What Video Games Taught Me About Worldbuilding
Imagine waking up with zero memories. Total amnesia. That’s Wuchang’s whole deal in Wuchang: Fallen Feathers, the game I’ve been hacking my way through lately. No context, no tutorial-lore-dump, just… you wake up and good luck.
And honestly? That’s how every story starts for us too. We crack open a book, hit play on a drama, scroll into a webtoon… we’re just as clueless. No memories, no map. Unless you spoil yourself on blurbs, reviews, or Wikipedia, you dive in blind and hope the ride makes sense eventually.
While stumbling around in Wuchang, I realized games pull me in through the way they build their worlds. Confusion, hidden lore, choices, it all makes me lean in, play detective, and really care about the story.
That’s when it hit me: for me, good worldbuilding isn’t about clarity. It’s about curiosity.
- Starting in the middle feels right. Wuchang throws me into amnesia, and I learn by wandering and messing around. I actually care more when I don’t know everything at once because discovering it feels earned.
- Curiosity pays off. I follow side NPCs, read inscriptions, check every scrap of text. Each detail makes the world feel richer, and I love piecing it together like a puzzle. It’s satisfying when paying attention actually rewards you.
- Speculation is fun. I find myself guessing at motives, outcomes, and hidden connections. The story never tells me everything, and I like it that way—it makes me think, notice patterns, and feel involved.
- Choices matter. Even small decisions in Wuchang can ripple into one of four endings. I almost tripped up a couple of times, and that tension makes the story stick. If nothing can go wrong, I don’t pay as much attention.
- I appreciate when the story trusts me. Games don’t hold my hand. They let me miss things, get confused, dig around, or figure stuff out slowly. That trust makes the world feel alive, like it exists whether or not I’m paying attention.
So yeah… just my small reflections on what makes stories stick with me.
The best stories don’t hand me a manual. They let me wake up amnesiac, stumble around, and slowly piece together the world, just like I do with stories in every form I consume.
And that’s peak worldbuilding: layered, alive, and waiting to be pieced together.
