The fluorescent lights above buzz with the rhythmic hum of computers running at full capacity. The air is thick with the scent of stale coffee and the faint buzz of keyboards clacking in the distance. The game studio is a cathedral of digital warfare, and today, it feels like the world is holding its breath.
Kaelthorn Vire, the villain of their latest project—ECLIPSE: Sovereign Protocol—was supposed to be the game's pinnacle. The emperor of chaos. But before the world could even see the game's full potential, there was one problem.
The entire game was a mess.
Ethan rubs his eyes, the weight of the code pressing down on his shoulders. The deadline looms. Ethan can feel the clock tick louder as each second drags. The coffee mug in front of his is empty, but the screen? It's far from quiet.
Another crash. Another error.
[ERROR: NullReferenceException – Line 1024 in main_core.cs][ERROR CODE: 0x2F3D]
God damn it.
Ethan slammed the keyboard. The code in front of him—an intricate, tangled web of complex functions and algorithms—stares back, mocking his every attempt to fix it.
The game was going to be the game of the decade. All the top-tier VR elements, AI-driven NPCs, open-world combat like no other—and all that potential? Poised to fall apart over a single bug.
It wasn't just a glitch. No, this was a fatal error—the kind that could completely obliterate ECLIPSE if left unchecked.
Ethan lean forward, fingers flying over the keys with practiced ease, weaving through the thousands of lines of code like a conductor leading an orchestra.
// Fix for NullReferenceException at Line 1024 – Function trigger_respawn()if (!character.isAlive) {respawn(character);}// Ensure character existence before triggering respawn
The line of code snaps into place. Etha bit back a relieved sigh. This was the third crash in the last hour, and if Ethan didn't squash them all, the game was toast.
Ethan's hands hover over the keys for a moment, checking for anything that could sneak through the cracks. The company had staked everything on this one project—losing this would mean nothing. The paycheck would be the least of his worries. He'd be out of a job, out of a career, and down to scraping pennies off the streets.
He'd be finished.
[ERROR: NullReferenceException Fixed – Code Passed Integrity Test]
A rush of cold relief washes over him. Ethan stretched his arms, cracking his back. But just as he starts to relax, his screen flashes again.
[ERROR CODE: 0x4B6A] - NULL POINTER EXCEPTION
A second bug. Another storm.
But this one's different. It's buried deep in the NPC algorithm—and if he doesn't catch it in time, it could break the entire game's NPC interaction system, sending every character into chaos. If a single NPC loses their role or behavior, the entire ECLIPSE world would fracture like shattered glass.
Ethan ground his teeth, fingers hovering over the keyboard again. The language is C#, the system he built for NPC AIs—a combination of JavaScript logic with Unityus's C# engine. The balance between realism and abstraction is what made ECLIPSE stand out, but now it feels like he's juggling fire while blindfolded.
// NullPointer Exception Fix – NPC AI Role Allocationif (npc.hasRole == null) {npc.assignRandomRole();}
This time, he takes a deep breath. Slowly. He need to stay cool. The studio's pressure is like a second skin, but it's all on him now.
Ethan presses ENTER.
[ERROR CODE: 0x4B6A] Fixed – NPC AI Role Allocation Stable]
One problem down. Dozens more to go.
The clock ticks. The deadline draws nearer.
The moment you fix the second bug, your IDE finally stops throwing red errors at you. For once, there's silence. Peace. Maybe now you can go home. Or at least pass out on your keyboard.
That's when the door swings open like a hurricane had personal beef with your spine.
"Ethan!" comes the familiar voice—one that somehow always sounds both friendly and threatening.
You already know who it is.
Naomi, your boss, former college buddy, and the devil in business-casual, storms in holding a tablet like it's Exhibit A in your trial for crimes against productivity.
You don't even turn around. "No. Whatever it is, no."
"I didn't even say anything yet!" she whines, plopping herself onto the second chair next to your workstation, eyes gleaming with evil intent.
"You don't have to," you sigh, dragging your hand down your face. "That's your I'm-about-to-ruin-your-day-but-make-it-sound-like-a-team-effort voice."
She grins. That same, damn grin that always shows up when she's about to hand you an impossible task.
"You remember that mid-boss character in Zone 3? The half-masked chick with the corrupted AI loop?" she starts casually.
Your fingers tighten on the keyboard. "The one who dies in every route except the bad ending? The one who keeps triggering logic errors in the narrative tree because she overlaps with the romance flags and breaks the karma alignment code?"
"Yup. Her."
You whirl around in your chair. "That's not even my character! I wasn't assigned Zone 3! I did Zones 1, 2, and 4! This mess is on your team, not mine!"
Naomi puts on the most infuriating expression known to man: the "technically-you-owe-me" face.
"I helped you build the initial AI framework for your NPCs. Remember? The dynamic dialogue tree? The emotional response system? The one that made your merchant character cry when players insulted her cooking?"
"Don't you weaponize that crying merchant against me—she won awards!"
Naomi shrugs. "Well, guess what. Now my precious bugged-out mid-boss is using that same AI core. And because she dies on, like, three separate major paths, she keeps triggering unresolved logic threads and breaks the other routes. So…"
You stare at her. "You're telling me I have to rewrite the kill flags, reassign all her AI state variables, and manually debug every timeline she dies in?"
She beams. "Exactly!"
You bury your face into your hands. "I swear to God, Naomi, this is your fault. You built this monster. You debug it."
"But Ethan," she says sweetly, spinning her tablet and showing a screen full of red errors, "you're the only one who understands her mind. After all, she's your AI soulmate you poured your life into making. Isn't that romantic?"
"Romantic?! I hate her!"
"You coded her to love pain and betrayal! She's your type!"
"I coded her to die dramatically and stay dead!"
"And yet, she haunts every route like a narrative cockroach," Naomi says cheerfully, already standing and patting your back. "Anyway! I'm off to lunch. You've got this, right?"
You slam your forehead onto the desk. You should've never accepted her help back then. This is the price of favors in the dev world—eternal suffering via buggy waifus.