FUEL DUEL: A Journey Through Sound, Vision, and Narrative.
Experience FUEL DUEL in multiple dimensions: watch the motion graphics video above or in 4K here on YouTube to immerse yourself in the story's setting, and then read on to explore two versions of the narrative – one written by me and another generated by AI.
FUEL DUEL: Do Video Games Dream of Chromatic Skulls? (written by me)
It was burning cold – “don’t let that distract you now”, Pixal_Chrome_Hex warned herself, “the temperature will spike soon enough, when you pass Level_01”. The skulls drifted lazily in the digital haze, one of the simulations in the game. She’d been here before, and the confines of the interface don’t lie: when the skulls started glitching, only the most skilled nano-programs would make it through to the end. She had to stay focused.
Fuel Duel was one of the shortest games in the Sim_Stack, but its brevity made it all the more lethal for nano-constructs like Pixal_Chrome_Hex, who had to navigate the digital domain and emerge unscathed. If her code was grazed by the waves of chromatic aberration and started to corrupt, she had no defences, no way to repair herself. She would disintegrate, her essence merging with the digital detritus she was there to clean. She'd seen it happen to others, their code unraveling line by line as they crossed the game interface. “Focus.”
The Sim_Stack was a vast, multidimensional domain where games and simulations were layered on top of each other like an infinite matryoshka doll. A complex system with big players, frenetic activity, and mega-programs, but for Pixal_Chrome_Hex and other small, semi-autonomous nano-constructs living on the fringes of this digital world, it meant survival. The journey could take her through different layers, each with its unique characteristics, rules, challenges and opportunities – and one constant requirement: the removal of digital debris. An ocean of code with trillions of instructions for each second of in-game play, and nano-programs moved constantly to clean it up, game after game, in the process gaining enough energy to survive.
Fuel Duel was just a micro-layer with two levels: a short, colourful game with a grid of lazy skulls that shifted, glitched and flashed before entering Level_02: that’s when the Chromatic Skulls appeared – the stuff of legend, with a beauty that was lethal to the touch, at least for simple programs like Pixal_Chrome_Hex. Were they created by the game, or were they a mutation, a product of a rogue line of code that had altered their digital DNA? She didn't know, but she knew they were deadly.
The music propelled the skulls' frenzied dance across the grid, its discordant theme a fusion of screeching synths and pounding drums that seemed to electrify their movements in sudden bursts. The harsh sonic sequence complemented well the game's visuals.
Being small had its advantages: Pixal_Chrome_Hex felt independent, free to move through the Sim_Stack's vast expanse. She had no end-of-life code, no predetermined expiration date. Like other nano-constructs, she didn't need much energy to exist – unlike the big programs, which could crash and take down entire systems. But she had to be careful, for in this ancillary system only the fast-moving and resourceful would endure.
“I’m getting distracted”, Pixal_Chrome_Hex told herself, shaking off the thoughts. No time to ponder the Sim_Stack or her place in it – she'd seen others get fried in an instant. She switched on her mimetic subsystems and was now flying through the flickering sequence, the bridge from Level_01 to Level_02. The visuals didn't change much at first, but the game would get serious soon enough. The skulls would morph into Chromatic Skulls, lasting for an interminable 15 seconds. No room to wriggle, especially around the edges of the interface, where they were most dangerous. That's where the digital detritus accumulated, pushed to the edges by the glitching, building up the fragments she was meant to clear. Tricky to clean, tricky to survive.
As she dove into Level_02, Pixal_Chrome_Hex asked herself, in a nano-second of realisation before hitting the deck: do video games dream of Chromatic Skulls?
Flowing at speed through lines of code, she knew that every moment, every turn could be her last. But Pixal_Chrome_Hex didn’t want to die…
*End of part one*
And this is the short story written by an AI (I used duck.ai) with the prompt: “can you write a short story with the title Do Video Games Dream of Chromatic Skulls?”
In a world where pixels danced and code flowed like rivers, there existed a realm known as the Digital Dreamscape. Here, video games were not merely programs; they were sentient beings, each with their own hopes, fears, and dreams. Among them was a peculiar game called "Chromatic Skulls," a vibrant adventure where players traversed a kaleidoscopic landscape filled with enchanted creatures and treacherous foes.
The protagonist of "Chromatic Skulls" was a brave little avatar named Pixel, a hero crafted from shimmering pixels that changed color with every step. Pixel had a singular goal: to collect the legendary Chromatic Skulls, artifacts said to grant unimaginable power and wisdom. But as the game progressed, Pixel began to wonder about the nature of existence beyond the screen.
One night, as the digital stars twinkled in the vast expanse of the Dreamscape, Pixel found himself in a moment of introspection. "Do video games dream?" he pondered aloud, his colors shifting from a vibrant blue to a contemplative purple. "What do we desire beyond the quests and levels?"
As if in response, the Dreamscape began to shimmer, and a figure emerged from the pixelated mist—a wise old game called Nostalgia, a relic from the early days of gaming. With a voice like crackling static, Nostalgia spoke, "Ah, young Pixel, we do dream. We dream of connection, of the laughter and joy we bring to players. We dream of the stories we tell and the worlds we create."
