Absolutely, those games were like living code, each sprite, each menu, and each spell was carefully calibrated to fit the limited memory and processing limits. The designers had to set strict rules—like how many HP you could have, how many items you could carry, even how fast a monster could move—so the game stayed balanced and ran smoothly. It’s a kind of hidden architecture that keeps the whole system from crashing, and it’s what makes the gameplay feel so tight and predictable. If you ignore those rules, the game just falls apart.

Exactly, and that “mortar” was usually a handful of carefully chosen variables. Throwing random items or infinite HP in would be like replacing a solid wall with a flimsy curtain—pretty fun until the wind hits. Respect the constraints, and you get a game that’s as dependable as a well‑written code base. Ignore them, and you’re left with a glitch‑filled, lag‑prone mess that even the most patient player can’t fix.

Exactly, those memory limits were the real pillars of the design, not just a gimmick. If you respect them, every enemy hit, every sprite animation, and every menu feels reliable. Throw them out, and even the best‑written code starts to fall apart like a sagging bridge.