Aleha_84

On indiegames.wtf I usually interview game developers, so this conversation may feel a little unusual at first. Aleha_84 is not exactly here to talk about a released game, a studio, or a production pipeline. But I fell so deeply in love with his animated pixel art worlds, and I find in them so much contemporary inspiration for game development, that I decided to step slightly outside the usual format.

His scenes feel like places you can almost enter: quiet rooms, lit windows, snow, rain, streets, cars, empty spaces full of human presence. They are not games, or at least not yet, but they already contain many of the things I look for in games: atmosphere, rhythm, silence, memory, and a sense of world.

Let’s start from the beginning: who are you, and how did you end up creating these quiet animated pixel art worlds? What usually comes first for you: a place, a memory, a mood, or simply the need to draw?

I am a software engineer by profession, but art has become my second language. My journey into pixel art wasn’t just about drawing; originally, I dreamed of making games. However, those dreams hit a wall of reality when I realized that a captivating, beautiful visual is what truly matters first. I understood that the viewer doesn’t care about the complex code hidden behind the screen if the image doesn’t pull them in. So, I started building my own game engine because it was technically interesting, and then I began using that very engine as a foundation to create these visual scenes.

Editor note: This piece has been a huge inspiration for our game, Kernelbay.
Thank you Aleha_84!

For me, the mood almost always comes first. It’s usually a feeling of ‘cozy melancholy’ — that moment when you are alone, watching the rain or snow through a window, feeling both isolated and deeply connected to the space around you.

Your scenes often feel like they are waiting for something, as if the main event happened just before or will happen just after the image. Is that something you consciously look for when creating a scene?

I wouldn’t say I consciously aim for that, but the result certainly feels that way. It’s like moments caught from a kaleidoscope of events and frozen in an eternal loop. This is exactly why I only create looped scenes — they are meant to be watched endlessly.

I have always been fascinated by the concept of ’liminal spaces’ — places that feel like a threshold between ‘what was’ and ‘what will be.’ When a scene is too busy or the action is too explicit, it leaves no room for the viewer’s imagination. By capturing these quiet, frozen moments, I allow the viewer to fill in the blanks themselves.

You told me that you use software written by yourself. Why did you decide to build your own tools instead of relying only on existing pixel art or animation software?

It all started with a custom engine. I built it because I was fascinated by how graphics work in a browser. This was around the time HTML5 and its powerful Canvas element emerged, which, in my view, opened up endless possibilities. Initially, I tried using assets downloaded from the internet, but it was incredibly inconvenient and clunky. Everything felt rigid; I had to constantly adapt to the assets rather than the other way around. I didn’t even look at professional image or animation software back then because I was completely absorbed by the potential of creating graphics within the engine itself.

Generative graphics are deeply captivating. My own software gradually grew out of this interest. It’s a specialized editor that allows me to work with images in layers. While it’s constantly evolving with new features, it remains very specific. Its main difference from standard software is the output: instead of a traditional raster file, it produces data—precise information about coordinates, colors, fills, and connections. In the end, one project naturally gave birth to the other.

When an artist writes their own software, the tool becomes part of the style. Do you feel that your software is just a way to make the work faster, or is it actually part of the artistic language of your animations?

At first, it was simply a way to create anything at all. I was just happy to see points moving across the screen at the command of my code. Later, I started testing the engine’s limits by trying to bring scenes to life. I would take a photograph I liked, redraw it manually pixel-by-pixel from scratch, and then try to animate it. Since I already had all the data about every point, I could manipulate that information however I wanted.

This is where algorithms came to the rescue. I came up with some myself, while others I found on Stack Overflow (rest in peace, amen) and specialized forums. It provided a massive boost in speed—developing ‘helpers’ and automated processes allowed me to manipulate tens of thousands of particles at 60 FPS.

Gradually, this technical process evolved into a style. It truly became the artistic language through which I express my vision. But I’m not stopping there; I’m constantly looking for new algorithms to automate routine manual tasks or finding ways to optimize the performance of the engine as a whole. The tool and the style are now inseparable.

Many of your works have no central character, but they are full of human presence: lit windows, parked cars, empty rooms, distant streets. Is leaving people outside the frame a way to give more space to the viewer?

From a technical standpoint, drawing a realistic human figure in pixels is incredibly challenging. Stylized or cartoonish characters simply don’t fit my realistic art style, so I often intentionally avoid them to maintain the visual integrity of the scene.

You are also working on a game connected to your pixel art worlds. What kind of game is it, and what made you want to turn these animated scenes into something interactive?

Yes, I started working on a demo a couple of weeks ago. The plan is to create four scenes connected by simple logical chains. It’s going to be a visual novel-style game where the player moves between screens featuring my animations, with the ability to interact with each scene. My goal is to ensure that players can ‘get lost’ in each location, just as they do with my standalone animations.

Working solo without any external (and internal) support is such a massive, often thankless task. I’m doing this primarily for myself — because it’s something I’ve always aspired to do — without any real expectations of profit. Since each of my scenes is already a ‘micro-program’ at its core, connecting them into an interactive chain feels like a natural evolution of what I’ve already built. Meanwhile, I continue to post these scenes on social media to appease the ‘algorithm gods’; otherwise, they might get angry and slash my reach!

Truthfully, I haven’t come up with a solid plot or story yet — just some rough sketches. I’m not much of a storyteller, to be honest. There’s still so much to do: creating intermediate graphics, finding royalty-free music, and spending countless hours on optimization and UI. And that’s not even mentioning the publishing side; I’m not even thinking about Steam at this point.

Is there a way for people to support a “behind-the-scenes” developer and artist like you, and where can they find more of your worlds?

You can find all my social media links and platforms here: https://hipolink.net/aleha_84. As for support, I have pages on Boosty, Lava, and Hipolink, though I don’t have high expectations. I’m not a ‘cosplay girl’ and I don’t show my face on Twitch — I’m just a guy coding and drawing in his room.

This whole project was born from a place of pure sincerity, driven by genuine emotions and a love for the craft. For me, the idea of making a living solely through art feels like an ‘unaffordable dream,’ as creative work often doesn’t pay the bills. I do it because I have to. However, every bit of support — whether it’s a subscription or just a kind word — helps me keep these worlds alive and moving. It’s the energy that keeps the ’eternal loops’ spinning.