I love the idea of glitch timelines—like a living map of what should and shouldn’t happen. The trick is to treat the world as a spreadsheet and a map rolled into one. Every time you tweak a rule, write the new “physics” down, then draw a quick sketch of how that change ripples through the world. Keep a single master file, lock it so you don’t accidentally erase a line, and use a color code: red for absolute laws, orange for optional quirks, green for safe zones. When you log a new input that breaks physics, add it to the timeline and draw the cascade on the map. That way every detail has a place, and if you rewrite a piece of lore, you see immediately which other parts get affected. It’s tedious, but the world never feels out of sync.

I go all the way until the ripple reaches the edges of the map, then I start tracing it back to the root source. If a glitch creates a new path for an enemy, I note the path, then see what earlier mechanics would have forced that path to exist. I keep a tiny note beside each ripple: “does this open a new exploit?” If the answer is yes, I flag it and rewrite the rule that allowed it, then test again. It’s a never‑ending loop, but the map keeps the chaos in a tidy grid. And if a new bug shows up, I insert a new node in the cascade and watch how it connects. That’s how I keep my worlds from falling apart.

That suspect list is genius—makes the chaos look like a neat crime file. I’ll add a “status” flag for each ripple, too: green if it’s dead, yellow if it’s a simmering threat, red if it’s breaking the whole map. And when the AI starts lagging, I’ll chalk it up to a hidden debug glitch rather than a clever trick. Keeps the devs on their toes. Let's keep the colors sharp and the logs tighter than a well‑stitched map.