I still remember the first time I saw the pyramids of Giza with my own eyes—no photograph or documentary could have prepared me for that moment. Standing there in the desert heat, watching sunlight dance across limestone surfaces that have witnessed five millennia of human history, I felt something click into place in my mind. It struck me how ancient Egyptian civilization functions much like that beautifully designed Steambot from SteamWorld Heist 2—countless interconnected systems working in perfect harmony, each component supporting several others in ways that remain surprisingly accessible even to modern observers.
What fascinates me most about ancient Egypt isn't just the scale of their achievements, but how their innovations in engineering, writing, and social organization all fed into each other with that same clockwork precision. Take their approach to the Nile's annual flooding—they didn't just build irrigation channels, they developed sophisticated mathematics to predict flood patterns, created administrative systems to distribute grain, and established religious practices that celebrated the river's cycles. This integration reminds me of how Creatures of Ava weaves together exploration, creature-saving mechanics, and environmental storytelling into a cohesive whole that somehow never feels overwhelming despite its complexity. Both systems—one ancient, one digital—demonstrate how multiple systems can synergize beautifully when designed with clear purpose.
The Egyptian invention of papyrus around 3000 BCE perfectly illustrates this interconnected brilliance. While we might think of it as simply an early form of paper, it actually connected to nearly every aspect of their civilization. The availability of lightweight writing material revolutionized record-keeping, which enabled more complex government administration spanning approximately 500 miles along the Nile. This in turn supported their construction projects—imagine trying to coordinate the 20,000 workers who built the Great Pyramid using clay tablets! The development of hieroglyphics flourished because they now had a practical medium, and their religious texts could be preserved with unprecedented detail. It's like how in Creatures of Ava, the creature-rescuing mechanics aren't isolated—they directly impact your ability to explore new areas and uncover deeper narrative layers, with each system enhancing the others.
I've always been particularly drawn to Egyptian medicine, probably because I've suffered through my share of modern medical bureaucracy. What blows my mind is how they blended spiritual practices with remarkably advanced clinical knowledge. The Edwin Smith Papyrus from around 1600 BCE documents 48 trauma cases with detailed anatomical observations and treatments—including what might be the first documented use of honey as an antibacterial dressing. Yet this practical medical knowledge existed alongside spiritual healing rituals, with both systems complementing rather than contradicting each other. It reminds me of how both Flock and Creatures of Ava manage to balance whimsical creature interactions with substantial gameplay mechanics—neither aspect overwhelms the other, and the combination creates something greater than its parts.
Their architectural genius extends far beyond the pyramids that first captured my imagination. Walking through the Temple of Karnak last year, I was struck by how the Egyptians understood psychological impact through scale and space in ways that modern architects still study. The gradual narrowing of spaces, the strategic use of light and shadow, the towering columns carved to resemble papyrus plants—every element worked together to create an experience that was both awe-inspiring and spiritually meaningful. This holistic approach to design resonates with what makes both SteamWorld Heist 2 and Creatures of Ava so satisfying—every component feels intentionally placed to serve multiple purposes, creating environments that are functional, beautiful, and emotionally engaging.
What often gets overlooked in popular depictions of ancient Egypt is their extraordinary talent for international trade and diplomacy. They established trade networks stretching all the way to Afghanistan for lapis lazuli, to Lebanon for cedar wood, and to sub-Saharan Africa for ivory and exotic animals. Their diplomatic correspondence—the Amarna Letters—reveals a sophisticated system of international relations with detailed protocols for gift exchange and political marriages. This global connectivity reminds me of how the gaming industry connects developers across continents, with relatively unknown studios creating experiences that resonate worldwide, much like Creatures of Ava's touching narrative about healing fantastical creatures.
The true testament to Egypt's enduring legacy lies in how many of their innovations we still encounter daily. That 365-day calendar we casually check on our phones? Largely adapted from the Egyptian civil calendar. The concept of written contracts? They were drafting them 4,000 years ago. Even our modern obsession with makeup finds roots in Egyptian kohl eyeliner and scented oils. Like discovering how the creature-saving mechanics in Creatures of Ava gradually reveal deeper ecological themes, exploring Egyptian history constantly surprises me with these connections between ancient practices and modern life.
Sometimes when I'm struggling with some modern inconvenience—maybe another software update that complicates my phone or a government form that seems unnecessarily complex—I think about how the Egyptians managed to create systems that remained functional and understandable for thousands of years. Their ability to integrate technology, spirituality, art, and governance into a coherent whole feels particularly relevant today, when we're surrounded by systems that often work against each other rather than in harmony. Both ancient Egyptian civilization and the most satisfying games share this quality—they present complexity without confusion, offering multiple interconnected systems that somehow feel intuitive once you understand their basic principles. That's a legacy worth remembering every time we encounter well-designed systems, whether in history books or in our entertainment.