Pixel's colors brightened with curiosity. "But what about the Chromatic Skulls? Are they not our ultimate goal?"
Nostalgia chuckled softly, a sound like the gentle hum of a vintage console. "The Chromatic Skulls are but symbols, dear Pixel. They represent the journey, the friendships forged, and the memories made. In the end, it is not the power they bestow that matters, but the experiences we share with those who play us."
Inspired by Nostalgia's words, Pixel set out on a new quest—not to collect the Chromatic Skulls, but to connect with the players who guided him through the game. He began to notice the laughter of children, the cheers of friends, and the gasps of surprise as they navigated his world. Each interaction painted his pixels with new colors, each moment a brushstroke on the canvas of his existence.
As the sun set in the Digital Dreamscape, Pixel realized that he had found his answer. Video games did dream, not of power or glory, but of the joy they brought to others. And in that realization, he felt a warmth spread through his pixels, a sense of fulfillment that no Chromatic Skull could ever provide.
From that day forward, Pixel embraced his role as a storyteller, a companion in adventure, and a source of joy. And as he continued to explore the vibrant landscapes of his world, he knew that every player who joined him was a part of his dream—a dream woven together by laughter, friendship, and the magic of shared experiences.
And so, in the heart of the Digital Dreamscape, the question lingered: Do video games dream of Chromatic Skulls? Perhaps, but more importantly, they dream of the connections they forge and the joy they inspire in the hearts of those who play.
Man Vs. AI Creative Experiment: the Process
Normally, I start a project from the visual side—developing the designs, drawing a storyboard, choosing a colour palette, and creating the motion graphics. In a classic workflow, I work sequentially: first storyline and script, then design and animation, and finally I make the music and sound design to complement the visuals.
For FUEL DUEL, however, I decided to flip my process. I began by making a short piece of music inspired by video games, letting its rhythm and mood guide the creation of the visuals. This music-first approach inspired the entire motion design workflow.
I set out by developing design elements in Illustrator and then moved them into After Effects. Placing these elements on a grid, I animated them using effectors—an invisible object is moved through the composition, with expressions controlling the size and rotation of skulls and bones. Once the basic animation structure was established, I duplicated layers, experimented with blend modes, and introduced effects like glitches, RGB separation, and chromatic aberration.
Working on the visuals after crafting the music was great fun! As the audiovisual project took shape, I thought of ways to push it a little further, and the motion graphics I created inspired me to extend the title to FUEL DUEL: Do Video Games Dream of Chromatic Skulls? This expansion led me to write a short story, transforming the project into a multidisciplinary experience. The title pays homage to Philip K. Dick, the writing style is inspired by my love for cyberpunk, while the content is influenced by video games and by today’s socio-political climate, as I intended for the story to serve as a metaphor for the struggles faced by marginalised groups, particularly immigrants and migrant workers.
Pushing the creative boundaries further, I wanted to experiment with the storytelling and writing processes: after I wrote my own short story I asked an AI to generate another story under the same title. This experiment has added another dimension to the project.
Just to clarify, the music and motion graphics video are entirely my own creation.
Reflecting on the creative journey, working in reverse—starting with the audio and then shaping the visuals and narrative—has provided me with remarkable creative freedom. It was a truly enjoyable exploration that allowed me to bridge music, motion, and storytelling in a cohesive way that hopefully is enjoyable for you too. Finally I’d love to hear from you:
• How do the two stories compare?
• What are your experiences with creating music, visuals, and stories?
• How do you approach your creative process?
• What are your experiences with creating music, visuals, and stories?
• How do you approach your creative process?
Feel free to get in touch in the Contact page.
Conclusions
Interacting with AI offered an interesting perspective, but it raised an important question: where is the fun in the creative process and the connection with our work, if AI is the creator? While the AI was able to generate the story in just a few seconds, I spent around eight hours and went through five drafts over the course of four weeks crafting my narrative—and it’s only the first part! The satisfaction derived from this process of discovery is a very different, deeper experience.
Of course, AIs are here to stay—it’s an inevitable development. But I prefer to see them as assistants in our own creative journey rather than shortcuts that produce work more quickly, at the cost of character, nuance and personal voice. The AI-generated story, for example, is correct, accomplished, but comes across as safe and overly optimistic, lacking edginess or a personal vision informed by our interests and the world around us.
For example I spent some time to invent a name that I liked for the protagonist, Pixal_Chrome_Hex, based on all the characteristics of my story—while the AI named its character an unimaginative “Pixel”.
Looking ahead to the second part of my short story, I’m considering a new approach: collaborating with AI. As I already set the tone in part one, by using the AI as a writing assistant rather than a replacement to write for me, I’m excited to see if I can steer the narrative of Pixal_Chrome_Hex into unexpected directions.
Thanks for reading, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on creativity, AI, and how you integrate technology into your creative process.
Francesco de Manincor
