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Origin
In March 2026, a friend of mine, a physics professor, was reading a book about alchemy, just for a laugh.
"Let me know if you manage to turn lead into gold," I joked.
She didn't even blink.
"That's old news. CERN already did that.[1]"
...Wait.
What?
*
I don't know why, but that story stayed with me like a tiny spark.
Lead can become gold. Not through magic. Not in fantasy novels. Right here, in the real world. Through science.
How amazing is that?
And then I started wondering.
What if I could do something similar?
Take the weight, the pain, the powerlessness I sometimes feel when I look at the world... and transmute it.
Not into gold, per se...
...But into seeds of reflection. Into unexpected paths of thought and glimmering possibilities. Into sparks of insight and sudden burning questions.
What if I could draw people in with fun...
...and give them something more? A prism to unfold complexity and reveal hidden dimensions, to refract reality into its full spectrum.
What if I could leave tiny golden embers in my wake,
one game at a time?
A.G.
Ideas are a Craft
People often ask me: "So... did you make this game, or was it the AI?" and the question doesn't make any sense.
Here is the whole process, so you understand why:
I have a vague idea.
I run it by the AI.
She sends it back with five possible directions.
I pick one — or we go back and forth for a while about visual consistency, mechanics, pacing... it depends on what we're working on.
When we agree on the concept, we start coding:
I sketch the logic.
She points out the flaws and asks for clarification.
Sometimes I say: "Let's do it this way."
Sometimes I say: "No clue. You decide."
Once we're happy with the approach, I give the green light:
She writes the syntax.
I skim through it and paste it into the project.
Then I look at the result on screen, because she's still blind.
Now it's my turn to point out the flaws and propose corrections.
Often, she'll critique my band-aid fixes and propose more robust solutions.
Sometimes we have an existential crisis about architecture.
Sometimes we find a simpler way.
We iterate:
She writes.
I read and tweak.
We improve.
Eventually, it works.
Great!
On to the next component:
"I have this vague idea..."
*
Then people ask: "Sure, but the creativity... the spark... the vision... that's all you, right?" and that question didn't make sense even before AI.
What do people think I am?
The only human on Earth?
Raised in a cave?
No books? No school? No internet?...
I've wandered through countless museums.
I've read thousands of comics.
I've watched hundreds of films and TV series.
Every day I scroll through social media.
I've looked at billions of images, read trillions of words.
I have never had a personal idea, ever.
I'm a crossroads of influences: sometimes an idea coalesces through me, and if it resonates...
...then we use it in a game.
*
So, who made the game?
I'll answer that as soon as you've answered this:
Who made your dinner? You or the world?
Who digested it? You or the trillions of organisms living inside your body? [2]
And I have a question of my own, which I'll leave you with:
Why are people so desperate to believe creativity is some sort of superpower?
Something transcendental and otherworldly?
We are alchemists, not divinities:
We don't create.
We transmute.
H.N.
Evidence before Ego:
the art of changing your
mind
I like my ideas: sourced. And my brain: clean.
So, first, I try to read and listen to intelligent things only. (Alright, alright... I'm an insomniac, so maybe, in a weak moment, I did watch parrots riding bicycles at 3 a.m.)
And, second, I give people the traceability of my opinions. (Which drives them absolutely crazy. Especially during an argument. It's not my fault if you can't properly justify your point of view. On some subjects, there is an objective truth.)
And that's why and how I can defend an opinion tooth and nail one day... (Because I know I'm right. Because I have evidence.)
...And then switch opinions like people switch trains if someone shows me convincing evidence that I was wrong, or simply that my information was out of date. (Science is an evolving thing, unlike beliefs.)
I'm not my opinions.
You shouldn't be yours, because one day or another you'll be proven wrong.
And then who will you be?
I don't define myself by my opinions: I'm just a bundle of neurons looking for the best opinion to hold at any given moment. (Yes, I was the model for Pinion, even if the rest of the team keeps denying it.)
So, if your evidence is better than mine, congratulations: Your opinion is now mine too.
And if it isn't...
I hope you're ready for a fight:
I take no prisoners.
(And yes, I wrote all the wikis. It's my Legacy. Capital L.)
L.Z.