Creating a game like Split Fiction is undeniably a monumental effort. It feels like every quarter of an hour, there’s a new gameplay mechanic to explore. But even with this rapid-fire introduction of features, none of them can come across as underdeveloped.
Consider the dragon-riding segment in Split Fiction. Crafting just one of those majestic creatures took around eight months. Early in my career, some team members would question, "What’s the point of investing so much time when players will only enjoy this for ten minutes?"
But here’s the truth behind it. In filmmaking, even if a scene costs a fortune, its value doesn’t come from repetition but from the impact it delivers in that moment. A similar logic applies here. Video games often fall into the trap of reusing expensive assets simply because they were costly to create. But why should that be the norm? Reusing those moments can dilute the magic of experiencing them for the first time.
Split Fiction embraces this approach wholeheartedly by incorporating vast sections of optional content. Take It Takes Two as an example; it sprinkles mini-games throughout the journey. However, in Split Fiction, these detours are larger and more immersive—they’re like standalone experiences.
Here, you’ll encounter full-fledged worlds, complete with unique mechanics, formidable bosses, and distinct visuals. It’s almost as though you’ve discovered a brand-new game within the game itself.
