Original idea

After the quartet was done with discussing work, they talked about everything else. It was a unique opportunity for them to socialize with someone so unlike themselves. All four of them had different interests and their paths rarely crossed.

Dimitri went to classes, ate, slept and coded. He had only one fascination – with technology. From software to hardware, he greedily devoured knowledge about everything. Anna was the same about biology and spent her days with Zhao in the laboratory. Michael wasn't sure about Sofia's situation, but she most likely received special lessons as a daughter of a high-ranking Bulgarian politician.

And then there was Michael North. Enrolled in all the hardest classes, armed with a solid idea about potential future events and the only cultivator in the Universe. Martial arts expert, game design enthusiast, newbie YouTube personality.

In the middle of Anna's explanation of the biological laboratory's rules, Michael's phone rang. He was going to ignore it, but Caller ID showed Mark Jones. Interested in what the teacher had to say, Michael apologized and left the room.

"Sir?"

"Hey, Michael. How are ya?" after the incident with the thugs, Jones's respect for the teenager grew once more. His speech became more informal, and he loved mentioning how Michael had "stuck it to Kamyshov."

"Everything's fine. Do you have something to tell me?"

"That's right."

"Good news, I hope?"

"The best! I managed to hire Jimmy Carter to teach at EIS."

"Sir. Jimmy Carter was a US president. He is over 80 years old. Are you sure this is the best course of action?"

"Go to hell!" Jones laughed. "Not president Carter, my buddy from America. Remember, I told you I worked for a senator? The one who buried his own career a week before the election?"

Michael grunted in agreement.

"Well, when I worked for his campaign, Jimmy was a political journalist. We worked together on many occasions. He wrote puff pieces, you know, for good PR. Alas, in the end, no amount of PR could've saved that poor bastard from his stunt in a titty bar."

"Sir, please," huffed Michael. Sometimes he preferred "you owe me" Jones to the happy and friendly Jones.

"Right. Short version. Jimmy was between jobs and reached out to me. He will teach you history this year."

Realization dawned upon Michael, "You mean, instead of Apoll?"

"With him, I'll completely shut Kamyshov down. By the way, don't worry. That guy hasn't been making any waves in your direction at all."

"Good to hear."

"So, if you need anything, a library pass, I don't know, you can go to Jimmy. I already told him about our little partnership."

Michael opened his mouth to scold the man but held back. The fact that Jones readily accepted Carter to his inner circle said volumes about their relationship. They were obviously old friends, and it wasn't Michael's place to give out advice. His relationship with Jones was in no way incriminating, so he wouldn't suffer even if their alliance became known.

"All right, sir. Thank you."

"Just imagine. Jimmy Carter. I always thought his name could be a real asset if only he knew how to use it. Would make a good campaign slogan. Here's a piece of advice, Michael: always use every advantage you have."

"Thanks."

After ending the call, Michael stood in the hall questioning himself if he indeed used everything at his disposal. His knowledge of a possible future, his cultivation. What else did he have? He only knew of an impending space object he couldn't tell anyone about.

Becoming known as a prophet wasn't among his plans. Unless...

Young cultivator stood motionless in the hall, thinking the idea over. 'Finish it with a message. Better yet, video. No, animation. And call the second one... Unbroken. Too much? Whatever, I need to tell the guys.'

"I have an idea!" he announced from the door. Three heads were raised simultaneously. "But it means more work."

Dimitri facepalmed. More work meant he would have to cut down on classes, his eating or sleeping time. He started considering if he took Michael as his leader a bit too early when he realized their designer was staring right at him.

"I just need to ask you one question first. It doesn't matter if the girls agree. Don't be offended, please," Michael pacified them, "In this scenario, I am replaceable too. Only Dimitri isn't. He knows the game inside out."

"Excuse me! The question?"

"If the game is successful... No, if Angry Birds earns you personally a hundred million dollars, will you make another one? With me."

Dimitri stared at Michael's serious face for a minute and broke down in laughter.

It was difficult for Michael to put himself in his friends' shoes. They thought they were making an average game here, treating it mostly as a fun experience. How could they imagine they held such a gem in their hands?

"Ha-ha-ha, a hundred, oh my," Dimitri wiped off the tears, "Do you know how much my parents make? Less than a hundred thousand a year. Together. And they are both college-educated white collar office workers."

"So?" Michael stared the programmer down.

"Man, if I can earn even half of that, I will line up to make another game with you."

"It's decided, then. Ladies?"

Anna imitated a military salute. Other than her mother, if there was a person whose request she couldn't refuse, it would be Michael. Sofia, on the other hand, was uncertain.

"Don't worry, it's fine if you help us finish the first one. We only need several more animations."

"Why don't you tell us your genius idea so we can all appreciate it?" voiced Dimitri.

Michael cleared his throat and waved his hands, "Ready? My idea is... plot!"

"Wha? Didn't you say Angry Birds only needed a simple setup?"

"And it did. Not anymore. Imagine, the birds are closing in. Over the last few levels, the sky has been getting darker. Flashes of animated lightning flicker far away. Finally, they reach the Pig King. He is too far to hit, so we ruin the thieves' last castle.

And then, the King oinks menacingly and lightning rains on our heroes. He runs away, the screen shows the birds unconscious. They wake up and give chase, but the bastard is already on a ship. They lost him.

That's when they notice another ship, loaded with eggs. They storm it and retrieve their young. However, that is only half of them. They sail to catch the king once more.

Let me speed up a bit. Pig King is now in the sturdiest castle. The eggs have been recouped in full, but the birds thirst for revenge. They crush the castle and face the enemy.

His magic is too powerful, their attempts futile. He summons an asteroid on their heads and teleports away. The birds take the collision head on and survive. Stronger, meaner, angrier.

The game ends with a gigantic silhouette shielding them from the sun as an aged voice speaks, 'You've done well, my children. But the pigs haven't learned their lesson. They will return. And this time, we will be ready.'"

Dimitri and the girls were silent. Someone coughed to get rid of the awkwardness.

"That was pretty great."

"Maybe so, but the players won't hear it from Michael. They will see it as animations. Remind me, why is this so important?"

"Wait!" yelled Sofia, "Do I have to animate all of this?!"

"We can do it in a special effects editor. Seriously, did you think everything needs to be drawn by hand?" elbowed her Dimitri.

"This is important," interrupted them Michael, "because every player will find something he can relate to."

"Like what, loss of eggs?"

"Don't be a smartass, dude. Sofia, let's discuss the animations. As for the asteroid, we'll put it off for a bit."

Michael wanted to glean some actual facts of what the space object looked like before designing the asteroid in the game.