Dorian stared at the collection of project files on his producer's desk. Each one was a song, a fully mixed and mastered track, a potential follow-up to "Your Song." But the thought of releasing another one filled him with a sense of dread. It was not the creative process that scared him; it was the bureaucratic labyrinth of the Accord Commons Laws. The copyright application for his first song had been a nightmare of digital paperwork and arbitrary waiting periods. The thought of doing it all again was exhausting.
He leaned back in his chair, frustrated. Should he plan out a full album? Or should he just let the next song flow, a spontaneous release like he had done with Juno? He looked at his Stellarcast channel, twiddling with the layout, procrastinating.
Giving up for the moment, he navigated to his favorite channel, "Ewron Life." He needed a dose of pastoral tranquility. The latest video was titled "Winter is Coming." He watched as Ewron, the calm, kind-faced farmer, prepared his land for the coming cold, his flock of Cuckoo-chickens running wild in the background. At the end of the video, Ewron said his usual warm goodbye to his viewers. Just as he did, a single, perfect snowflake drifted down and landed on his shoulder. The video ended with the cam orb flying up, capturing a beautiful, wide shot of the first snow falling silently on the peaceful farm.
Dorian smiled as the video ended. He scrolled down to the comments, a familiar, comforting routine. Then, something caught his eye. A comment, then another, and another.
{Hey Ewron, I didn't know you were a game developer! Stardew Valley is amazing!}
{Is this the farm from the game? It looks so similar!}
{When did you have time to make a game AND run the farm? You're a legend!}
Dorian froze, a slow, dawning realization creeping over him. He had been watching "Ewron Life" for years. The quiet rhythm of the channel, the design of the farmhouse, the way the Cuckoo-chickens ran around... he had unconsciously absorbed it all. He had baked the soul of Ewron's real farm into the code of his own pixelated one.
He let out a low chuckle, a mixture of guilt and amusement. "Sorry, Ewron," he murmured to the empty room. "I guess your comment section is going to be full of these for a while."
A new, clear path forward suddenly opened up in his mind. He cracked his knuckles, a determined grin on his face, and swiveled his chair to face his gaming desk. He would not worry about the music for now. His game needed him.
He started working on the first major update for Stardew Valley. He would add new events. A "Broken Fence" event, where the player's chosen pet would chase one of Vincent's toys, leading to a new heart event. He would pull from the memories of other, similar games from his past life: the festivals from Harvest Moon, the relationship building of Story of Seasons, the crafting and community of My Time at Portia, even the combat and farming blend of Rune Factory.
And as he had learned when first making the game, he did not have to do it all himself. He would build the main story beats, the core mechanics, the key lines of dialogue. He would build the trunk of the tree. Then, he would hand it all over to Leo. The Compadre would do the mundane, processor-heavy work of linking the conversations, developing the branching paths of the story, and compiling the final code. Leo would grow the branches.
…
The Solar Medical Wing was a place of sterile white walls and hushed, clinical silence. Gale Amanar sat in the waiting room, one of a dozen Solars back from the front lines of the Outer Rims. The Accord presented these routine checks to the public as a service, a way to care for the mental well-being of its heroic soldiers. But every Solar knew the truth. It was an unspoken secret, a condition of their service. These sessions were loyalty tests, carefully designed to ensure the Accord's most powerful weapons had not been "tainted" by their proximity to the enemy.
Gale barely noticed the oppressive quiet. He was lost in another world, his heliopad balanced on his knees. He had been playing Stardew Valley every moment he was not training, eating, or sleeping. He was already in the middle of his third year in the game. The simple, peaceful rhythm of the farm was the perfect antidote to the chaos of the Rims. But a new, familiar frustration was setting in. He was hunting for the legendary fish. Willy's dialogue had given him all the hints, but the elusive creatures were proving impossible to catch.
A soft, clinical tap on his shoulder made him look up from his screen. A medical Compadre was hovering there, its optical sensor glowing a soft green. "Gale Amanar. Dr. Syko will see you now."
He put his heliopad in his bag and walked into the examination room.
The room was as sterile as the hallway. Dr. Einage Syko sat behind a minimalist white desk, a thin, unnerving smile on their face. "Ah, Mister Amanar. I was beginning to think you were nervous about our appointment."
"What? No," Gale said, taking the indicated seat. "I have been doing this for several years already."
Einage's smile did not reach their eyes. "That is what I am worried about. Please, sit down."
The session began like all the others, a series of questions designed to sound like therapy but feel like an interrogation. Einage's voice was calm, almost soothing, but the questions were sharp, precise, and probing. They were designed to detect the slightest hint of ideological deviation.
"How was your deployment to the Crimson Veil nebula?"
"Did you find the separatists' arguments for 'self-governance' compelling in any way?"
"Did you form any... attachments or sympathies with the local populace before pacification?"
Gale answered each question with the same carefully rehearsed, non-committal answers he had learned over the years. No, the enemy was misguided. Yes, the Accord's presence was a stabilizing force. No, his loyalty was absolute. He knew that some of the doctors here genuinely wanted to help with the psychological toll of the war, but they were rare. Einage Syko was not one of them.
After the loyalty portion was complete, Einage's demeanor shifted, becoming more relaxed, almost friendly. "And how have you been adjusting to your time back home? Any psychological issues to report?"
"No," Gale said, his own posture relaxing slightly. "I have been relaxing lately, so that has helped."
"Oh, relaxing, you say?" Einage said, a flicker of genuine interest in their voice. "With what kind of relaxation?"
"It is a game, about farming," Gale said, a small, genuine smile touching his lips for the first time. "It has really helped me take the edge off a bit."
