Part 1: Reflection on Seven Narrative and Experiential Games

When I first played Spent, I was immediately drawn in by the decision-making aspect. At the beginning, it felt like a simple simulation where I had to choose between different jobs based on salary and working hours. However, after the first week in the game, I became fully immersed. It no longer felt like a game but like a real struggle. Responsibilities kept piling up, and I found myself thinking carefully about every dollar. What disturbed me most was how naturally I started sacrificing things I normally would not sacrifice. For example, I chose not to buy my child new shoes for school because they were too expensive. I postponed important responsibilities such as car insurance and fixing a broken window, covering it with plastic instead. I prioritized temporary solutions over long-term stability because I simply did not have the margin to think beyond survival. The game also frequently introduced statistics about poverty in the United States, which widened my perspective and grounded the experience in reality. It made me feel genuine empathy toward people living in poverty and helped me understand how difficult it is to escape the cycle once someone is trapped in it. If I were to improve the game, I would suggest adding stronger visual immersion, as it is mostly text-based and could benefit from deeper engagement elements.

Playing the BBC Syrian Refugees game created a different type of tension. I chose to flee to Egypt, mainly because of my own bias and familiarity with the country. Despite feeling confident in that decision, I ended up making several wrong choices and ultimately failed to escape safely. This experience showed me how fragile refugee journeys are and how one small wrong turn can completely change everything. Unlike Spent, where pressure builds gradually over time, this game creates immediate tension through risk and unpredictability. It forced me to think strategically while also recognizing the emotional weight of each decision. It changed the way I view refugees. Before playing, I mostly understood the issue through news headlines, but the game made me realize how many invisible calculations and dangers refugees constantly face. I think the game could be improved by offering slightly more contextual information before each decision, which would deepen the educational value without reducing the difficulty.

Depression Quest was the game I enjoyed the least, although I still consider it important. The overall atmosphere felt heavy and uncomfortable. What frustrated me most was that the more I tried to improve the situation, the worse it sometimes became. It felt like a lose-lose environment. There was also a large amount of text, which required strong concentration and made the experience mentally draining. However, that may have been intentional, as it reflects the exhaustion associated with depression. This game challenged one of my previous assumptions. I used to think that depressed individuals lacked strength or clarity. After playing, I understood that depression can restrict a person’s agency, making even simple decisions feel overwhelming or impossible. It showed me that sometimes people want to choose better but feel mentally unable to. Although I did not enjoy it much, it expanded my perspective significantly. To improve it, I would suggest incorporating more interactive or visual elements to balance the heavy reading.

The game that impacted me the most was Skills Practice: A Home Visit. It was extremely realistic and immersive because of the first-person video format. At first, I felt disturbed and slightly uncomfortable, but I quickly became fully engaged in the role of a mental health professional visiting Irina, a woman facing domestic abuse. The stakes felt extremely high. A small shift in tone or wording could completely alter the outcome. I usually see myself as someone capable of handling emotionally intense situations, but there were moments when I genuinely did not know what to say. I began imagining myself in Irina’s position to understand how she might interpret my words. This forced me to think carefully, not only about logic but about emotional impact. The realism of the video format made the responsibility feel real. It taught me that handling sensitive situations requires precision, patience, and deep empathy. Confidence alone is not enough. The game could potentially include more alternative endings to increase replay value, but overall it was the most engaging and thought-provoking experience for me.

The Party choose your own adventure game was simpler but relatable. At my age and within my environment, I frequently encounter situations involving peer pressure similar to those presented in the game. While it was not particularly sophisticated in design, it connected directly to real-life experiences. The scenarios felt realistic, and the statistics provided throughout the game reinforced the consequences of certain decisions. I found myself comparing the situations in the game to real events I have witnessed. It reminded me that peer pressure often builds gradually, and small decisions can accumulate into larger outcomes. The game could benefit from a more interactive format rather than a slide-based structure, which would make it more immersive.

Project Honduras was also well designed and engaging. It required strategic thinking and long-term planning to defend a community against the consequences of climate change. Unlike Spent, which focuses on individual survival, this game emphasized leadership and collective responsibility. It forced me to think beyond immediate problems and consider broader environmental consequences. I appreciated how it made climate change feel practical rather than abstract. The decisions felt meaningful, and I enjoyed balancing development with sustainability. The game could be strengthened by providing more detailed feedback explaining the long-term impact of each choice, which would enhance the learning experience.

Finally, the board game Sucrose was very different from the digital experiences. Initially, I did not expect to enjoy it as much as I did. However, listening to others in my group and slightly entering their emotional world became surprisingly powerful. What I appreciated most was how the game helped me understand myself better. Not all answers came instantly. I had to reflect on past experiences that made me feel certain emotions, which forced deeper self-awareness. It made me think about which experiences truly hold value in my life and which traits I aspire to develop. Listening to others’ answers also made me aware of how differently people prioritize values and emotions. It was satisfying and introspective in a way that digital games were not.

Comparing all seven games, I noticed that each one created a different type of engagement. Spent and Syrian Refugees created stress through survival and uncertainty. Depression Quest created internal psychological tension. Skills Practice created moral responsibility and emotional pressure. The party focused on social realism and peer influence. Project Honduras emphasized strategic thinking and leadership. Sucrose centered around introspection and identity. The most immersive experience was Skills Practice because of its realism. The most frustrating was Depression Quest, yet that frustration was part of its lesson. The most personally reflective was Sucrose, while Spent was the most eye-opening in terms of social awareness. Across all of them, player agency was the common thread. However, each game used agency differently to create empathy, tension, reflection, or responsibility.

