"Best Indie Game of the Year: Dead Cells – The Queen and the Sea DLC!"
"On-chan! Aiko! We did it again! Game of the Year! Game of the Year!" Kazumi bounced excitedly in her seat.
Last year, the three girls had collaborated with Takayuki to create Dead Cells, which went on to win the 2006 Game of the Year.
Then, without missing a beat, they spent all of 2007 developing a series of DLCs for it.
Thanks to their focused and passionate development, the quality of the DLCs ended up surpassing the base game—a rare feat, especially in a still-nascent indie game scene. It was nothing short of a dimensional stomp.
The creative power those three girls displayed after learning under Takayuki was simply unmatched.
...
And now, even just a DLC for an indie game was enough to easily take home the best indie title of the year.
This marked the second year in a row the trio had claimed the award—an impressive feat.
It was easy to imagine what awaited them when they returned home. Offers and recruitment invitations would come pouring in like snow. Countless companies would be vying to bring them on board.
But with their current outlook, it was clear they had no intention of working under someone else. They'd aim to grow into towering oaks on their own.
Beside Takayuki, Ayano Tsukino smiled warmly. These three were among the people she admired most.
After all, it was she who had introduced them to Takayuki in the first place. Later, when they ran into problems with programming or game design and felt too embarrassed to ask Takayuki, it was Ayano who stepped in to guide them. She was, in a way, their second mentor.
Seeing her pupils thrive like this made her genuinely proud.
Once the award was announced, the three girls stood up in perfect sync and made their way to the stage.
Takayuki and Ayano watched them go, eyes full of pride.
Among the three, Aiko was the most composed. She accepted the trophy calmly and thanked everyone involved.
Naturally, their greatest thanks went to the mysterious indie game developer—a figure still unknown to the public.
If anyone deserved this award the most, it was that enigmatic creator.
To this day, no one knew who the person really was.
Even the girls claimed not to know their identity fully, stating that their collaboration had started entirely by chance.
In their version of the story, the trio had admired this mysterious creator's game-making skills and sought them out to become their mentor.
The creator agreed to work with them online, saying that a project like Dead Cells wasn't something a single person could build alone.
No one really questioned it—after all, the creator was so mysterious, it made sense they'd want to remain anonymous even during collaboration.
As they gave their thanks, the three girls avoided looking at Takayuki too directly, worried that any odd reaction might raise suspicions.
Takayuki really liked that alt account of his. It'd be a shame to blow the cover now.
If there ever came a time to reveal it, it should at least be after the indie game scene had matured.
And by the looks of things, that moment wasn't too far off.
Indie games were becoming more popular, and the overall quality was improving rapidly.
Soon, he wouldn't need an alias to guide aspiring devs anymore.
Onstage, Aiko said that they would inscribe the name of that mysterious creator on the trophy—to forever honor them.
Takayuki's mouth twitched slightly.
Forever honor me...? What the heck...
Next to him, Ayano couldn't help but smirk. She barely held back a laugh.
The awards ceremony continued with more categories being announced. Most of the winners were uncontroversial—solid titles worthy of recognition outside of Gamestar's juggernaut lineup.
But everyone's attention was on the final, biggest award of the night:
Game of the Year.
This was the industry's highest honor.
Only games not made by Gamestar Electronic Entertainment could qualify—otherwise, there'd be no competition.
Yet this year's nominations carried a new wrinkle: a shifting narrative.
It seemed that, beyond sheer game quality, there was now another unspoken factor in consideration.
Much like the Milison Film Awards in the film industry, political correctness and social messaging were starting to weigh in.
The trend was still in its early stages—the judges only dared to pick the "correct" choice among a small pool of top-tier nominees. It hadn't gone full Oscars no shame left... yet.
Would the same happen in gaming?
The industry held its breath, waiting.
Among them, one group was particularly confident—the team behind Deep Space Exploration.
Veteran developers backed by fresh funding, they had created a solid space-adventure game.
But their investors had imposed one clear condition: the game needed to prominently showcase cultural diversity.
Which, in plain terms, meant political correctness.
They were conflicted about it at first.
But when their funders promised that if the game hit at least a 3-star quality benchmark and leaned into the diversity theme, they would ensure it won Game of the Year, the devs accepted.
Their backers had political clout, making the promise credible.
Before the ceremony, they even received a call confirming that their win was practically locked in.
A 3-star game crowned as Game of the Year? Fine by them—if it got them more money, they'd play along.
Once they had the title, they could break free and build what they truly wanted.
"Game of the Year is ours—Deep Space Exploration all the way!"
They stared at the stage, already half-risen from their seats.
Just then, Kazuo Murakami took a deep breath and smiled at the audience.
"I'm sure everyone has been eagerly waiting. Honestly, choosing the Game of the Year is always the hardest part for me. With so many great games, I wish we could award more than one. But, of course… we can't."
"Just get on with it already!"
The Deep Space Exploration team was visibly impatient, now fully standing. Sitting back down would be awkward—they could only wait.
Murakami, meanwhile, seemed in no hurry. He casually bantered with the crowd, chatting as if nothing was urgent.
Finally, just when it felt like the suspense had stretched to its limit, he held up the final envelope, glanced at the card inside...
And smiled.
"Now, I will announce the 2007 Game of the Year...
It is—Sun Knight: Dark World from Surei Electronics! Let's give them a big round of applause!"