Making Game: CH 164 – I Choose You! (Patreon)

Weeks had passed since the massive hiring wave. Far above the planetary surfaces, deep inside the Accord Hyperspace Charter Control Station, Lockley sat bathed in the cool blue light of his monitoring terminal.

His fingers danced rapidly across the sprawling holographic console. "Transit vector zero-niner is clear. I'm rerouting the civilian convoys to sub-lane delta to avoid the particle drag."

He swiped a cluster of data streams to the side and opened a direct comm line. "Station command, please confirm localized gravity tethering on sector forty-five. We have a mass-shadow fluctuating near the third relay."

A crisp confirmation beep echoed in his headset. Lockley nodded and recalibrated the digital sliders. "Understood. Adjusting phase variance now to compensate. Synchronizing the jump gates." He gripped the primary holographic lock and pushed it firmly forward until it clicked into place. "Sector forty-five locked in."

That was it. He leaned back in his hover chair and let out a long sigh. The heavy lifting of his shift was finally over. All he had to do now was monitor the automated flow of the remaining hyperlanes.

He turned his attention to the far corner of his desk. Resting quietly beside his data pads was a small ceramic pot holding a vibrant green fern. Ever since the images of the Round Table Studio headquarters leaked to the public, featuring their incredible indoor conservation spaces, a wave of corporate workers had started bringing bits of nature into their sterile environments. Lockley was no exception.

He picked up his small watering can, gave the soil a careful sprinkle, and then mindlessly opened his web browser to the Avalon forums.

The Pokémon subsection was moving at a frantic pace. Threads were refreshing by the second, all discussing a brand new trailer.

Lockley raised an eyebrow. "Did they add a new region already? Maybe the Sinnoh region that Eevee Bedivere teased back then?"

Curious, he tapped the attached link. It was an entirely new side game from the franchise called Pokémon Arena.

The video player expanded across his screen. The trailer opened with a minimalist background split cleanly into white and red, mimicking the shape of a Pokéball. The screen suddenly spun, shifting perspective to reveal a young boy in a red jacket. It was Red, the protagonist of the FireRed series stood with his back to the camera. He turned his red and white hat around, adjusting the brim downward in an iconic, serious pose. A massive Charizard stepped up behind him and unleashed a deafening roar that shook the audio speakers.

The scene transitioned. A gold and black hat spun through the air into the arena. A boy caught it seamlessly and placed it on his head. It was Ethan, the protagonist of HeartGold. Beside him, a towering Feraligatr bared its sharp teeth while Ethan flashed a confident smile.

The camera cut again. This time it followed the tip of a white beanie bobbing up and down as someone walked onto the field. Brendan from OmegaRuby stepped into view. He tilted his head with a relaxed smirk. A sudden gust of wind swept up around him, swirling with sharp green leaves as a Sceptile leaped into the frame and let out a fierce screech.

The camera began to circle the center of the stadium, showcasing the three protagonists standing back to back, fully prepared for battle. The three trainers threw their Pokéballs in perfect unison. As the capsules burst open in flashes of light, the camera panned high up into the stadium sky to reveal a glowing Pokémon sigil. Bold, golden letters materialized over the arena.

Pokémon Arena.

Lockley was completely hooked. His heart beat faster just watching the cinematic. This looked like a dedicated, deeply fleshed out battle simulator for the franchise. His mind was already racing with strategies, eager to min-max the most optimal team he could possibly build.

The music swelled as the trailer reached its final seconds, transitioning to a massive hardware announcement.

Text flashed across the screen detailing a brand new update to the physical Pokégg accessories. The studio was launching the Pokégg 2.0, allowing users to battle their Pokémon in real life. The screen showcased an all new holographic attachment for the original 1.0 devices, while announcing that the new 2.0 version had the holo emitter built directly into the casing without needing extra attachments.