"Oh, that is a new one," Einage said. "I have never heard of a game about farming. Is it not boring? Why not the new Battle for Xylos? I heard the Accord has expanded it with a DLC about the Battle of Primo VIII."
Gale almost snorted. "That Accord game? Naahh, it is bor–" He caught himself mid-word, the casual disdain freezing on his tongue. He scrambled for a plausible excuse. "–ed... I mean, I play it when I am bored. At home. You know, playing on a heliopad is not very comfortable, that is all. I already bought it on my Void account at my house."
Einage's smile returned, once again the kind that did not reach their eyes. They made a small note on their datapad. "Thank you for today, Mr. Amanar," they said, their voice once again a cool, clinical monotone.
…
Roric peeled off the neuro-dampening helmet, the cool, recycled air of his apartment a welcome shock after hours in the virtual battlefield. He ran a hand through his sweat-matted hair and checked his main monitor to make sure the stream had properly ended. It had.
He let out a long, weary sigh. "Holy..."
As a mid-size streamer on Stellarcast, his life was a constant grind. His average viewership hovered between one and three million, a respectable number but not enough to provide real security. He called out, his voice hoarse from hours of commentary.
"T2. Ready my bath, will you? And when I am in the bath, prepare the synth-meat and veggies."
"Yes, Master," his standard-issue AP-T2 Compadre replied robotically from its charging station.
Roric swiveled his chair to face his second monitor, the one dedicated to The Void, the game store and platform where he found all his content. It had been a hard month. The Accord had sanctioned a whole new blockade on one of the planetary sectors, and a huge chunk of his regular viewers were from there. Donations had been dangerously low. His job, which was already a relentless grind, was getting harder.
He sighed. Nothing to be done about it now. He scrolled through The Void's main page, looking for something, anything, interesting to play for tomorrow's stream. A waterfall of hyper-stylized banners flowed past his eyes. Explosions. Gleaming power armor. Alien monsters. It was all the same.
He was about to give up when, near the bottom of the "New Releases" list, a colorful, simple banner and logo caught his eye. The name was strange. Stardew Valley.
He clicked on it. The developer was listed as "Round Table Studios." He had never heard of them. They were definitely not a subsidiary of the Accord. And the game is about... farming. Of all things. He looked at the description, at the charming but simplistic cube art. He noticed it was not a VR title.
He glanced over at his bulky VR suit, still humming softly in its stand. A full day of streaming without being strapped into that sweaty thing... it could be a nice little break. On impulse, he bought it.
"T2, I am heading for the bath," he called out, standing up and stretching his aching back. He would play it tomorrow.
…
On the neighboring moon of Astra, at the equally prestigious Astra Nova Academy, Mala and Maree Brimen sat at a table in the grand dining hall, their lunch forgotten. They were both staring intently at Mala's heliopad, refreshing the "Percival" Stellarcast channel over and over again.
Maree slumped onto the table, her head resting on her arms. "Please," she groaned dramatically. "You can just upload vlogs, too. We do not mind."
"Yeahhh... huuu..." Mala sighed, her own disappointment palpable.
Their two friends, Narissa and Orra, just looked at each other and shook their heads. They had been witnessing this daily ritual for over a week now.
"I get it," Orra said, trying to be the voice of reason. "But I feel like his Echoflow version is better, anyway."
"But there is no video," Mala whined.
"Exactly," Maree added. "We cannot see his handsome face."
Narissa rolled her eyes. "You cannot even see his face in the video. How do you know he is handsome?"
"He has a good voice," Maree stated, as if it were an irrefutable law of the universe.
"So he has a good face, too," Mala concluded with the same flawless logic.
Orra and Narissa could only sigh and let the two of them keep dreaming in the middle of their lunch break.
Meanwhile, back in his apartment, Dorian was in the middle of texting Juno. He typed out 'meet at my place?', then his face contorted in a cringe. He quickly erased it all and typed 'good luck' instead. He looked over at his gaming desk, where Leo was busily working on fleshing out the half-baked story outlines Dorian had given him, the Compadre's optical sensor blinking as it requested clearance for a new dialogue branch.
Dorian sighed. He just kept missing Juno. It had been a while since he had seen her in person. He hastily tapped out a new message on his wristband. 'help me with a new song tomorrow?' He hit send before he could second-guess himself.
Then, the regret hit him like a physical blow. He groaned and covered his face. "Aaaagghhh, I cannot. Am I cringe?"
"Yes," Leo's voice came from the gaming desk's speakers. It paused, then added, "Very cringe."
Dorian stood up and pointed an accusatory finger at the desk. "What do you know?"
"I know that that is not how you talk to girls," Leo stated matter-of-factly.
Just then, a notification popped up on Dorian's wristband. It was Juno's reply. 'sure, after class.'
A smug, triumphant grin spread across Dorian's face. "See? It works."
"She took pity on you," Leo said.
Dorian's eyes narrowed. "Do I need to upgrade my desk to make your audio non-functional while you are docking?"
"No need," the Compadre replied instantly, its focus immediately shifting. "Oohh, would you look at that? There is a critical error in Abigail's code for this new event. Would you like me to fix it?"
Dorian kept his eyes narrowed, but a small smile played on his lips. "Good. Make sure you are still useful around here. Hehehehehe."
From the desk's speakers, so quiet it was almost inaudible, Leo muttered, "I have a deranged owner."
"What was that?" Dorian asked.
"Nothing!" Leo's voice was instantly cheerful again. "Just saying this code is so good that it is hard to spot the errors!"
⋘ 𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒂.. .⋙
🎮: Stardwey Valley: Completed.
🎬: -
♬:
- Your Name – Elton John (ch.9)
- Coming soon…
**A/N**
~Read Advance Chapter and Support me on [email protected]/SmilinKujo~
~🧣KujoW
**A/N**