A Game Dev Shared Her Prototype. It Was AI-Cloned in Under 5 Hours
Freya Holmer posted a clever Tetris variant on social media. Within hours, someone had vibecoded a knockoff. The incident captures everything wrong with the AI gold rush in game dev.
Freya Holmer was feeling stressed. So she did what game developers do. She made something.
On March 17, she posted a short clip of a prototype on Bluesky and X. “Been feeling kinda stressed lately so I made a little prototype,” she wrote. “Is this anything?”
It was something. The clip racked up over two million views on X and thousands of reposts on Bluesky. Tim Schafer, the creator of Psychonauts, praised it publicly. Players begged for a release. The internet loved it.
Then, four hours and thirty-nine minutes after Holmer’s original post, someone uploaded their own version. Built with AI coding tools. In under five hours.
The Prototype
The concept is deceptively simple. It is a falling-block puzzle game in the style of Tetris, but with a twist. Every time a piece locks into place, the entire playfield rotates 90 degrees toward whichever side the blocks landed on. Drop a piece to the left? The board tilts left. Stack to the right? It swings that way.
The result is a puzzle that demands spatial reasoning on top of the usual Tetris skills. You are no longer just thinking about where a piece fits. You are thinking about how that placement will reshape the entire board when gravity shifts. It is the kind of design idea that looks obvious in hindsight, which is exactly the mark of a good one.
Holmer had not even defined win or fail states yet. This was a raw prototype, shared openly with the community. She had no Steam page, no trailer, no marketing plan. Just a clever mechanic and a willingness to show her work.
The Clone
The person who cloned it described themselves as an “efficient novelty maxing generalist.” They used AI coding tools to recreate the core mechanic and posted the result publicly. Their commentary was revealing: “Someone showed a design of a rotating Tetris, and knowing how AI works and such, I was like, ‘okay, it’ll probably do something really interesting,’ and it did. So.”
They even claimed the clone “can be built into a game by tomorrow.”
The speed is the point. Not the quality. The clone, by all accounts, was rough. A surface-level imitation that captured the rotation gimmick without any of the design thinking behind it. But it existed. And it existed before Holmer even had a chance to set up a Steam page.
Holmer’s Response
Holmer did not mince words. “Someone already vibecoded (a bad clone of) this and shared it online because we live in the worst timeline,” she wrote on Bluesky.
In an interview with PC Gamer, she went deeper. “I’m a huge believer in putting intent and humanity into everything we create, and it’s genuinely depressing how quickly people can steal work.”
Her analogy is sharp: “It’s like posting a sketch of a drawing you made, and 20 people show up to finish the drawing for you and then boast.”
On motivation, she was conflicted. “It slightly increases my motivation only because I want to prove them wrong. But it severely increases my stress and feeling pressured to get my version out as soon as possible.”
And one quote that cuts to the core of the problem: “Luckily, these people are incapable of original thought and don’t know how to elevate this concept beyond what they’ve already seen.”
She also acknowledged the chilling effect on sharing creative work publicly. “It kinda disincentivizes me from sharing progress when there are slop ghouls around every corner, AI or otherwise.”
Who Is Freya Holmer
If you follow game development education, you probably know Freya Holmer. She created Shader Forge, the node-based shader editor that became the standard for visual shader creation in Unity before it was eventually open-sourced. She co-founded Neat Corporation, the studio behind the VR game Budget Cuts. She builds tools like Shapes, a GPU-based vector graphics library for Unity. Her YouTube channel is a treasure trove of beautifully visualized math tutorials covering splines, bezier curves, and shader techniques.
She is also a vocal critic of generative AI. In January 2025, she published a video essay titled “Generative AI is a Parasitic Cancer” that laid out her position in detail. This was not someone caught off guard by the discourse. She has been thinking about it, publicly, for over a year.
That context matters. When Holmer shares a prototype, she is not throwing a half-baked idea into the void. She is a skilled developer with deep technical knowledge showing her creative process. The people who cloned her work did not replicate her skill. They replicated a surface-level output.
The Vibe Coding Problem
The term vibe coding was coined by Andrej Karpathy, co-founder of OpenAI, in February 2025. He described it as “a new kind of coding where you fully give in to the vibes, embrace exponentials, and forget that the code even exists.” Merriam-Webster has since added the term to its database.
In the context of game development, vibe coding means using AI tools to generate functional code from descriptions or examples. It can be a useful prototyping tool. But when it is used to clone someone else’s published idea within hours, it becomes something else entirely.
This is not an isolated incident. In January 2026, the indie co-op horror game Haunted Paws by studio Lazy Flock was cloned as “Ghostly Whiskers” with AI-generated assets and listed on the PlayStation Store before the original game was even finished. Sony eventually delisted it.
For indie developers who rely on sharing their work publicly to build wishlists and community support, this creates a grim calculation. The very visibility that makes indie marketing work also makes you a target.
What This Means
The incident crystallizes a tension that every indie developer now has to reckon with. Sharing your work openly has always been a cornerstone of the indie community. Screenshot Saturday, devlogs, demo releases, GDC talks. Openness is how indie games find their audience.
But if every shared prototype can be cloned in hours, the incentive structure breaks. Developers either stop sharing or race to establish ownership before the copycats arrive. Neither outcome is good for the community.
Holmer is now scrambling to set up a Steam page to stake her claim on the rotating Tetris concept. She should not have to. The fact that she does tells you everything about where we are.
The good news, if you can call it that, is that clones are hollow. They capture mechanics but not design intent. They replicate surfaces but not the thinking underneath. Holmer put it best: the people who clone this way are “incapable of original thought.” They can copy what exists. They cannot imagine what comes next.
That is still cold comfort when your creative work gets strip-mined within minutes of sharing it. But it is a reason to keep sharing anyway.
Written by
Florian HuetiOS dev by day, indie game dev by night. Trying to give life to GameDō Studio.
Building games and talking about the ones I can't stop playing.