By skyforbes No one warns you how personal this job becomes. You are not just making features. You are putting pieces of yourself into things that might get changed, rewritten, or cut without warning. You learn to let go a lot. A mechanic you loved disappears. A character you shaped gets redesigned. A whole level you built gets tossed out because the pacing no longer works. You try not to take it personally, but a part of you always does.
There is also the strange loneliness of creating something for months before anyone outside the team ever sees it. You build a world that exists only in your head and in unfinished builds. You hope that one day players will step into it and actually feel something. You hope the tiny detail you fought for will make someone pause for a second. You hope it will matter at least a little.
And in the end there is nothing dramatic about it. We are just making a game. Doing our craft. Trying to shape something real out of chaos, feedback, and half broken prototypes. And I try to hold on to that idea every time I come in to work.