I've grown to like the role of a bridge. I was a person tired of dreaming. I was so used to spending moments and days immersed in plans that lay beyond my comprehension. As a child, I thought of mixing Frankenstein and culinary wars: making proteins and the building blocks of life from dead matter. I didn't know then that it had a name—abiogenesis. I simply thought of exploring the explosive art of bringing objects to life, or at least to a state where they could become a type of food or seasoning; essentially, crafting edible food from inedible—or widely perceived inedible—materials. I imagined a pretend universe where people grew their own food, hunted, and expanded their empires in-game, on paper, as we had neither computers nor public internet back then. The crops they harvested and the loot they earned through the microtransactions they paid me would be returned to them in real life in the form of a feast I would buy for my group of pretend-worlders. I played with magnets...