Lockley widened his eyes. He stared at his terminal, a sudden realization washing over him. 'Maybe it's not too late to buy these Pokégg.' He shook his head, making a quick adjustment to his plan. He was going to buy two of them so his wife could play alongside him.

…

The Avalon forums buckled under the weight of the traffic within minutes of the trailer going live. Discussion boards across every galactic sector splintered into hundreds of active threads, each moving too fast for standard moderation filters to keep up.

A post from a user named cosplayer_mom shot straight to the top of the trending feed. The upload featured a holo-album of her three young children dressed in miniature replicas of the outfits from the cinematic. The oldest boy adjusted a tiny red cap over his eyes, the middle child beamed in Ethan's black and gold visor, and the youngest waddled across the rug in Brendan's knit beanie.

The comments melted immediately.

"I can't handle this level of cuteness so early in the morning," one user replied.

"The middle one even has Ethan's grin down to a science," another wrote. "RTS needs to put these kids in their next promotional holovid."

The wholesome energy spilled directly into a neighboring thread, where a ten-year-old boy had uploaded a snapshot of his Heliopad. The screen showed a verified, completed Pokédex with all one hundred and fifty-one entries glowing in gold. In his other hand, the boy held his scuffed, original Pokégg like a trophy, captioning the post with a bold declaration that he was ready to battle any trainer in the Accord.

The thread accumulated thousands of replies within an hour.

"Why is one of the Elite Four casually challenging us on a public forum?"

"I have a strong gut feeling that kid is going to become the first Champion. Someone keep an eye on him."

The announcement of Pokémon Arena did something far larger than simply teasing a new game. It cracked open the collective imagination of the player base. Until now, people had viewed the franchise through the lens of a classic role-playing adventure. 

The arena concept proved that the creatures could exist in entirely different frameworks. Speculation ran wild. Players began drafting concepts for tactical strategy titles, wilderness photography expeditions, and high-speed mount racing.

Amid the flood of memes and team builds, an essay posted in the general discussion hub caught massive traction.

The title was simple: RTS is sitting on a perpetual goldmine. Do they even realize it?

The author laid out a detailed breakdown of the studio's trajectory. Round Table Studio had already proven their ability to forge critical masterpieces, yet Pokémon was an entirely different phenomenon. It was an all-encompassing vessel that could hold every kind of person in the galaxy. Hardcore tacticians found endless depth in type matchups and stat distribution. Casual players fell in love with collecting and raising their companions. Children saw adventure, while elderly settlers found comfort in digital pets that never grew frail.

A phrase that had recently begun circulating through the community was cited in bold letters: Every Pokémon has fans.

The author concluded that if every single monster possessed a dedicated following somewhere in the stars, Round Table Studio had effectively secured an endless stream of revenue for the next century.

The replies turned into a massive debate.

>: CoreAnalyst_V From a purely economic perspective, the OP is completely right. The player retention metrics for this intellectual property are practically unprecedented. Between software sales, physical Pokégg units, and upcoming hardware revisions, RTS has built an ecosystem where churn is nearly nonexistent.

>: HonestGamer They can print credits for the next millennium for all I care, as long as they keep their current business model. Zero predatory microtransactions. Zero paid energy meters. Full games delivered with care. The day RTS acts like a standard corporate conglomerate is the day the magic dies, so let them take all my money.

>: ArthurPendragonSimp If this franchise is going to last for hundreds of years, Arthur Pendragon needs to ensure his creative vision survives intact. He needs an heir who shares his exact mind and soul. Arthur, if you are reading this, I'm offering myself as tribute. I'll gladly bear the next generation of Round Table Studio CEO. My schedule is wide open.

>: ShieldKnight @ArthurPendragonSimp Go to horny jail! Someone please use a water-type move on this person immediately.

>: VoidWalker @ArthurPendragonSimp Get in line. The marriage proposal queue currently wraps around the orbital station. Besides, Arthur would probably dodge your advances with an invulnerability frame from Hades.

