"I'm telling you, this is stupid!" Gregory crossed his arms. In truth he was jealous. He should have come up with the idea. "There's no way anyone would play this. I'll have to spend weeks fixing the concept, not to mention balancing things out." [i]Damn it, Sasha! Why did you have to be so good![/i]

"Are you sure?" Sasha looked at him, puzzled. "I thought it was good. My sister said she enjoyed it..."

"You played it with your sister?!" Gregory slapped his face. "Are you crazy? What if she steals the idea?"

"She's my sister, Greg." Sasha narrowed her eyes. "She won't do that to me. Besides, who will she tell? It's not like she wants to get into the industry."

Gregory didn't say anything. He had spent years of his life trying to make it big, taking all sorts of game classes, getting in touch with the right people, finding a job at the right place. By all standards he was on the path to industry greatness. The only problem was that he had stopped having ideas. Working on a job from nine to nine left him little time and even less creativity to devote to his own projects. In contrast, Sasha had no professional experience whatsoever. Everything she knew she had learned by playing, as well as having a few mentoring sessions from Gregory. Despite that, she came up with the most brilliant ideas.

"Anyway, I still think you should change the name," Gregory grumbled, his eyes not leaving the prototype on the floor. "All this thing about time equating wounds, doesn't work."

"And why not?" Now it was Sasha's turn to cross her arms. "What's wrong with that?"

"Too abstract. Half your target audience will skip it because it'll make them feel stupid. The rest will claim it's too niche, give it a few mediocre reviews and bury it under tons of stupid articles on their blogs." [i]Why can't you see? Originality never is a plus![/i] "You keep thinking fluff and aesthetics, while you should be focusing on audience and mechanics."

"But time heals all wounds!" Sasha wouldn't give up. "You know that, I know that, everyone knows that!"

"You're still thinking top-down approach," Gregory grumbled. [i]Why do the best ideas come to those with the least understanding?[/i] "And what's with the two types of wounds? Some get healed by skipping turns, others don't. Where's the logic in that?"

"Well, time can't heal all wounds." Sasha frowned. "Just look at you."

"Yeah, right." Gregory grabbed a pen and a sheet of paper. "Based on your stats the game is just—" he suddenly stopped. He had just realized what Sasha had said. "What do you mean?" He asked quietly, feeling a dull cold pain in his stomach.

"Err, you're probably right." Sasha looked away. "You've been doing this stuff for years. I've just read a few books. What do I know?" She tried to laugh it away, but it was too late. Gregory was looking at her expectantly. "It's really no big deal. I'll think of something else and—"

"What do you mean?" he repeated.

"Look, I didn't mean it. You've helped me a lot and I'm just being mean and..." She paused. By the looks of things stalling was only making matters worse. Gregory wanted an answer. "You used to enjoy new ideas once. Now you get more and more bitter with each year."

Gregory felt as if he had been turned inside out. His first reaction was to refuse to believe it. All those years he had gained knowledge, excellence, experience... not bitterness. He still enjoyed lots of stuff! He was probably just upset because Sasha had come up with the idea and not him. It happens. However, the more he thought about it, the less certain he was. What if she was right? What if time had made that particular wound worse?

"You were the inspiration for this, you know," Sasha said, starting to gather the game components. "I thought I'd be able to remind you of what you were. But if it isn't good enough..."

"It's..." Gregory felt the words stuck in his throat. "It's a great idea. But it will never sell," he added with a sad smile. "It's a gem and will never sell..."

"You're probably right." Sasha put the components away, then sat beside him. "But I don't care." She kissed him on the cheek. The prototype had served its purpose. Time would do the rest.