GameDev Reincarnated into His Own Creation

Prologue, Part I: Setup

Moriya leaned back in his chair, spinning his glass between his palms. "Man, that's rough. Nothing like the old days, huh? Remember when our biggest worry was Shizuka's dragon textures going haywire?"

"All their heads twisted backward while they moved." Giri chuckled, the memory briefly lightening his mood. "Simpler times."

"Before corporate buzzwords," Moriya nodded, taking a long drink.

The conversation flowed easily between them. Giri vented about technical challenges and corporate pressure while Moriya listened with the understanding of someone who'd once lived the same dream. Before financial reality forced him to leave their perfect trio—Moriya the sound engineer, Shizuka the artist, and Giri the programmer.

"Remember when we were planning the Earth Primordial?" Giri asked, a smile tugging at his lips. "You insisted on recording actual earthquake sounds."

"Hey, authenticity matters!" Moriya laughed. "Though maybe breaking that flower pot was a bit much."

The warmth of shared memories filled the space between them, but Giri could see something in his friend's eyes—a distance that hadn't been there before. He set down his glass, considering his words carefully.

"Hey Moriya, are you sure you won't consider coming back to the project? I know it's a lot different compared to the past, but what we're working on is really big. I could put in a few words—"

Moriya shook his head with a gentle smile, the rejection clear before he even spoke.

"Thanks, Giri. I really appreciate that you'd even ask. But... what I have now, it's working for me, you know? If I'm strapped for cash, I can take on more clients. If I need a break, I just... take one. That kind of freedom... I can't give that up again."

"Corporate work has consistency, sure, but it doesn't really give me time to spend on what I'm making. Now I can actually care about each project."

"I know it's not the dream we used to share, but I'm okay with where I am."

The rejection stung, but it held truth. Moriya had found his balance—the freedom to choose his projects, the money he needed, the time to actually care about what he was making. Why would he come back to this corporate nightmare?

But Moriya wasn't him. Giri couldn't just walk away from what he'd spent five years building, every single day pouring his vision into code. This was his life's work, even if SolarTech now controlled how that work got shaped.

Giri forced a smile and nodded. "You're right, I get it. I miss that kind of freedom too."

"Hey, what's with that face?" Moriya leaned forward, his voice gentle but firm. "It's not that what you're doing isn't important."

"I've read the news. You and SolarTech are slowly pushing technology forward in this world. Our game has grown bigger than we ever dreamed—though the purpose might be shifted, it's still changing lives whether you believe it or not."

"Do you know how proud I felt when I drove through the central market and saw three banners for the game?"

Giri's expression softened slightly. "Yeah, sorry. The grass is always greener on the other side."