Part One: Who Are We, Really?
If the world could truly be a game, then the first question we need to face is not the world itself, but who we truly are. This question has accompanied almost all of humanity’s exploration of consciousness, existence, and free will: are all the choices we make throughout our lives truly created by our own consciousness, or do they come from some higher-level program, rules, or even an external force that we cannot perceive? Today, Lotus Ritual wants to approach this question from a perspective closer to personal experience — not by first discussing what the universe is, but by observing ourselves as the “experiencers” and asking what kind of position we truly occupy in this reality.
From this perspective, RPG and NPC become two concepts that cannot be avoided. An NPC represents a subject that exists within the game itself. It is a generated character within the system, and it does not necessarily lack feelings or emotions. An RPG represents a subject that exists beyond the game world; the body is an avatar entering the world, while the player itself makes choices from outside the character. From the perspective of Lotus Ritual, we tend to understand every individual as an RPG. At least from the experience of the first person, we do not feel like completely predetermined programs written into the system. We possess a continuous sense of self; the body feels like a temporary vessel, life feels like an unfolding quest line, and choices seem to come from a deeper level of consciousness. However, this does not mean that we have completely understood our own control, nor does it mean that external forces do not exist. We are simply standing at this starting point for now:
As individuals, we are players who are experiencing this world.
But when we look at other people, the question becomes much more complicated. We can never truly enter another person’s consciousness. Even with those closest to us, what we see is always only their external expressions, words, behaviors, and choices, rather than their complete inner world. Therefore, from our perspective, other people are always a kind of unopened black box. We cannot determine whether another person is merely a character within this world, or whether they are, just like us, another player with their own consciousness, experiencing their own journey through life. Because of this, Lotus Ritual does not encourage us to simply define others as NPCs, because such a judgment itself may hide a kind of arrogance. What truly matters is not distinguishing who is an NPC and who is an RPG, but realizing that we can only enter the world from our own perspective, and that every living being may possess a deeper existence that we cannot reach.
Part Two: What Exactly Is the World?
We are usually accustomed to believing that the world is made up of various concrete “things”: mountains, rivers, trees, bodies, planets, and countless objects. They appear like stable building blocks that together form the reality we experience. However, as humanity has continued to explore the deeper structure of matter, we have gradually discovered that the world may not be as solid and fixed as it appears on the surface. What we perceive are objects, but at a deeper level, there may exist particles, energy, states, and the constantly changing relationships between them. From this perspective, the universe may not be composed of countless static things, but rather a continuously operating structure of information.
This is also why some scientific theories suggest that the foundation of reality may be connected to information. The physicist John Wheeler proposed the concept of “it from bit,” expressing the possibility that the reality we experience (“it”) may originate from something more fundamental: information (“bit”). Here, information does not simply refer to computer code, but represents a much broader concept — the states of things, the relationships between them, and the patterns through which they change. Just like a photograph: on the surface, it is an image, but from a deeper perspective, it is only a large amount of information arranged according to certain rules. A book is also not truly defined by paper and ink, because the same story can be carved into stone, printed on paper, or stored digitally. What remains unchanged is not the physical form, but the information and relationships behind it.
If we extend this concept further to the entire universe, perhaps the stars, life, and even ourselves can all be understood as manifestations of a deeper informational system. The reality we experience may be like an interface that is constantly being read, unfolded, and generated, while hidden beneath the surface is a more fundamental set of operating rules.
If reality is an information system, then the world we experience may not be completely revealed all at once, but instead gradually appear through interaction. This idea can be understood through the concept of “rendering” in video games. In an open-world game, the entire world may be unimaginably large, but only the area near the player is rendered with the highest level of detail. Distant cities, characters, and environments are not simultaneously presented in full precision. For the player, however, the world still feels complete because the unfolding of the world is connected to the player’s actions.
Similarly, this idea has led some people to draw connections with certain phenomena in quantum physics: at the microscopic level, particles do not always behave like objects in our everyday experience, possessing a completely fixed state at all times. Instead, they appear to present more specific results after interacting with their environment and entering into relationships. Of course, this does not prove that the universe is literally a video game, but it provides a meaningful metaphor worth contemplating — perhaps reality is not a stage that has already been completely fixed, but rather a process that continuously unfolds through observation, interaction, and relationships.
