Ctesiphon

I didn't even saw that you had a Space game prototype!

Trully, you are a Team of one men. You can complete that game alone and there will be people playing it and loving it. Your engine allows dialogue trees, and your previous experience in writing events can create..., well..., cinematographic events!

You have the cheese and the knife in your hands to eat it.

Now, allow me to contribute to your project and, maybe, become a partner to you: 

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The Birth of the Lunar Constitution

The founding of the Moon, ironically, began like all others in human history: with a disagreement.

Not the kind settled by a handshake or a convenient treaty, but something craftier—a problem that made Earth’s leaders scratch their heads in perplexity.

It started when a few lunar colonies—some military, some scientific—decided, with the quiet resolve of a cheating spouse, that they would no longer obey the nations that had founded them.

To the governments of Earth, this was rebellion. And for rebellion, there were always two old remedies: cut the supplies or call in the good old brute force.

But the universe has a peculiar (or perhaps universal) taste for entropy. Among the colonists, there was a particular astronaut, one well-versed in what he called the historical geopolitical dialectics of rights formation—a dull academic title that, like all dull academic titles, concealed a dangerous kind of cunning. The kind that could slip through the cracks of circumstance.

On Earth, nations were bound by treaties, tangled in international agreements. If a lunar revolt brought together people from many countries, which government would dare bomb a colony with citizens of powerful rival nations? For the United States, attacking a base with North Koreans aboard was an act of war. And vice versa.

And so exactly that happened.

In a stroke of genius—or, for the skeptical, a stroke of sheer audacity—the expert in dialectics created the Moon. Not as a colony, but as a sovereign metropolis. And like every nation worth its name, it needed a document to legitimize its existence.

Thus, the Lunar Constitution was born—not out of some grand ideal of justice, nor the will of the people, but from the cold weight of geopolitics and the cunning of a man who knew how to play by the rules of his trade. Not the stuff of epic cinema, nor the dream of corporate pioneers, but a precise calculation—a political checkmate. A quiet reminder that, in the balance of power, the highest law is strategy.