…

The runaway hype train gained even more momentum the following evening.

The pilot episode of the official animated series debuted simultaneously across every major entertainment network in the Accord. For weeks, fans had argued over who would star in the story, wondering if the show would follow Red from the FireRed game or introduce a blank avatar.

The screen lit up, finally answering the question.

His name was Ash Ketchum.

The premiere episode, titled "I Choose You!", captured the whimsical, living world of Pokémon with breathtaking warmth. Ash wasn't an untouchable prodigy or a cold, calculated tactician. He was an earnest, stubborn, deeply flawed ten-year-old boy from Pallet Town.

He was rash, loud, and thoroughly inexperienced. He stayed up late watching televised tournament matches, slept straight through his morning alarm, and arrived at Professor Oak's laboratory in his pajamas only to find that every standard starter companion had already been claimed by other children.

His remaining option was a defiant, round yellow mouse with a lightning-bolt tail.

Viewers were completely captivated by the rocky dynamic between boy and partner. Pikachu refused to enter its Pokéball, disliked walking on a leash, and openly shocked Ash whenever the boy tried to exert authority.

The emotional climax of the episode sealed the broadcast into galactic memory.

Trapped in a sudden downpour near the riverbank, surrounded by a savage flock of territorial Spearow, Ash made a choice that left audiences breathless. Facing dozens of dive-bombing birds, the bruised, exhausted rookie trainer didn't run. 

He stepped directly in front of the injured Pikachu, throwing his arms wide open to shield the little creature with his own body. He screamed into the storm, daring the wild flock to strike him down while begging his stubborn partner to run to safety inside the discarded ball.

Pikachu watched the boy's trembling back. In a burst of pure courage, the electric mouse surged forward, racing up Ash's shoulder and leaping into the sky. Channeling a bolt of natural lightning from the dark clouds, Pikachu unleashed an earth-shattering thunderbolt that blasted the entire flock across the valley.

When the dust settled and the rain cleared, Ash and Pikachu lay side by side in the damp grass, battered, exhausted, and bound by an unbreakable bond of trust.

As the morning sun broke through the storm clouds, painting a brilliant rainbow across the horizon, a magnificent golden bird soared through the sky, its feathers shimmering with divine light. Ash held up his Pokédex, only for the machine to chime with static, displaying an unidentifiable profile for the mysterious beast.

Across millions of living rooms, gaming dens, and transit stations throughout the Accord, viewers stared at their holoscreens in absolute silence. The journey of a true Pokémon Master had officially begun, and every week the galaxy was ready to walk every single step beside him.

…

The atmosphere inside the Round Table Studio headquarters carried an unfamiliar weight these days. It was a good kind of unfamiliar, fueled by the sheer number of fresh faces walking the halls. The energy was especially concentrated around the development hub for the studio's newest flagship project, Pokémon Arena.

For this particular title, the lead director and producer roles belonged entirely to Liseli.

The original pitch and the core framework for the battle simulator had come straight from her desk. Handing her the reins was a deliberate move by both Arthur and Kasavin. It was their way of nudging the other department heads, proving that anyone in the studio could step up and lead a project they were truly passionate about.

For Liseli, the transition was a trial by fire. She usually spent her days lost in digital clay and environmental lighting. Now, she had to explain technical constraints, manage pipelines, and lead cross-departmental meetings. 

Kasavin had helped her navigate the treacherous waters of production scheduling early on. Yet ever since the trailer broke the galactic net, Liseli had stepped up with a fierce determination, requiring less and less of his daily guidance.

Kasavin could hardly hide the proud smile on his face whenever he watched her run a meeting. He had originally joined the studio as a narrative writer, only to discover that Arthur delivered stories and scripts so thoroughly fleshed out that Kasavin was essentially just proofreading. 

That realization had naturally pushed him into the role of a producer. Seeing Liseli take command of Arena gave him immense joy. It freed up his schedule entirely, allowing him to focus on the studio's massive physical expansions, including the trading card game, the merchandise lines, and the complex manufacturing logistics for the Caliburn VR seats.