However, being “generated” does not mean being “unreal.” Characters in a movie are created through light and shadow, yet they can still evoke genuine emotions within the audience. Worlds in video games are created through code, yet they can still allow players to experience authentic joy, sadness, and growth. If the universe is a higher-dimensional informational system, then for the lives existing within it, love, suffering, choices, and relationships still possess undeniable meaning.
The world may be a generated game, but the experience within that game can still be a real life.
Part Three: Why Isn’t It Easy Mode?
If life is a game, then one of the questions most worth exploring is this: why did we enter a world filled with limitations, difficulties, and uncertainty, instead of a simple mode where we have unlimited resources, unlimited lives, and no suffering? When we experience failure, loss, loneliness, betrayal, or long periods of confusion, this question often naturally appears in our minds. If there is truly some kind of design behind this world, why was it not created as a gentler and easier version?
We can try to approach this question through the logic of games themselves. Imagine a game without any challenges. The player begins with the highest level, unlimited wealth, and the ability to change everything. Any mistake can be immediately undone, any failure can be restarted, and any goal can be completed instantly. Such a world may appear perfect, but eventually it may lose the most important thing — meaning. Because when every outcome can be easily obtained, when every choice carries no real consequences, the choices themselves gradually lose their weight. What makes a game meaningful is not that the player possesses everything, but that they gradually gain new abilities through action, learning, and growth within a world of limitations.
A great game always creates rules: limited resources, unknown maps, unpredictable challenges, and levels that require players to constantly overcome themselves. The reason a player feels excitement after defeating a powerful enemy is not simply because of the victory itself, but because before that victory, they experienced failure, adjustment, learning, and transformation. If a character is born already at the maximum level, then although they possess power, they will never experience the meaning that comes from growth.
From this perspective, the difficulties in life may not necessarily represent punishment. They may also be a mechanism that allows the experience itself to exist. Because we experience loss, we truly understand how to cherish. Because we have faced darkness, we are able to recognize light more deeply. Because we live within limitations, we are forced to discover possibilities hidden within ourselves. A world without any resistance may provide comfort, but it would be difficult to create depth. What truly shapes a person is not how many resources they possess, but how they face their choices when resources are limited and answers remain unknown.
Perhaps we entered this world not to experience a place that is always safe and always easy, but to live through a story that can only exist because of limitations. Life is finite, and therefore every encounter becomes precious. Time is limited, and therefore every choice carries weight. We cannot restart endlessly, and therefore our actions truly represent who we are. The reason difficulty mode feels difficult may be precisely because it gives players the opportunity to grow, explore, and create themselves. We do not enter this world because we are already strong; perhaps the opposite is true — we enter this world so that after experiencing everything, we gradually become a more complete version of ourselves.
If we try to understand the world from this perspective, the greatest meaning it brings is not that it allows us to escape reality, but that it allows us to face reality in a new way. When we see life as an experience that is continuously unfolding, every difficulty is no longer merely an obstacle, but may become part of the process that helps us grow. Those experiences that caused us pain, those losses we once could not understand, and those challenges that forced us to change may not have appeared to destroy us, but to help us unlock new abilities and complete the next stage of our journey.
Just like the levels in a game, when a player encounters a powerful enemy, it is not because the game wants the player to fail. It is because only through challenges can the character gain experience, increase their level, and enter a new world. Life works the same way. We cannot know in advance what a certain difficulty will eventually bring, but often it is during the hardest stages that we begin to understand our true selves, discover hidden strength, and learn things we were once unable to understand.
So when we face the difficulties in front of us, perhaps we can choose another way to see them:
The world is not attacking you; you are simply experiencing your own level.
This does not mean that pain does not exist, nor does it mean that everything will be solved easily. Instead, it reminds us that we still possess the ability to continue moving forward, even in temporary darkness.
If this world truly is a game, then you did not come here to remain forever inside a safe zone. You came here to experience, explore, grow, and eventually become a more complete version of yourself than when you first entered.
Every level has a moment when it ends. Every stage has a reason for existing.
Do not give up on yourself too easily. Hold on a little longer. Try a little harder. Perhaps the challenge you are facing right now is exactly the doorway leading to the next stage.
Your story is still unfolding.
There is more ahead than you can see.