Development Log

Port City is being rebuilt. In the new version, every building is made of what it looks like it's made of: brick walls under plaster, timber and clay floors, concrete slabs, corrugated steel sheds. Each one breaks by its own material's rules.

Underneath it all is one rule: energy. A light knock cracks plaster. A harder blow punches a hole. Enough force tears out a chunk sized by the energy that went in, and a wall that loses what's holding it up comes down in sections. Steel creases, bends and tears instead of shattering, and the rubble lands where physics puts it.

The titan crab is the first thing to really test it. It weighs about thirty tonnes, so a brick walk-up can't hold it the way concrete can. When it's after you and a building is in the way, it doesn't go around. It smashes into the front, climbs the wreckage and goes over the top, crushing the floors under it as it crosses.

Behind the scenes, a system we call the settle referee watches every broken piece for its first few seconds and catches the glitches physics engines are known for: pieces jittering, hanging in the air, sinking into walls. It logs every one, so we fix the cause instead of hiding the symptom.

It's all pre-alpha and still rough in places. Next up: the crab climbing the buildings that can hold it, more tuning on how walls break, and new in-engine screenshots of the rebuilt town.

Our first game has a new name: Kaiju Gut Truck. It's named after the company you work for in it, a private outfit that turns fallen kaiju into product. You're the contractor they send into the mess.

The concept art that stood in on this site has been replaced by screenshots from the game itself: its job sites in their own weather and light, a Silt Leviathan on the beach and a harbor town with a kaiju in its middle. It's pre-alpha, and it shows, but the direction held up closer than we hoped.

The game is playable today: cutting a kaiju apart layer by layer, hauling it to the truck, bringing its organs back intact, and dealing with whatever else lives in it. A small closed playtest starts soon, by invitation. Co-op comes after that.

In most giant monster fiction, the story ends the moment the beast crashes to the ground. For us, that moment is where the game begins. When a multi-thousand-ton organism falls into a populated coastal zone, the resulting disaster transforms into an urgent, high-stakes biohazard cleanup operation.

Our central design question for Kaiju Cleanup is simple: how do we turn hazardous biological demolition into a compelling, methodical gameplay loop? We are exploring mechanics where players cannot simply hack away at a model. Instead, the goal is to treat the carcass as a complex, volatile industrial worksite.

One design challenge we are investigating is how to communicate structural tension and fluid pressure before a breach happens. If a crew cuts through load-bearing bone plates without securing the surrounding tissue, the carcass could collapse or trigger a hazardous chemical release. We want tools to feel heavy, slow, and deliberate, rewarding careful planning over speed.

We are currently building our first isolated interaction prototypes to test cutting feel and hazard feedback. We look forward to sharing our findings as these early experiments develop.

Most space flight games give ships artificial drag so they handle like fighter planes in an atmosphere. In Deep Space Tow Truck, we want the player to feel the true, unforgiving nature of Newtonian physics in a vacuum.

The core fantasy is about weight and inertia. When an industrial tug attaches a magnetic cable to a dead 15,000-ton bulk freighter, the tug does not just haul it away easily. Every burst from your thrusters introduces tension into the line, and any misalignment can pull the tug into a dangerous spin or snap the tether completely.

Right now, our technical focus is on exploring how tether elasticity and rotational dampening should behave in early physics prototypes. If the simulation is too unforgiving, it becomes frustrating; if it is too simplified, the sense of immense mass is lost. Finding that balance between believable physics and satisfying tactile feedback is our primary goal.

We are exploring mathematical models for cable tension and multi-axis dampening, and we will share test breakdowns as our prototype comes together.

Summonwill Gaming was founded on a simple creative philosophy: we build games around strong ideas, satisfying gameplay, memorable worlds, and games we genuinely want to play. We are driven by unbound creativity—following good game concepts wherever they lead rather than restricting ourselves to a single formula.

Our first projects happen to explore dangerous work in impossible places—from coastal titan bio-salvage to orbital deep-space haulage—because those settings immediately offered rich tactile mechanics and fresh player agency.

As an independent studio, we are building this company from the ground up while balancing full-time careers. We do not have large departments or venture-backed budgets, and we are not pretending to. Instead, we are focusing on small, disciplined vertical slices and building our foundational systems deliberately.

We use modern tools—including assistive AI for brainstorming, early visual exploration, and workflow iteration—to help an early-stage studio test ambitious ideas. But every creative direction, mechanical priority, and final design decision is human-derived, human-directed, and human-approved.

This development journal will be our transparent record of the journey: the problems we are trying to solve, the prototypes we test, and the lessons we learn along the way.