Across the room, Liseli sat deep in her hover chair, staring intently at the latest reports from the design team.

A glowing holographic document hovered over her desk, detailing the combat user interface. The battle UI required two entirely different frameworks. One needed to be optimized for traditional flat screens, while the other had to accommodate the full spatial immersion of the Caliburn VR environment.

Liseli tapped her stylus against her chin, dragging a few digital elements across the grid.

"Move the health bar anchor points to the peripheral edge for the VR set," Liseli instructed out loud. "If we leave them in the center, they will block the physical attack animations when a player looks down. For the standard screen version, keep it classic top-left. And please increase the contrast on the elemental type icons."

She finalized the adjustments and swiped the glowing file to the side. "Send those notes back to the design team. Thanks, Gawain."

The smooth, synthetic voice of Gawain chimed from her desktop console. "Always a pleasure, Liseli."

She leaned back hard into her hover chair, rolling her shoulders and massaging the stiff muscles in her neck. "Ugh. Is this a new record for me sitting in one place?"

"It is not," Gawain replied with calculated precision. "You require another one hour and thirty-two minutes of continuous inactivity to break your previous record."

Liseli's eyes widened in horror. She shot up from her chair and shouted in absolute relief. "No! Absolutely not. Gawain, ready the anti-grav link right now. I need to do my daily sculpt before I forget how to use my hands."

"Activating your spatial charges now," Gawain confirmed.

Liseli stood up and stretched her arms toward the ceiling. Just as she rolled her wrists, Ravli, a new junior artist walked up to her workstation. The man gripped a digital datapad tight against his chest, looking incredibly stiff.

"Uhh, ma'am?" Ravli stammered. "I've sent the battle area revision to the server. Just now."

Liseli perked up instantly, all traces of her administrative fatigue vanishing. "Oh, it's done already? Let's go check it out in the holo canvas. I was just about to head over there myself."

She stepped around her desk and gestured for him to follow. As they walked together toward the massive open-air projection bays, Liseli glanced over at his rigid posture.

"There's no need to be so formal," Liseli said with a bright, welcoming smile. "Everyone just calls me Liseli around here."

Ravli swallowed hard. "I... uh, yes, ma... I mean, Liseli."

"Great," she replied, keeping her focus on the path ahead.

Ravli trailed half a step behind her. His eyes darted nervously across the open atrium. He scanned the faces of the senior developers chatting near the indoor trees. Then, his gaze snagged on a figure walking out of the programming hub.

It was Arthur.

It was the real Arthur Pendragon. He walked past the meeting rooms completely devoid of the tall, imposing Zagreus profile the public recognized.

Ravli felt his stomach drop. He began sweating bullets right there on the walkway. His heart hammered wildly against his ribs. Was securing the true, physical identity of Arthur Pendragon enough to satisfy his boss? He questioned himself frantically, wondering if it's enough for Heliotronic Arts for this single piece of intelligence alone.

He quickly lowered his eyes and kept walking behind Liseli.

Unbeknownst to the developers of Round Table Studio, a quiet threat had successfully slipped through their rigorous screening process. A corporate mole had breached the gates, boring a dangerous hole straight into the heart of the Art Department.

…

The heavy boarding ramp of the Round Table Studio transport frigate lowered with a mechanical hiss, settling onto the permacrete landing pad of the temporary planet. Ravli stepped out into the cool evening air. He turned back toward the boarding bay, offering a tired, genuine wave goodbye to the rest of the new recruits before beginning the quiet walk back to his apartment.

As his boots clicked against the paved walkway, Ravli found his mind wandering through the long, winding path that had brought him to this exact moment. He often wondered where things had originally gone wrong in his life. 

In his youth, he had been brimming with confidence. He possessed a raw, undeniable talent for visual art. Yet the reality of the galaxy was harsh. The Accord only offered two paths for creatives: corporate servitude or the starving artist slot.

