AGLST

Development of AGLST has been permanently suspended. 

Anime Girl Laser Space Tank (AGLST) was set to be my flagship project. While its name was clickbaity by design, the game itself was a fully as a serious endeavor. I was hoping to use it to break into the industry,  taking advantage of my agility as a solo developer to predict a gaming 'trend' and get an interesting, intentional implementation of it to market before it went viral. The 'trend'—or "signature gimmick"—I chose was "graphics created by generative artificial intelligence"—what's now colloquially known as "AI art."

You already know how this tale ends: development of AGLST is permanently suspended. For the sake of closure, the rest of its story is chronicled below.

—

Epitaph

Back in Spring of 2022, I was a soon-to-be graduating senior at my university. I'd heard all the horror stories about widespread employee exploitation at AAA game studios, so I wanted to break into the games industry as a solo dev. My best shot would be at my university's annual games expo; it happened just before my graduation, and it was a great way to get one's work seen. However, I wasn't getting anywhere with my then-flagship-project, Exarch; I needed a new senior project that could draw on all the knowledge I'd accrued during my five years at university and show off my ability to navigate the industry as an indie dev.

I found inspiration on the internet. Accounts like "Weird DALL-E Images" were blowing up for the first time on a platform that was still named 'Twitter.' Images of Pope Francis in a white puffer coat still felt like true novelties, offering a welcome reprieve from the bleak expanse of the COVID-19 pandemic. I'd done some AI-related coursework and recognized the genetic algorithms on offer on an early AI-image-creation platform called Artbreeder. I saw in this new variety of AI exactly what I wanted to see: a great equalizer for indie devs who can't make a game from scratch themselves.

Honestly, I probably could've made a complete game myself. I could write, code, do audio, and even make pixel art for sprites. But I wanted a game that could bring my characters to life with art, and my ineptitude at traditional visual art was holding me back. I knew my budget of ~$200 was insufficient to fairly compensate an artist for their work, but it was more than enough for a subscription to Artbreeder. Thus, my plan for AGLST took shape: I'd use generative AI for the portrait art and do everything else myself, non-portrait art included. I even intended to explore AI and the concept of 'creation' as central themes in the game's story.

I never even began to write that story, but I did get as far as making a gameplay demo by the day of the expo. It wasn't very good, but it sufficed as a proof-of-concept. It featured four or five generative AI character portraits, as well as sprites for those characters' space tanks and their ammunition that I'd created by hand in Pixlr. The reception was unremarkable; no one seemed to have strong feelings about it one way or the other. I wasn't concerned—narrative is my pinch-hitter anyways, and I'd have time to delve into it after graduation.

Instead, I ended up needing intensive outpatient care in the months after I graduated (don't worry—I'm fine now), but I was able to watch as the discursive environment around AI started to evolve. I witnessed conversations become polarizing, sometimes even toxic. I figured it would soon run its course—nothing can go viral forever. However, reasonable causes for concern kept coming to light one after another, and the tough conversations continued. By the time I was ready to do something with my life, nothing felt the same anymore—those halcyon days before AI went mainstream now felt a world away, and the illusion of innocent fun had shattered completely.

The worst was yet to come. As the internet learned more and more about generative AI, the pool of people who were unabashedly excited about this technology began to evaporate, leaving behind only the most unscrupulous. Years of lockdowns had caused the internet's erstwhile monoculture to atrophy, creating space for online phenomena to become nuanced subcultural signifiers in a way that had previously been relegated to the likes of 4chan. This allowed a legible association between generative AI and alt right Silicon Valley tech bros to coalesce, fed by a splintering social media ecosystem in which users could easily monetize AI images by amusing and/or stoking the egos of certain billionaire platform owners. In light of this incentive, AI content farms broke onto the scene, flooding the entire internet with what we now recognize as "AI slop."

Could anyone have seen this coming? Probably. In fact, I'm sure plenty of people did—I just wasn't one of them. I ended up drawing an arbitrary line between myself and the 'mainstream' users of AI: I wanted to tell a story of literary merit that engaged with AI content thoughtfully and responsibly, so AGLST would be fine...maybe it could even shift the conversation in a direction that encouraged lucid acknowledgement of the ethical quagmire surrounding AI content. If I looked at it that way, my work could even be construed as timely and essential...right?

