I switched to "God mode," flying up to see the layout. It wasn't a scenic route through the Alps or a New Zealand coastline. It was a replica of a city—a city I recognized. It was my hometown, rendered in perfect, terrifying detail, down to the chipped paint on my neighbor's mailbox.

The game didn't open in the usual bright, airy studio. Instead, I was standing in a massive, concrete room. The lighting was a sickly, flickering yellow. There were no windows, and the ceiling was lost in a thick, artificial fog. In the center of the room was a single, sprawling plywood table, miles long, covered in tracks that didn't look like plastic. They looked like rusted iron.

Confused, I looked back at the tracks. A single locomotive was rounding the corner three blocks away. It wasn't a standard steam engine or a modern diesel. It was a black, windowless monolith, pulling a long string of cattle cars. As it got closer, I realized the sound wasn't the rhythmic chug-chug of an engine. It was a low, looped recording of a human heartbeat.

Rolling-line.rar

I switched to "God mode," flying up to see the layout. It wasn't a scenic route through the Alps or a New Zealand coastline. It was a replica of a city—a city I recognized. It was my hometown, rendered in perfect, terrifying detail, down to the chipped paint on my neighbor's mailbox.

The game didn't open in the usual bright, airy studio. Instead, I was standing in a massive, concrete room. The lighting was a sickly, flickering yellow. There were no windows, and the ceiling was lost in a thick, artificial fog. In the center of the room was a single, sprawling plywood table, miles long, covered in tracks that didn't look like plastic. They looked like rusted iron. Rolling-Line.rar

Confused, I looked back at the tracks. A single locomotive was rounding the corner three blocks away. It wasn't a standard steam engine or a modern diesel. It was a black, windowless monolith, pulling a long string of cattle cars. As it got closer, I realized the sound wasn't the rhythmic chug-chug of an engine. It was a low, looped recording of a human heartbeat. I switched to "God mode," flying up to see the layout