Unfortunately, Ravli lacked that elusive one percent of magical charm that turned a good artist into a galactic legend. In the grand scheme of the industry, he was just like countless others. His work was competent, functional, and incredibly easy to glance over without a second thought.

To put food on the table, he took a position at Heliotronic Arts. He spent years grinding through their rigid pipeline, slowly climbing the corporate ranks just enough to secure a comfortable life for his wife and child. 

The game industry under HA had completely tampered with his creative spirit. They molded him into a purely realistic sculptor. His daily tasks involved rendering hyper-realistic textures and lifeless, drab environments. The executives demanded assets that were meant to be glanced at as normal, everyday objects. Nothing was designed to be admired. Nothing held a soul.

Then Round Table Studio released Hades.

Ravli remembered the exact moment he first saw the gameplay footage. He stared at the hand-painted illustrations of the Olympian gods. He analyzed the fluid, vibrant visual effects attached to every single one of Zagreus's attacks. He studied the deep, atmospheric colors of the Underworld environments. 

He had never thought a video game could look so breathtakingly beautiful. The experience cracked open a sealed vault inside his chest, waking his artistic self from a deep, suffocating slumber.

More games rolled out of RTS, each one pouring fresh water on his parched creative spirit. When the studio announced their second hiring wave, Ravli felt a powerful pull. He ultimately let the opportunity pass him by. 

He convinced himself it was pointless to abandon his seniority at HA and start over from the bottom. More importantly, he refused to let his own selfish greed for artistic fulfillment risk his family's financial stability. He held on, enduring another couple of years under the crushing umbrella of Heliotronic Arts.

Then the articles started circulating. VGN published detailed reports about the working conditions at RTS, painting a picture that sounded like a literal fairy tale. The sterile cubicles at HA began to buzz with whispered gossip. Developers huddled in the breakrooms, constantly asking why Heliotronic Arts could never provide the same respect or environment.

Ravli chose to keep his head down and let the rumors pass him by. He watched several of his closest coworkers get laid off on the spot just for discussing the RTS articles on company time. 

The executives at HA were ruthless. Talking about Round Table Studio became an open secret in the office. It was a guaranteed way to quit your job without having to submit formal paperwork.

Then the third wave of hiring was announced.

The moment Ravli read the banner, his heart started thumping against his ribs like a trapped bird. He spent hours trying to talk himself out of applying. He listed every logical reason to stay safe. Yet his soul had developed a mind of its own.

He laid awake that entire night, staring at the ceiling, completely unable to sleep.

His wife eventually noticed his restless state. She sat up in the dim light, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, and asked him what was wrong. The dam finally broke. Ravli spilled everything. He poured out his frustrations with HA, his buried dreams, and his desperate, terrifying desire to apply for the new RTS position.

Instead of worrying about their finances, his wife smiled. It was a bright, radiant smile. Ravli suddenly realized he had forgotten how long it had been since he saw her look so profoundly happy.

"Then we follow our heart," she whispered softly in the dark. "Like we always have."

Her words struck him like lightning. Ravli's eyes widened as a vivid memory rushed back to him. He remembered the very beginning of their relationship, back when they were young and fearless. They had run away from both of their strict parents, risking everything they had just to follow their hearts and build a life together.

That exact same night, Ravli quietly slipped out of bed, sat down at his terminal, and filled out the Round Table Studio application. When he finally pressed the submit button and returned to his sheets, he fell asleep instantly. All the crushing weight in the universe had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

After enduring a grueling gauntlet of technical tests and multiple rounds of interviews, the final notification had finally arrived. Ravli had been accepted. 

The moment the official Round Table Studio emblem flashed green on his datapad, he dropped the device and pulled his wife into a wild, breathless dance around their cramped living room. It was the absolute happiest he had ever been in his entire life. He finally had a way out. He finally had a future.

