, wasn’t that the very charm of creation? In that sense, being able to preserve the joy of creation was actually a good thing for me.

After digging through a few more functions, I arrived at one conclusion.

“…This is really good, isn’t it?”

It was practically like having an entire game development studio at my fingertips. As expected from a constellation story—filled with surreal abilities.

“Then let’s do a performance test first.”

I immediately thought of a code in my head. The simplest one that came to mind right now: movement via arrow keys. WASD. A code that allowed movement in all four directions—up, down, left, right—using both the arrow keys and WASD.

-Tap tap tap!

The moment I finished imagining it, the keys began pressing themselves automatically. When I glanced at the screen, the program was typing out everything I had imagined in my head, character by character, without missing a single one. How much time had passed while listening to that pleasant typing sound?

In less than a minute, the code I had wanted to create appeared on the screen. As expected, the result was exactly as I had imagined.

“This is insane, seriously…”

Even for me, inputting all that code from scratch would have taken at least two minutes, but here it was, producing this result in under sixty seconds. Alright, the performance test seemed mostly done… so now there was only one thing left to do.

“First, let’s sketch out the basic framework, shall we?”

It was time to make plans before starting the game.

A program that let one person handle work that would normally require hundreds of people—essentially a cheat code—had fallen into my hands. But that didn’t mean I could just make anything.

‘Because it’s not just about making something and stopping there.’

In my previous life on Earth, in the cold land of Norway, there had been a warehouse. It stored seeds of every plant, prepared for the apocalypse that would someday come. Those seeds were preserved solely for humanity’s future, but the reason they were kept was ultimately so they could one day be taken out of the warehouse and used. The preservation program here was the same. It wasn’t just about creating games—it was about reviving culture in this world once more. To do that, it was important to get other people besides me to play the games.

“Well, having those elements wouldn’t be bad either.”

Even the melodramatic parts of Korean movies, famous for always following the same pattern, became popular when shown in other countries. It wasn’t usually because those parts were particularly well-made, but because the countries where the films were screened had relatively fewer melodramatic elements. And this was a world where all emotions were unfamiliar. In other words, whether it was melodrama or horror—simply including those emotions had meaning.

Let’s see, then what I need to make is…

“Might as well throw everything in.”

It was just a feeling. Since they were all more or less the same anyway, I might as well do what the constellations wanted. No matter what I put in, I didn’t have to worry about hearing complaints that it was cliché. The moment I thought that, text appeared on the computer screen.

“Oh…”

I had been a bit worried since I wasn’t the type to keep good records, but it seemed like it saved everything for me. Good.

“Now that the outline is roughly set, what should we do next?”

Once the basic planning for what kind of game to make was finished, there were usually two options. Prioritize character design and setting, or establish the broad framework of the story first. Well, in a game company where either approach worked, the results were generally similar. Story and charming characters—those two elements were inseparable. ‘And between the two, there’s a subtle conflict too.’ Well, I wasn’t sure if it could really be called a conflict. In short, the debate was whether a game that pleased the eyes was a masterpiece, or whether a work whose story lingered in people’s minds long after finishing was the true masterpiece. Rather than one being definitively correct, it was more of a matter of taste.

As expected.

It seemed opinions were divided even among the constellations, as an active exchange of views was taking place. Well, it was hard to point to any one side as definitively correct. Once again, I decided to actively reflect our constellations’ opinions…

“……Me?”

The spark had landed on me. This was troublesome. No matter which side I picked, the other would sulk. What should I do?

“But what does the order even matter…”

Wait, now that I thought about it, it wasn’t like I had to give up one or the other. In the end, I had to do both anyway, so why were they so obsessed with the order?

“Ah…”

So that was why. They were all severe workaholics. I should have realized it the moment they poured their entire fortune into an Incarnation Support Program just to make one game. It seemed like the only normal one here was Celestial Art God. Well, anyway. If I had to choose one…

“I think the story side sounds more plausible to me.”

What else… because I had experienced it firsthand. Adam shuddered as he recalled the game from his previous life that had collapsed because of a terrible story. Even though it was a different world, that shock and terror seemed to transcend dimensions and reach him once more.

…She really knows her stuff.