A couple days ago was… maddening.

I’d been wrestling with the same bug for days—the kind that sits in your code like a smug little goblin, daring you to come find it. Every time I thought I had it cornered—poof—it would slip away into another layer of logic.

The problem sounded simple enough: combat is simultaneous. Even if a ship gets destroyed, it should still get to fire its weapon that turn. But the UI shouldn’t mark it as destroyed until after all attacks are resolved.

Except in my game, ships weren’t showing their dramatic “destroyed” flair until the start of the next turn. By then, the moment was gone. It was like telling a joke and waiting five minutes for the punchline to land.

I threw everything at it:

• The “outside consultant” trick—pretending Claude was a hired expert swooping in to save the day.
• The “you’re a zookeeper” trick. (Don’t ask.)
• Breaking the workflow into phases.
• Having Claude explain the code back to me.
• Running the debugger subagent.
• Asking it to think hard… harder… ultra-think.
• Asking Claude to improve my prompt.
• Diagramming the problem like a detective on a conspiracy board.
• Adding a ton of debug logs.
• Even pulling in ChatGPT to craft a better Claude prompt.
• Describing the issue in painstaking detail—right down to which variables changed on which frame.

Nothing. Worked.

And this wasn’t even a crash bug—the game ran fine. It was just wrong. The kind of subtle pacing flaw that players might not notice consciously, but would feel in their bones. The kind that makes everything feel just slightly “off.”

By about hour six that day, I was leaning back in my chair, staring at my code, wondering if the bug was less about the project and more about me.

Then—somewhere between frustration and surrender—I tried one more approach. Nothing special about it. No perfect galaxy-brain prompt. Just another attempt in a long line of attempts. And this time… it worked. The ships died exactly when they were supposed to, the UI updated cleanly, and the combat flow finally felt right.

I’d love to tell you it was some brilliant debugging insight or the magic words that unlocked Claude’s genius. But it wasn’t. It was just the luck of the dice—one more roll, one more try, and this time it came up in my favor.