Back at their Tech Tower apartment, after a quick dinner, Zoey Parker dragged Gus Harper into their home studio. "Let's do this! I'm pumped!"
For Zoey, this was a wild new chapter. From a clueless intern president to chief designer and director of a game! She'd always seen Gus's name in game credits, like a movie's end roll. On the big screen, his name owned the spotlight: Director: SamHarper. The vibe was electric, and now her name—Director: ZoeyParker—would shine. She was stoked.
Gus, amused by her hype, chuckled. "No project yet, Zoey. We gotta set one up first."
"Oh, right, project setup!" Zoey propped her chin on her hands, elbows on the table, thinking hard. Her feet swung in her slippers, eyes darting. "What game should we make?"
Gus had said small-scale, PC platform. It needed a unique hook to spark buzz, ideally in WindyPeak's wheelhouse for a sure win. Zoey wasn't dumb—she'd seen WindyPeak make over ten games. She knew what sold, even if losing money was her goal.
"Pixel style?" she blurted, grinning.
"Not bad," Gus said, crossing his arms. "Why?"
Zoey's brain flashed to Vampire Survivors. That game scarred her. A niche pixel style, tweaked by her "genius" and Gus's polish, it exploded, reviving pixel games. Small studios still aped its formula. A pixel mini-game now would ride that wave, fitting Gus's small-scope rule.
"Vampire Survivors was too big," Zoey said, shrugging. "Easy to keep small. Maybe a sequel?"
It made Gus a "Supernova." A sequel seemed like a cash grab.
Gus shook his head. "Pixel's fine, but a Vampire sequel? Nah. Too many copycats out there."
Zoey froze. Right! She wasn't here to make money. To trigger her rebate system, she needed a loss. Time to think like a flop-master.
How to tank a pixel game? Pixel style was blocky, low-res—streamlined, not flashy. What sucked in that format? Action. Pixel characters' clunky moves lacked punch. But wait—action (ACT) and MOBA games ruled PC markets. A pixel ACT might still pop off.
Zoey pivoted. Pixel style tanked at expressions—emotions like joy or fear got lost in blocky faces. Expressions tied to story, story to RPGs. Bam!
She clapped her hands. "Pixel-style story-driven RPG!"
Zoey flinched at her own idea. Damn, that's niche! Could it even sell? Too far?
But Gus clapped back. "Genius! Pixel-story RPG? Love it!"
Zoey broke a sweat. Wait, what?! Gus's hype meant trouble—her "lose money" plans always backfired into hits with him. Good thing this was charity; rebates ignored profits.
Gus grinned. Pixel RPGs were small, perfect for outsourcing, and wouldn't touch Outlast. For newbie Zoey, story focus dodged tricky action or balance issues. Nail the plot, and it's 90% done. Charity-themed, too. He had a vision.
"Give me two days to build the framework," Gus said.
Next morning, during breakfast, WindyPeak's project department got a surprise. Zoey strolled in with bagels and coffee, scanning the room.
Even Gus, mid-bite, chatting with Luke Bennett and Jake Rivers about Outlast, froze. The noisy office went dead quiet. All eyes on Zoey.
"Uh… hey…" Zoey grinned, awkward. "Keep chatting. I'm just… learning."
She was buzzing. Sleepless, like a kid before a field trip, she wanted to soak up game dev vibes before Gus's plan dropped. Cramming wouldn't make her a pro, but she'd prep for outsourcing talks.
Gus stuffed his bagel, clapped, and boomed, "Welcome, President Parker, to guide our work!"
Crash! Thunderous applause. Everyone stood, cheering, but confusion lingered. Zoey rarely hit the project floor—usually she was raiding snacks. Was she inspecting?
An hour later, doubts vanished. Post-breakfast, Zoey grabbed a notebook, parked behind Gus, and took notes like a star student. The team was floored. She's actually learning?
Zoey, WindyPeak's mascot boss, was loved. Her earnestness sparked excitement. She learned "swivel chair racing," zipping between programming, planning, and art teams, soaking up wisdom.
Luke explained coding: "Game dev's about scripting interactions using engines like Dream 5. You need coding and engine skills…"
Muneki Sato, ever polite, broke down planning: "We turn text into game style. Combat planners sync with animators for moves and skills, got it, Zoey?"
Jade Sierra and Yuki Kamikawa flanked her in art: "We design visuals per the style—concept art, scenes, characters, lighting, UI, animations…"
The vibe was electric. Zoey's humility boosted efficiency. Everyone pushed harder to show off, explaining with examples. Time flew—Zoey filled notebooks daily, more serious than in school. Headaches followed, but Gus massaged her head and answered questions.
Zoey marveled at game dev's complexity and Gus's multitasking genius. Her hype for the pixel RPG grew.
Three days later, back home, Zoey grabbed Gus, eyes sparkling. "Day three! Where's it at?"
Gus played dumb, stretching on the couch. "Day three? What?"
"The plan!" Zoey huffed.
"Plan…" Gus teased. "Blueprint?"
"No!" Zoey massaged his shoulders. "The story, the setting!"
"Story…" Gus mused. "Comic book?"
"Ugh!" Zoey bared her teeth. "What'd I learn for? Spill it!"
"Oh!" Gus laughed, clapping. "Got it!"
He pulled a book from his bag: C++ from Beginner to Mastery, with "Mastery" scratched out, now C++ from Beginner to Graveyard.
"I'll kill you!" Zoey lunged, fake-choking him.
Gus tapped the sofa, laughing. "Kidding! It's ready…"
Buzz. The living room projector lowered. A game cover appeared: a glowing moon, a lighthouse casting warm light on two embracing figures. Title: To the Moon.
Gus rubbed his neck. "To the Moon."