Digital America interviewed Liv Duke in April 2026 on their work Anthophrenor Alpha.
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Digital America: As I experienced the piece, I wondered if the hyperlinks are a navigational feature implemented by the designers of synthetic mycelium, or if they’re hallucinations of a collective consciousness conditioned by ease-of-access and the fear of uncertainty. What significance does hypertext hold to you, and how is this communicated to the player through their use?
Liv Duke: In 2108, there’s only theories as to how retrocognitive investigations work on a scientific level. The hyperlinks are access points to memory fragments discovered within the mindspace. Anthophrenors focus on these fragments to make connections and identify clues, guiding them to the next fragment. The act of clicking a hyperlink simulates this process for the player. The hypertext structure serves as a digital representation of the mindspace. I want the player to draw their own conclusions about what is really part of the past and what may be a hallucination experienced by anthophrenors. Right now, the hyperlinks appear as it would typically on a webpage. For the next prototype, I want them to feel more subtle, resembling handwriting or ghostly apparitions of text. I aim to heighten the mystery by designing less direct navigation and requiring interaction to unlock certain hyperlinks. I want to fully immerse the player in the experience. I have been asked why I don’t consider creating this in VR or as a downloadable PC game. The answer is simple: player equity. I want this experience to be accessible to everyone, even those without a VR headset or high-end graphics card. I believe impactful games can still be made without advanced software and equipment. I am committed to keeping this as a web-based hypertext game.
DigA: Does the jarring, dream-like, often threatening nature of the in-game setting reflect the external state of affairs? What did you mean to convey about this future world through atmosphere?
LD: I am not particularly intentional about embedding specific themes within my work. Instead, I allow them to emerge subconsciously, as I believe this is the best way to write a good story. However, in the design of the game, I was very attentive with the multimodality, understanding that this would impact meaning-making for the player. The past is deteriorating in the mindspace and this can be seen and heard through the entire experience. In the text and images, there is evidence that the world has made significant achievements in developing environmentally positive technology, primarily through bioengineering. Miles encounters a past communication from a suspect who claims to have invented craftsworms, a type of biologically modified silkworm used in skyscraper construction. And, of course, there is the use of pseudomycelia in the Denkirhiza meganode and implants. However, it is also clear that some level of societal instability persists, as fragments of information about a crime and drug epidemic appear throughout the hypertext game. I am critical of the utopianism that is embedded in some fictional visions of ecological and technological progress. People have always been people, and they will continue to be. I am interested in fictional storytelling that captures the drama of the human condition. I also don’t approach stories through the standards of any single science fiction subgenre. I find it more engaging to break the conventions of solarpunk, cyberpunk, biopunk, and any other “punk” categories. In a writing workshop, someone referred to my work as “psychopunk” because I’m very detailed in describing characters’ personal lives and how they are intertwined with technology. However, I try not to categorize Anthophrenor Alpha or any of my writing too harshly. I generally describe this hypertext game as a science fiction mystery.
DigA: The use of mycelium as a frontier advancement within Anthophrenor Alpha was particularly intriguing to me, considering its network-like nature. I found myself questioning whether this technology threatened the fabric of some existing surveillance state, or if authoritative figures were inspired by its design and shaped the populus in its image. In what direction do you imagine society moving as a collective?
LD: The pseudomycelium implant was originally invented by the Denkirhiza Corporation as a brain-computer interface intended for use with their meganodes. Retrocognition was an accidental discovery during experimental trials. With concerns around crime in Unified America, they quickly realized just how lucrative this capability could be. As a result, they cancelled the mass-market release and began a high-level operation through a select few private police organizations, including River City Private Investigations. This technology could help improve safety in Unified America overall, but Denkirhiza Corporation is mostly focused on profit. That is why it is kept as a high-priced, tightly controlled asset. Their target audience consists of wealthy families who can afford private investigations. We are no strangers to this kind of behavior from those in positions of power within the tech and medical industries. I think society is moving toward greater exclusivity and a class division in access to life-changing innovations.
DigA: How do you approach the notion that more information leads to more prosperity? At what point might we know “enough” before additional data transfer blurs the line between ignorance and hyperactive neurosis? How does this manifest in Anthophrenor Alpha?
LD: The characters have a unique experience of time and knowledge of the past, even if they aren’t an anthophrenor. Scarlett is referred to as “timesick” by one of the suspects identified in the mindspace. It’s a slang term for someone who yearns for an era that they have never experienced yet know much about. Perhaps the pseudomycelium implant in this story is not only a symbol of the struggle to merge flesh and machine, but also of the conflicting human desire to return to nature while, at the same time, reaching for a high-tech future. In the real world, we are still fairly new to this kind of unending access to knowledge. It is difficult to say what is “enough” right now but it definitely feels overwhelming and like we have gone too far. I think we are beginning to see how it can lead to ambiguity and can sometimes cause a collapse in meaning. This is a pressing question that is currently taking shape in the story, and I hope to arrive at a more defined understanding when it is complete.
DigA: What direction will your future/in-progress works take, such as FaceCTRL (2026) and Body as a Votive (2026)?
LD: Those two unreleased works are time-based media. They involve machinima animation using similar Three.js techniques that I implemented in the Anthophrenor Alpha prototype. In both of them, I am exploring themes of self-image, body, artificial intelligence, and transhumanism, allowing my personal thoughts and ideas to emerge naturally through the design of the visuals and audio. I have been treating these works as little playgrounds for when I am not writing or programming for Anthophrenor Alpha. They will probably evolve significantly over the next few months. As I grow older, I find myself most comfortable with writing. Most of my creative energy is now reserved for long-form storytelling rather than conceptual expression. I can see much of my future work taking the form of novellas, novels, and story-based games. Creating characters and building worlds is incredibly euphoric for me.
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Check out Liv Duke’s work Anthophrenor Alpha.
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Liv Duke is a writer and new media artist who mostly works with experimental storytelling and video art. In 2020, she received a BFA in Kinetic Imaging from Virginia Commonwealth University and later earned an MS in Digital Media from Drexel University. She is currently working towards an MA in Creative Writing at The Open University, specializing in fiction.
