#temporalia dev

[temporalias]

devlog 1 - why am i doing this (and why you might care)

(patch note codename: “everything is held together with tape and also a little blood”) (08.25.25.)

hi. um. i don’t even know how to start this?? hey. i’m echoe. i’ve been making this game called Temporalia for a while now, and i guess i should probably talk about it somewhere other than my notes app and the 50 drafts of rambling i keep harassing my fiancé with at 3am.

so, Temporalia. it’s a time loop rpg about… holding on. like, really holding on. not in the hero's journey, “save the world!! triumph through perseverance!!” way, but in the messy “i don’t know if anything’s going to get better but i’ll try again tomorrow anyway because what else can i do” way. and i know that's all grimdark and depressing but this really is meant to be about hope.

you play as Leto, who’s stuck in this weird place i just call “the Void.” and it’s exactly that—empty but not empty, quiet but oppressive, always folding back in on itself. it's a whole different universe with different flora and fauna and people and places. genuinely this place has been in my head since fucking middle school and the fact i'm putting this place in my passion project as an adult now is a little surreal.

every loop starts the same. you wake up. you try again. you might get a little farther. maybe not. and the world notices. people notice. your friends notice — maybe not the fact that you're in a timeloop but the fact that you're changing. they start to change too — not because you’re changing everything, but because existing in repetition does something to people.

and i love writing that. i love when a game feels like it’s breathing with you, even if that breathing gets ragged sometimes. i love feeling like i'm breathing the air of the world i'm imagining. even if that air is.. terrible. that’s what i’m chasing here: something that feels alive, not because of flashy open-world nonsense, but because being there feels different than reality.

also. i added this thing called the Settings Person and they might be my favorite creature i’ve ever made? they literally live in the pause menu. they’re soft-spoken and curious, they ask you questions about yourself, and they remember your answers. like, for real—they remember. and if you ignore them for too long… well. they notice that, too.

right now i’m buried in dialogue and systems. trying to make sure Leto doesn’t sound like a robot when he’s tired, or too chipper when he’s breaking down. i really want him to be a person you can inhabit.

and honestly? i’m scared. it’s one of those projects that feels too big for me sometimes, too heavy. but then i see a scene click into place, or hear a piece of music that makes my chest hurt in the right way, and i think: yeah, this is why i’m doing it.

so. that’s where i’m at. i don't know how to end this, but. if you’ve read this far, thank you.

[temporalias]

devlog 2 - everything is on fire (but like. in a fun way???)

(the first devlog, if you don't know what this is!)

(patch note codename: i put a bandaid on the void and called it art.) (08.30.25)

ok so.

you know where you’re like, “oh, this’ll be a tiny update, just a little tweak, shouldn’t break anything,” and then 7 hours later you’re knee-deep in plugin spaghetti, your menu screen is an endless black void for some fucking reason, and you’re questioning your life choices? yeah. that’s been my entire week. awesome and cool.

i thought it would be cool to have the Settings Person (my little softspoken, curious menu mascot) notice if you haven’t visited them in a while. just a tiny “hey, i’m still here :)” vibe. you know. gentle, charming, unobtrusive. they're supposed to be your little companion, it'd be weird if they didn't notice it!!!

instead, the moment i added it, the entire pause menu imploded. like, i hit the button and BAM — blank screen. no menu, no game, just… void. or sometimes it would just not even do that, but instead just softlock you in the fucking menu. they pouted so hard they literally broke my game???

and for a split second, i honestly thought: “wow. that’s actually kind of thematic. maybe i should keep it?”

(i didn’t. but i did spend five whole hours tracing a recursive variable loop i accidentally wrote. apparently, i told the game to open the SP menu, which told the game to open the SP menu, which told the game to open the SP menu, until reality itself gave up. love that for me.)

on top off that, the Settings Person is SUPPOSED to rip your name from your computer. (yes this sounds like malware yes this is intentional NO they are not actually malware or malicious and YES there is a privacy feature to turn off their ability to do this.) problem: it was taking the computer's nickname instead which is, believe it or not: not your name.

apparently the fix for this was making yellow equal 0. i genuinely do not know how it works, all i know is that FFFF00 = 000 and now they can steal your name from powershell.

also, unrelated, but Leto? my protagonist? the guy you're suppoed to have a heartfelt attachment to the way he moves around??? he moonwalks now. i didn’t code that. he just does. he slides across the ground with this dead-eyed stare like, “yes, i am trapped in an eternal timeloop, but at least i have STYLE.” i tried to fix it three times. i failed. i’m leaving it. it’s canon now. he canonically moonwalks and im done LMAO

look, here’s the thing: this whole process is a disaster, but also? kind of magical. like, when i finally got the Settings Person working properly, and they reacted exactly how i wanted, and the menu didn’t explode, i just sat there at 2am grinning like an idiot. because for a moment, it felt like my game was alive and actually listening to me.

so yeah. everything’s on fire. but like… in a fun way.

thanks for making it this far. if you want, you can help me clear the $100 dollar fee steam requires to open a steam page by donating here.