Design
The third phase was where everything became real—and messy, and experimental, and emotional.
I decided to use Fortnite’s Creative Mode, with Unreal Editor for Fortnite (UEFN), to build my prototype. It might sound unexpected, but there are a lot of misconceptions about Fortnite: it isn’t just a battle royale, it’s a tool for world-building. It’s familiar to millions, and it offered me the flexibility I needed—open-world environments, immersive audio, custom asset support, and scripting options via Verse.
From Forest to Memorial Hall
My first prototype was an open-world forest: a boundless, atmospheric environment with a winding path and scattered memories. I initially chose this format because I didn’t want the experience to feel like a digital museum exhibit or educational virtual tour. I wanted to emphasize freedom, curiosity, and exploration—letting visitors discover memories in their own time and way.
But during testing, people felt lost.
The lack of spatial framing made it hard for visitors to connect with the narrative. While the openness was beautiful, it left some unsure of what to do or how to feel. The emotions I hoped to spark got lost in ambiguity.
In response, I redesigned the experience using a more structured format—a building with rooms, still airy and peaceful, but with clearer orientation.
Each room represents a life stage:
Childhood: Bright colors, nostalgic playground audio, and surreal textures
College: Hallway sounds with transitional imagery
Adulthood: Travel, professional milestones with muted city soundscapes
Reflection: A quiet, airy memorial pool with a statue, inviting pause
I used tools like Meshy AI and Bender to generate and refine custom 3D assets, replacing generic or overly cartoonish models sourced from Sketchfab and CG Trader. Lighting, music, and signage shaped the emotional tone of each space.
Designing Feelings
This phase wasn’t about gameplay—it was about emotional pacing. How long should someone linger? What does it mean to wander through a memory? Could a hallway evoke the same emotion as a eulogy?
Every design choice asked: How do we want to be remembered—not just seen, but felt?
Designing for Feelings, Not Features
This wasn’t about gameplay. It was about atmosphere. How does a texture make you feel? What does a color say about a season of life? Could a walking path through a memory be more impactful than a scroll of posts?
It was deeply personal, but it didn’t feel self-centered. It felt like an offering.
