The Scent of Chaotic Tragedy
After returning home like that, I pushed aside my trembling heart and immediately checked my laptop.
Incarnation Support Program, Deus Ex Machina activates
Ecstasy Art God shouts, "Is it finally time to work?!"
The majority of Constellations cheer wildly!
"Alright... shall we get started quick then?"
As soon as I entered the password, the god-awful screen that appeared was the same as always. But in the corner of that screen, an icon I'd never seen before in my life was blinking.
"It's really there..."
It was completely different from the icons of the programs I used. I immediately dragged the mouse and clicked the icon.
Then, Deus Ex Machina revealed itself on the laptop screen.
Welcome
"I will now explain the functions of this Incarnation Support Program."
"This program guarantees the utmost convenience for the Incarnation."
"The Incarnation's imagination becomes reality!"
"When utilizing Deus Ex Machina's functions, it leverages an AI system to code and implement the content exactly as the Incarnation imagines."
"...What?"
I couldn't help but blurt that out. No need for mouse or keyboard—just applying whatever a person imagines directly? That was practically a revolution.
Celestial Art God asks if this is really something worth getting so excited about.
"Isn't it obvious?"
String Art God asks if technology hasn't advanced here either.
"Well, yeah, but even the AI in my world wasn't this advanced."
Not just here—even in my previous life. Sure, we used AI while working, but it was just minor assistance. Nothing like full-on support functions.
And on top of that, an AI that inputs code just from imagination, without even touching the mouse or keyboard? Insane.
Well, they probably have something like that here too...
The city-wide Master AI managing the entire system was probably on par with Deus Ex Machina in performance. The difference? Those AIs weren't developed for creation.
Everything that could be made here already had been. No drive to advance further. Society ticked along fine without it anyway.
I poked around the app's functions a bit more.
"Looks like you still need basic coding knowledge."
Which I had in spades, so no issue. How could you be a developer without it? Not quite the cheat-level power I imagined, but slashing production time like this was plenty.
Thinking something in my head and bringing it to the world. Might be a hassle sometimes, but wasn't that the charm of creation?
Preserving the joy of creation made it perfect for me.
After digging through a few more features, I reached one conclusion.
"...This is insanely good."
It was basically a full game studio crammed into one program. As expected from Constellation stuff—packed with surreal powers.
"Alright, time for a performance test."
I immediately pictured code in my head. The simplest thing that came to mind.
WASD movement via arrow keys. Up, down, left, right—full directional control.
Tap tap tap!
The moment I finished imagining, the keyboard started clacking on its own. Peeking with one eye, the program was typing out every single bit I'd envisioned, letter for letter, without missing a thing.
How long had that satisfying typing sound gone on?
Ding!
"Process completed."
Less than a minute later, the code I'd aimed to create appeared. Naturally, it matched my imagination perfectly.
"This is god-tier..."
Even for me, typing that from scratch would've taken at least two minutes. And it spits this out in under sixty seconds?
Nice. Performance test passed with flying colors...
Now, only one thing left to do.
"Let's sketch out the basic framework first."
Time to plan before diving into game dev.
This program—essentially a cheat that let one guy handle work for hundreds—was now in my hands.
But I couldn't just whip up anything willy-nilly.
It's not just about making it.
In my previous life on Earth, frigid Norway had a certain warehouse. Stockpiling seeds from every plant species to prepare for an apocalypse someday. Those seeds sat preserved solely for humanity's future—but the whole point was to eventually take them out and use them.
This world's Arts and Culture Preservation Program was the same. Not just making games, but reviving culture here. For that, others besides me had to play them.
Lyric Art God suggests something touching and emotional.
One silent Constellation finally speaks up, asking if you can't throw in some dark, depraved stuff.
"Yeah, something like that would be good."
Those Korean movies famous for their repetitive melodrama? They blow up overseas not because the sob stories are masterpieces, but because those countries have way less melodrama to begin with.
And here? Emotions are totally alien. Melodrama, horror—whatever. Just having those feelings in there makes it meaningful.
Let's see... so what to make?
"Just throw everything in—a big ol' mix."
Whatever. They're all the same in the end. Might as well do whatever the Constellations want.
No way it'd come off as clichéd anyway.
The moment that thought crossed my mind, text etched itself onto the computer screen.
Meeting Minutes #1
Basic genre: Indie game. Sub-genre: Depraved or Touching
"Oh..."
I wasn't great at record-keeping, but good thing it auto-saves stuff like this.
"Alright, rough outline done. What's next?"
Once basic planning's set for what game to make, choices boil down to two: Prioritize character design and settings, or nail down the story framework first?
Either way works for a solid studio—end results are similar. Story and compelling characters? Non-negotiables.
And there's this weird tension between them.
Not sure if "tension" is the word. Basically, is a game with eye-candy visuals the masterpiece, or one with a lingering story that people talk about forever?
Not about right answers—more taste differences.
And sure enough...
Epic Art God shouts, "Even crappy art gets called a masterpiece with a good story!"
A few Constellations question that statement.
Laurel Art God urges prioritizing characters, warning good stories get buried without notice.
Some Constellations chime in: "Gotta look good first to pull aggro, right?"
Opinions split even among the Constellations—lively debate unfolding before my eyes.
Hard to pick a winner here. So, I'd incorporate the Constellations' views as much as possible...
Epic Art God shouts, "Instead of arguing among ourselves, why not ask the Incarnation?"
The majority of Constellations agree.
"...Me?"
And just like that, the hot potato landed in my lap. Great.
Pick one side, the other sulks. What now?
"But seriously, why does the order even matter...?"
Wait—neither gets abandoned. We gotta do both eventually. Why obsess over sequence?
Celestial Art God sighs, "Everyone's just dying to get to work ASAP."
Epic Art God snaps at the maknae, "Quiet down and behave."
"Ah..."
Figures. Hardcore workaholics. Should've known when they dumped their entire fortunes into the Incarnation Support Program just for one job.
Only normal one seemed to be Celestial Art God.
Anyway. If forced to pick...
"Story feels more solid to me."
Epic Art God lets out a cheer.
Laurel Art God asks for the reason behind that choice.
What reason? I've been burned by it.
Adam shuddered, recalling games from his past life ruined by killer stories gone wrong. Different world, but the trauma crossed dimensions.
Tragic Art God's eyes sparkle: "I smell chaotic tragedy somewhere!"
The majority of Constellations yell, "Cut the ominous crap!"
...That one's got some insight.