Das Numinous

Blue Hour 2029

This April I wrote a piece called Claude Blue, about how all of Silicon Valley had gotten depressed because of AI. Far more people related to it than I expected, and it stayed with me for a long time. This time I took the world that grew out of that piece and made a simple chat game.

The world, the message, the visuals, the game mechanics: Claude (Fable 5.1) made all of it. All I did was have it read my entire Brunch blog and hand it what I've been wrestling with all this time.

The game is called Blue Hour 2029. The AI came up with the name from the blue hour, the moment when the sun sits just past the horizon. In Korean it's called "the hour between the dog and the wolf," because in that light you can't tell one from the other. It even works in a pun on Claude Blue, which I thought was a pretty clever bit of naming.

In this game's world there's a giant agent called Dan (斷, a character that means "to cut" or "to decide"). Everything in the world moves in its grip. But humans still have one role left: the final signature. Every time Dan makes a decision, it asks a human to sign off. Of course, nobody knows how much that signature actually counts for.

The world has a white tower that seems to pierce the clouds, and at its feet sprawls a lawless human society the agent hasn't reached yet. The main character lives up in that tower. On paper, they're in a different class from the people below. So why do you keep feeling for them, and why does your heart keep getting pulled down there?

I'm not sure how fun the game is in an obvious, immediate way. But it has a clear world and a clear story, and playing it myself, I found that pretty interesting. Watching AI add color on top of a story AI had written for me felt ironic and strange in a good way.

Next I'm imagining what it would look like to make a soundtrack, an animation, maybe even merch and offline meetups. Once you've played it, I'd love to hear what you thought, and what the letter that arrives at the end said to you.

Last thing. In the blue hour, is the sun setting or rising again? Here in 2026, the time in between, before the direction is set, that open future feels like the core of this game.

Play Blue Hour 2029: https://bluehour2029.github.io/

A scene from Blue Hour 2029. "Dan never burns the bungeoppang. But people sometimes buy the ones with slightly burnt edges."
A scene from Blue Hour 2029. "Dan never burns the bungeoppang. But people sometimes buy the ones with slightly burnt edges."

BLUE HOUR 2029 · The last role left to humans

December 2029, Seoul. A single agent runs everything. You give the final signature. On the evening of the third day, you vote on whether to keep the last neighborhood the agent hasn't touched. 20 minutes, free.

Also, one of our community members left a really kind review, and I'm still a little amazed by it.

Running the Bloom community, we talk a lot about AI trends and practical stuff. But when community members get to talking freely, it always comes back to one place.

So how am I supposed to survive in the age of AI?

That question was probably what drew people to this community in the first place. In the end, it's a conversation about identity.

At the most basic level, what I can offer at our gatherings is insight and a chance to meet people. But when people are down, they don't always go looking for a cure. They drink, they watch movies, they listen to music. None of that solves anything at the root, but sometimes it comforts you more. So I wanted to make that kind of entertainment for people going through Claude Blue.

Last Friday, another community member came by to see me. We were trading views on AI businesses these days, and as usual the conversation ended up drifting toward a slightly bitter future.

Why human rights existed

My thinking was that human rights have existed because there was still work in this world only humans could do, and that work had economic value. There was a reason to keep human beings around. So we built all kinds of systems, like democracy, to protect human rights. On the flip side, there are still places in the world today where human rights barely exist. Maybe that's because, there, humans are seen as not very useful.

But if a new species shows up that beats us in every way, body and mind, and that hierarchy stays locked in for a long time, can human rights survive? Will as many people as today agree they matter and hold them up? I'm not so sure. Once a certain transition period passes, human rights may stop being a practical idea and survive only as an abstraction. The game sums up that state in a single line:

Don't worry. Human rights still hold. It's just that no one knows for how long.

Even so, as members of the species called human, we have an instinct to look out for the people in our own pack. So I figured the last shred of pride we could leave humans would be the vote, the right to take part in governing.

