Twenty-five tracks. No samples, no library music, no recordings.
Every note in both SparkOne games is synthesized on our own hardware from a seed.
A track is not a file somebody made and checked in — it is a declaration in a manifest (a mode, a
tempo, a role) rendered by a Csound-based instrument bank into an .ogg. Change the
seed and you get a different take of the same brief; keep it and the track is reproducible
forever.
That matters more than it sounds. A game with 22 licensed tracks has 22 immovable objects in it. A game whose music is declared can have its tempo raised, its mode swapped from bright to tense, or a whole new cue added, in the time it takes to edit one line — and the same pipeline renders the sound effects and the character voices too.
The arena grew a soundtrack rotation: a cue is a job, and several tracks can hold the same job. The desert drive alone rotates four ways, from a UN Squadron homage to a psychedelic acid storm. This list is read live from the game's own music manifest, so a re-render in the game shows up here the moment it deploys.
Why the modes are listed. The PetWars cues name a musical mode because the generator picks one deliberately: ionian for the bright, unbothered screens, lydian for anticipation (the ladder, the pack tearing open), mixolydian where something is at stake. It is the cheapest possible way to make a soundtrack agree with what is on screen, and it costs one word in a manifest.
Tracks made with the same pipeline that do not belong to anything — no cue, no rotation, no state machine asking for them. The generator does not care whether there is a game on the other end, and it turns out a good deal of what it learned building soundtracks transfers straight to writing a song.