Part 2: Background Research and Development of My Own Digital Narrative Game

To determine the topic of my own digital narrative game, I first reflected deeply using the Ikigai framework. I identified what I genuinely love, what I am naturally good at, what frustrates me in the world, and what I could realistically build a career around.

I love mathematics and its complexity, especially how abstract ideas connect logically and make sense at a deep level. I enjoy puzzles that require unfamiliar solutions and strategic thinking. I am drawn to philosophical discussions, psychological and social analysis, and conversations that challenge perspectives. I value self-improvement, discipline, faith, sport, and intellectual growth. I also love the concept of building something of my own, particularly starting a business and thinking strategically about long-term outcomes.

In terms of strengths, I am naturally strong in pattern recognition, analytical reasoning, interpreting complex ideas, and explaining difficult concepts clearly. I adapt quickly, handle pressure well, and think strategically. People often compliment me on my logical intelligence, fairness, humility, emotional intelligence, ambition, and discipline. My official VIA Character Strengths Profile confirmed many of these qualities. My top strengths include Fairness, Hope, Forgiveness, Curiosity, and Perspective. I also scored highly in Social Intelligence, Leadership, Creativity, Judgment, and Perseverance. These strengths suggest that I value justice, long-term optimism, thoughtful reasoning, and understanding human behavior, while also being driven to complete difficult tasks.

When reflecting on what frustrates me in society, several themes emerged. I am deeply disturbed by unjust wars driven by power and money. I dislike social classism and the way people are treated differently based on socioeconomic status. I am also frustrated by how education has been structured in a way that makes many students hate learning, even though learning is one of the most powerful tools for growth. I strongly dislike when individuals abandon their authentic interests and values in order to fit into social standards. I am especially bothered when kind or humble people are taken advantage of because of their nature.

Using these reflections, I asked an AI tool to generate several ideas for a digital choose-your-own-path narrative game based on my Ikigai and VIA strengths. The AI suggested the following concepts:

One idea was a narrative game about a high-performing student balancing ambition, social life, and mental health, where each decision affects identity, relationships, and long-term fulfillment. Another idea focused on a young athlete forced to sacrifice his sport to pursue academic excellence, exploring themes of identity loss and long-term strategic thinking. A third idea centered around building a startup in a morally complex world, where the player must choose between profit, fairness, loyalty, and social impact. A fourth concept involved a leadership simulation in which the player manages a divided team, facing ethical dilemmas and decisions that test fairness, humility, and courage.

When reflecting on these suggestions, I found that several resonated strongly with me. In particular, the themes of internal conflict between ambition and emotional balance, escaping mediocrity in a comfort-driven society, and the psychology of leadership felt deeply personal. I experienced this conflict firsthand when I stopped playing competitive football to focus on my IB exams. That period involved a loss of identity and a sense of emptiness, but also strategic sacrifice and long-term growth. I felt tension between who I was and who I was trying to become. It was not purely negative; it was growth through discomfort. That internal conflict shaped me significantly.

Based on this reflection, I am currently most interested in developing one of two possible narrative game concepts.

The first concept would explore the internal conflict between ambition and emotional balance. The player would take on the role of a high-performing individual navigating academics, sport, family expectations, faith, and personal identity. Each decision would affect multiple invisible variables such as discipline, relationships, faith alignment, burnout level, and sense of purpose. The game would intentionally create pressure and moral tension. Players would constantly choose between immediate comfort and long-term growth, between social belonging and personal authenticity. The goal would not simply be “success,” but integrated growth without losing identity. This game would aim to leave players feeling pressure, responsibility, internal conflict, motivation, and ultimately hope.

The second concept would focus more specifically on the psychology of leadership in a comfort-driven society. The player would be placed in a position of responsibility, perhaps leading a startup team or managing a community initiative. The narrative would challenge the player’s fairness, courage, humility, and strategic thinking. Decisions would test whether the player prioritizes profit, popularity, or principle. The game would examine how leaders handle mediocrity, peer pressure, ethical dilemmas, and the loneliness of high standards. It would force players to confront whether they are willing to stand by their values even when it costs them socially.

Both concepts connect deeply to my strengths of Fairness, Hope, Perspective, Leadership, and Curiosity. Both reflect my frustration with mediocrity, social conformity, and misplaced priorities. Most importantly, both allow the player to experience pressure and moral responsibility while still ending with hope.

If I had to summarize what I want my narrative game to achieve, it would be this: I want players to feel the weight of their choices. I want them to confront the tension between comfort and growth, between identity and ambition, and between external success and internal alignment. I want the experience to create reflection, not just entertainment.

sacrifice, conflict, and ultimately growth. I want the game to capture that psychological complexity. I want players to feel internal conflict, responsibility, and pressure, but also hope. I hope that growth is possible without losing oneself.

If designed effectively, this game would not simply entertain. It would force reflection. It would challenge players to question whether they are chasing success for themselves or for social validation. It would explore how discipline, faith, ambition, and emotional balance interact. Most importantly, it would encourage players to define success in a way that aligns with their deeper values rather than external standards.

This is the type of narrative experience I would want to create.