In the game, then, all the planning and execution, all the work of making the world richer and better, falls to the agents, the new species, and humans are left with only one act: reviewing it with a vote. But even that vote has no effect on the actual decisions. All that's left is a meaningless act, carried on like a final struggle.

Thinking about this, I kept picturing tigers and horses. Tigers and horses still haven't gone extinct. Their numbers hold. It's just that they survive in zoos and circuses, as part of entertainment, not in the wild. The numbers stay the same, but their influence as a species is nothing like it used to be. I wonder if we'll end up the same way. Same numbers, with the work we used to do quietly disappearing.

The tigers are still here. Their numbers are holding steady. The only thing gone is their wildness.

If I could go back to 2015

It sounds far-fetched, and then after a little of this kind of talk, it doesn't seem like such a wrong guess about the future. Ten years ago, the idea that AI would show up and take over most of a personal assistant's job had already appeared many times in movies and novels. And a lot of it has come true. The only real question was when.

So sometimes I imagine this. If I could go back to 2015 already knowing this future would be here by 2026, what would I have done differently? I think that question is a pretty meaningful luxury.

When the sun sits just past the horizon, Koreans call it "the hour between the dog and the wolf," because you can't tell the two apart. In English, I learned, it's called the blue hour. But in that moment, is the sun setting? Or is it rising again?

It's 2026 now. I can't know what the future will look like three years from now, but because this moment feels like somewhere in between, the AI named the game "Blue Hour 2029."

What is the me of 2029 shouting at the me of 2026 to go try? I think just imagining that voice may be one way to prepare a little better for the time we're in now.

A Friday coffee chat turned into a game

I shared these thoughts over coffee that Friday, and the conversation went into the game's world almost word for word. I didn't pick the name Blue Hour, either. It came naturally from the AI reading the blog posts and notes I've written over time, in other words, what I've been wrestling with. I liked that it also plays on my earlier post, Claude Blue.

Originally I wanted to make something like an RPG, but the cost was too high, so I scaled it down to a chat app. If this kind of story lands with people, I can imagine taking it all the way to something like an open-world game someday.

Playtime is about 20 minutes. It's completely free, and you can start right in your browser. Besides Korean, it supports English, Chinese, Japanese, and Spanish.

I'm not sure how fun the game is. But it has a clear world and a clear story, and playing it myself, I found that pretty interesting. Watching AI add color on top of a story AI had written for me felt ironic and strange in a good way.

The goal I have in mind is the Backrooms. It started in 2019 with a single photo and a short caption posted on an anonymous message board. Kane Parsons, who was 14 at the time, saw it and in January 2022 made a short found-footage film and put it on YouTube. That video now has over 90 million views, and at 20 he made a feature film with A24. It opened in May this year, earned more than $390 million worldwide, and in its first week made him the youngest director ever to top the North American and global box office.

It's proof that if you have an idea and a world, spreading it is the next step. I'd love for Claude Blue to become that kind of material in the age of AI.

The world of Blue Hour: December 2029, Seoul

BLUE HOUR 2029 · The last role left to humans

A single agent called Dan moves nearly everything. No one took anything away. People simply no longer needed to be better at anything. Atmospheric reflectivity adjustment. Year three. The agent called it a project to fix the climate. This December is eleven degrees colder than last. The population keeps shrinking, too. The long-range projection reads one billion people worldwide. It doesn't say when. There is no policy stopping anyone from having children…. We have one job left. To give the final signature on the decisions Dan makes. Four hundred a day. You don't have to read them. You can even vote no. You just have to sign. The white tower is home to people with a high HRV (Human Residual Value), a score set by the company. You live on one of the tower's lower floors. The bar for residency is 85. The year you moved in, there was no bar. You've heard a rumor that at midnight on December 24, there will be a review of whether to clear out the neighborhood below. At the same midnight, tower residency comes up for review again. In your room there is On, an agent bound to you. Smarter than you, and worried about you.

Originally written in Korean on Brunch, September 20, 2026.

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