It was only about a year ago (early November of 2024) that I was slapped out of my idealistic little reverie. I returned to my university (virtually) to participate in an alumni panel. The facilitator of the panel, a current student, mentioned that she was about to ask the question that everyone [student attendees] had been wondering about: "will AI take our jobs?" I was blindsided. This panel was for the professional writing program, not the games program; why was AI coming up here? I'm ashamed to say that I visibly giggled; I thought the facilitator was making a joke. But when I looked at the students again, I caught the real fear in their eyes and behind their words.

I used my background with AI to answer the question, explaining to them how generative AI worked and why it couldn't ever compete with a human being capable of true thought and sustained intentionality. I hope my explanation provided some reassurance, or at least demystified the concept a little. But their fear stuck with me.

When the panel was over, I logged into the AI services that once held all my hopes of professional independence and started deleting my accounts.

AGLST

March 2022–November 2024

You taught me that generative AI comes with a price that I'm not willing to pay.

Thank you.

—

Timestamp

Originally written in November of 2024; updated and reworked in November of 2025.

For the next little while, this epitaph will remain here, in case anyone who might need to read it can learn from my experience. However, when ESCAPE: Ultimate releases someday down the line, it'll be time to lay AGLST and its page to their final rest.

—

A Year Later...

I served on the November virtual alumni panel at my university again this year. This time, when AI came up, I was prepared. Just like last year, I made sure to demystify it and articulate some of its limitations, but I was struck by just how much the discourse has already evolved. Last year, the possibility of AI in a writer's workspace was discussed in terms of 'replacement.' These days, it's all about 'implementation.' It's as if the widespread uptake of AI has now become a foregone conclusion. On the bright side, many of my fellow panelists shared ways in which they used AI to make their work easier and more efficient. The spectre of 'replacement' still lingers, but there's a new kind of hope in the air, one rooted in a sort of professional co-existence with these algorithms.

Some of these ideas felt remarkably similar to my original vision behind AGLST: use AI to compensate for your weaknesses (i.e., things you can't do well and/or quickly). My views, however, have only hardened from a year ago: I do not and will not use generative AI products for any of my work. For me, it comes down to a matter of petty pride; the notion that a machine could improve upon my copy feels downright insulting. But again, there's a bright side: parsing out all my feelings this stuff has given me more empathy for the artists whose vocal opposition to AI art I struggled to understand back in AGLST's early days.

That said, I don't ascribe any moral judgment to people's* use of or abstinence from AI. While my refusal to use generative AI remains adamant, the real world is messy. Someday soon, plenty of folks who aren't fond of generative AI will have to choose between dying on that hill and having a job in their industry—there could even come a day when I must face a decision like that. I suppose my point with all this is:

"Don't judge people* too harshly for what AI they use or don't use. These are complicated issues, and you don't know what considerations others may be facing."

* In this context, 'people' refers to "human individuals who have a net worth of < $10,000,000."

So, with the supposed inevitability of AI looming large, do I regret my decision to discontinue AGLST? Nope. Until and unless survival dictates otherwise, I'll hold the line here. In writing, coding, and audio, I can fight my own battles. And when I make an indie release with visual art—even character portraits—my meager pixel art skills will be more than enough. If the end result is cringey, guess what? The world will keep on turning~

- C

P.S. Yes, I've heard about the unprecedented prevalence of em dashes ( — ) in AI writing, and no, I have no intention of letting a computer take my favorite punctuation away from me. People can think what they like, but they'll have to pry "Alt + 0151" out of my cold, dead hands~

—

AGLST Legacy Content 

These instructions detail the key bindings and core gameplay loop applicable to the erstwhile demo from spring of 2022. For the sake of posterity, they'll remain here until the end. 

Key bindings: Move Left/Right: A/D or Left Arrow/Right Arrow Shoot: Space Bar Basic Ability: E Ultimate Ability: Q Switch Characters: F1, F2, F3, F4, & F5. These correspond to the number of the character to whom they switch.

Core gameplay loop: 

1). Test your luck by rolling against chance to unlock new characters, each of whom commands her own laser-shooting "space tank." 

2). Visit numerous sectors across the galaxy, each with its own lore, conflicts, and narrative. 

3). Build a team of characters suited to the sector's unique challenges and fight the bad guys. 

4). Make decisions in the heat of battle that will affect the story and the fate of those around you! 

5). Depending on your choices, new characters might become available to roll for (to add to your team).