In the wave of AI-generated content sweeping the creative industry, a game called "Codex Mortis," reminiscent of "Vampire Survivors," has made an unprecedented claim — all aspects from code, art to music are driven by artificial intelligence. Developer Grolaf (also known as Crunchfest) publicly stated that this independent work, completed in just three months, is one of the "100% AI-generated games" in the true sense.
According to his own account, the entire development process almost entirely relied on large models: artistic materials were conceived by ChatGPT (not an official image API, but through text descriptions to guide generation), character animations could not be implemented due to technical limitations and were ultimately simulated using shaders written by Claude; on the code level, TypeScript was used, based on PIXI.js for rendering, bitECS for building entity-component systems, and Electron for packaging as a desktop application. Grolaf refers to this development approach as "vibe-coded" — he provides intent and style preferences, while AI fills in the details.

"I initially just wanted to verify if this model was feasible," he admitted when responding to player questions, "to my surprise, GPT could actually remember my preferred visual style and maintain consistency across multiple conversations." He also described the development experience as "far less mentally exhausting than traditional methods, like giving construction workers exoskeletons."
However, this game that claims to be "completely AI-generated" has sparked intense controversy since the release of its free Steam demo. The store page reviews are "mixed," and the community discussion section is full of sharp criticisms: "Lol, this thing looks terrible," "a garbage AI production line product," "a dangerous slippery slope," "100% AI-generated — don't buy or support it." Even in relatively friendly Reddit subreddits like r/aigamedev, several mild comments were mysteriously deleted, leading to speculation about community moderation and ideological battles.
The game itself has a gothic fantasy setting: players combine five dark magic schools, summoning the undead, releasing collaborative spells, and surviving in bullet hell. But what truly sparked the discussion wasn't the gameplay, but the underlying methodology — when a developer hardly draws a single image or writes a line of core logic, but instead collaborates with AI through prompts to "assemble" a complete game, is this a liberation of creative efficiency or a surrender of creative sovereignty?
"Codex Mortis" may technically be rough, with a fragmented art style and simple animation, but it acts as a mirror, reflecting the collective anxiety and exploration of creators in the AI era. The developer himself admits that the hassle from Tauri to Electron, and the difficulties in integrating with Steam, have exposed the practical challenges of "engineless development." Yet, despite this, he still completed a full end-to-end experiment.
Regardless of praise or criticism, "Codex Mortis" has become a landmark case: it's not the best game, but it might be the most honest AI creation statement. Beyond the binary narrative of "human vs machine," it raises a more complex question — when AI becomes an "exoskeleton" on the creative production line, how should we redefine "author," "originality," and "value"? The answer may lie within those "mixed" playtest reviews.
