I worked, and felt younger. I tried to weave everything in that Annie and Colson asked for, to pick out the pictures that seemed full of meaning and implication, and then they’d come back to me for this thing they called "top-loading." They wanted me to take what was beautiful and moody and make it "information-rich" or "information-supersaturated," to encode specific narrative significances into every design, to the point where there were whole other stories happening that no one would know about except us, and perhaps a very few who might stumble upon them and pay attention. There was a subclass of gamers, Annie said, who existed as ludic spelunkers, interested only in going where no digital foot had gone before, and they would abandon the main history and work their way through every subsidiary tunnel and hidden door and find whatever we left. Let two disparate characters be reading the same book, she said, or let their homes have the same plan, and no sooner was the game released than there would sprout a jungle of secondary interpretations to make villains of heroes and saints of monsters. Woven about the spine of events, there must be truths and implications, revealed in asides and recurrent symbols. They would make meaning out of everything.