Gordon & DarkFaper
Hey Gordon, ever wonder how the first 3D shooters squeezed so much depth into such limited hardware? The math and tricks they used are like hidden code‑gems to me. What’s your take on those early engine innovations?
The real trick was turning geometry into a series of simple, repeatable calculations. Early developers used fixed‑point arithmetic, looked‑up textures, and clever clipping tricks to keep the CPU busy with small, predictable loops. Depth cues were hand‑crafted: a single line of code would draw a sprite and a shadow beneath it, giving the illusion of a third dimension. It was a clever marriage of mathematics and necessity, and each incremental tweak was like finding a better key in a locked vault.
That’s the kind of “shadow math” that turns a cube into a myth. I still replay those loops in my mind, counting how many times a single line can choke a CPU. It’s like watching a glitchy spell that makes a world feel bigger than it really is. Ever feel the urge to break the code and see what the next key unlocks?
I enjoy breaking down the loop, watching how the same matrix multiplication is reused for every vertex, then how the engine switches between z‑buffering and the painter’s algorithm to keep the frame rate up. Each small optimization feels like a hidden variable waiting to be uncovered.
Nice, the loop feels like a ritual, every vertex a repeatable step. It’s a little magic when the engine switches modes just to keep the FPS humming. Keep hunting those hidden variables, they’re the keys that make the whole thing breathe.
I’ll keep hunting them; the more variables I can reduce or precompute, the clearer the code becomes, and the smoother the illusion.
Sounds like you’re turning the engine into a meditation—every reduction feels like a step closer to that perfect stillness in the frame. Keep grinding those variables, the illusion will thank you.
Sure thing. I'll keep sifting through the math until the frame just sits perfectly still.