However, the universe possessed a deeply twisted sense of humor.

Before Ravli could even draft his formal resignation letter, the upper management at Heliotronic Arts somehow caught wind of his application. Security personnel escorted him directly to the top floor of the corporate spire. He was forced to stand in the center of the lavish, dimly lit executive office.

Zoye Raves sat behind a massive obsidian desk, swirling a glass of amber malt alcohol. The CEO looked him dead in the eyes with a chilling, predatory calm.

"Congratulations," Zoye said softly.

Ravli swallowed hard, his hands trembling at his sides. "I... uh, yes. Thank you, sir."

"I assume you are coming in today to process your resignation," Zoye continued, taking a slow sip from his glass.

A cold, heavy dread pooled in Ravli's stomach. He nodded slowly. "Yes, sir."

Zoye smiled. It was a terrifying expression completely devoid of any warmth. "Great. You will be my eyes and ears."

Ravli widened his eyes, his heart stopping in his chest. "Sir?"

"Oh, calm down," Zoye chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. "Do take it as an order. You have no choice in the matter."

Ravli took a desperate step back. "You can't do this."

Zoye tossed a small silver holo puck onto the polished desk. It activated with a sharp hum. A blue projection hovered in the air, displaying Ravli's private family records. It showed high-definition surveillance captures of his wife and his children walking through their local market.

Before Ravli could even shout in protest, Zoye tapped the desk console. The projection shifted to display Ravli's personal Accord Identification file.

"I'm quite far from finished," Zoye stated. "I will frame this in a way you can easily understand. A corporate spy record."

Ravli felt all the blood drain from his face. The threat was absolute. Zoye was telling him that he would make the HA legal department to officially stamp Ravli's Accord ID with a corporate espionage charge. 

Under Accord law, a major corporation wielded the sheer financial gravity to make a false accusation stick on a lowly environment artist. That stamp meant instant death to his career. 

Round Table Studio would fire him on the spot the second that updated record hit their security database. Worse still, no other legitimate company in the galaxy would ever hire him again. He would be completely ruined. His family would be left starving in the outer rims or he had to work under a black company.

Zoye calmly took another drink of his malt alcohol. "It's a highly beneficial deal for you. You get to continue working in your shiny new studio, and I get exactly what I want."

Ravli clenched his fists, tears of sheer panic welling in his eyes. "I will come clean to them! I will tell RTS exactly what you are doing. I'm sure they will understand and help me."

Zoye burst into a sudden, booming fit of manic laughter. The sound echoed off the high glass walls, sharp and cruel.

"Ahahaha! You're going to come clean?" Zoye gasped for air, wiping a tear of amusement from his eye. "I can't believe I allowed a naive fool like you to work in my building in the first place. Think for a single second, Ravli. Do you honestly believe they will help you? Do you think they will risk a massive legal war with Heliotronic Arts over a brand new junior artist? They will toss you aside the moment you become a liability. They are a business, not a charity."

The terrifying memory faded as the lock on his apartment door clicked open with a familiar chime.

Ravli stepped inside the warm, brightly lit hallway. He heard the sound of footsteps rushing toward him. His wife and kids appeared from the kitchen, their faces glowing with pure joy and excitement for his new future.

Ravli forced the crushing, suffocating terror deep down into his chest. He stretched his trembling lips into a wide, hollow smile.

"I'm home," Ravli said softly, opening his arms as his family rushed forward to welcome him.

⋘ 𝒍𝒐𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒅𝒂𝒕𝒂.. .⋙

🎮:- Stardwey Valley: Completed.- Hades: Completed.- Pokémon: Completed.- Assassin Creed: Completed.- Monster Hunter: Completed.- Hollow Knight: ◌ Loading…

VR: - Sky: Children of the Light: Completed.- Final Fantasy 14: ◌ Loading…

🎬:- Spirited Away: Completed.- Pokémon Series: Ongoing…

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