In post 1 I narrowed the genre, and in post 2 I set the world's core axis. Next in order comes the game's heart — the systems that actually create fun. The stage (the world) was set, so it was time to decide how to play on it.
So this time I designed systems. Several of them. I ran them in my head, I dissected successful games. But honestly, this post isn't a success story about "how I found a fun system." I haven't found it yet. This post is that floundering, as it happened.
It works on paper, but my body doesn't move
The systems I built go like this. Combine units by five-element affinity, use placement to leverage type matchups, give each unit a unique ability, evolve them as they grow... taken one by one, they all make sense. Run a match in my head and I can logically confirm "if these combos overlap here, depth emerges."
The problem is it stops there. On paper it says "there's depth," but my body didn't feel "this is fun." That gap gnawed at me through this whole stage.
At first I didn't even understand what was happening. The systems were clearly well-built, so why the flatline? Thinking maybe refining them further would make it fun, I stacked on more layers. Chain bonuses on abilities, role synergies on top, then evolution. And sure, stacking layers made it "look simple but play complex" — but that didn't translate into fun. Sometimes the complexity felt like fatigue rather than fun.
Two things were missing
After a lot of floundering, I realized the missing fun came down to two things.
One was that the early game was flat. The first few minutes after starting were dull. The systems need a certain amount of board built up before they really interlock, and until then it was just a string of unremarkable fights. If a player can't get past this early stretch, they leave without ever seeing the game's real fun.
The other was more fundamental — I didn't know what "this game's core moment of fun" was. This was the real problem. Every fun game has a decisive moment you play for. My game didn't have one. It had systems piled high, but I couldn't answer "so what's this game's best moment?"
Once I realized this, the early-game problem turned out to share the same root. Because the core moment of fun wasn't defined, the early game couldn't be designed to lead toward it. With no destination, the early game didn't know what path it was, so I was just fiddling with systems.
What did successful games pick as that moment?
So I started researching. I dissected the games I love and that succeeded, to see what they chose as their "core moment of fun."
A common thread emerged. They all had a moment where what you'd built up erupts beyond expectation. Every single one.
One roguelike deckbuilder's core was the moment small elements chain and the score explodes beyond imagination. "This should've been enough — why is it blowing up this much?" That excess was the thrill. Another roguelike's climax was the moment a carefully built deck melts a boss in an instant, or the moment you should've died but the combo lands perfectly and you survive. The auto-battler I used to play was all about the moment a synergy you'd been chasing completes and overwhelms the opponent.
The pattern was clear. All of a game's systems actually exist to create this one moment. It's not fun because there are many systems; it's fun because every system converges on one decisive moment. The reason that roguelike I love is great isn't that it has many systems — it's that a few systems interlock perfectly toward one moment.
Here my mistake became visible. I'd made several systems and tried to make each of them work "with depth." But which single moment they were all aiming at was blank. That's why the logical depth was there but my heart didn't race — each system was playing on its own.
So, right now, I'm still stuck
What the research gave me wasn't an "answer" but a "question." What I need to find became clear — what is this game's core moment of fun? The one moment a player reopens the game to feel again, the one all the systems exist to build.
Once this is set, the rest follows. The early game can be designed as "the path that lets you taste that moment quickly," and every system can be realigned as "a part that builds that moment." But I haven't nailed down what that moment is yet. A few candidates came to mind, but I haven't picked the one that makes my heart race with "this is it."
Honestly it makes me a little anxious. The world is set, the systems are built, yet I'm stuck at the most important question of all — "why is this game fun?" But part of me also thinks this is the right order. If I'd glossed over this and drawn art and wrote code, I'd have ended up with a pretty but unfun game. One whose heart of fun was never found.
So for now I'm trying not to rush. No art, no code yet. The first thing to lock down isn't the graphics or the yokai designs — it's "which moment in this game makes a player open it again." Until I find this, I can't move on.
Looking back, this stage wasn't about finding an answer — it was about finding the question I need to answer. That building systems and building fun are different things, I only learned after floundering. In the next post I hope I can bring an answer to this question. For now, I'm still thinking.
Top comments (3)
"My body doesn't feel fun" might not be the signal you think it is. You've been running these matches in your own head for months. Nothing in your game can surprise you anymore, and surprise is the exact thing you're trying to build. A new player gets that discovery for free. You already spent yours.
That's worth being careful about, because it's the instrument you're using to decide whether to keep going.
My own approach is different. I don't try to find the idea first. I keep building and getting better at building, so I'm ready when a good one does show up.
You're probably right that I've worn out my own sense of surprise on this — that's a fair warning about the gauge I'm using.
Part of why I keep chasing new systems is I don't want to end up with something mechanically close to other games but with weaker visuals — that middle ground scares me, so I keep looking for a system that stands on its own.
Honestly I'm still not fully sure which way to go — keep hunting for that one system, or accept what I have and start building. But I'm leaning toward building, because otherwise I'll just develop this in my head forever and quit before anything exists.
The middle ground you describe is roughly where my own game sits. Mechanically it is a party game people have played for forty years and the visuals are nothing much. People play it because the other players are AI bots pretending to be human.
So the new thing does not have to be the system. It can be who is at the table.