What’s Behind the Pixels?
Pix_Fix comics for spotting the next move
Homo Inertia

Editor Carp Chonk

© Homo Inertia, 2026

ISBN 978-5-0070-7190-1

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Has this happened?

Take a break.

Just five more minutes.

Join quick.

We’re already there.

Just a video. A new round. A funny message. Everything looked ordinary.

But Pix_Fix started noticing something.

After what seemed like an ending, something still kept going.

And it kept going in different ways.

That is where it all began.

# Next

Yesterday Pix_Fix spotted Spinner in videos. Then he met Spinner somewhere with no videos at all.

A short game round ended. On the screen, one button was waiting:

Play again

Nothing strange. It was just easier to reach than Exit.

Then someone sent a picture in a chat. Under it, there was another one. Then another. There were almost no words, but something still kept going.

Spinner does not seem to stay in one app for long. He appears wherever an ending has only just shown up — and the next thing is already waiting.

Sometimes Spinner really helps. The next thing can bring something good: a laugh, a mood, a line you want to repeat, a picture you want to show someone, a tiny feeling of:

oh, that’s me.

And that is real too. Then Spinner is not pulling you in. He is just passing the spark along.

But sometimes it goes differently. The next thing stops bringing something new. It only leads to another. Then another. Then another.

After a while, it gets hard to remember what you wanted in the first place: to laugh, to rest, to find something, to send something to a friend.

All that’s left is…

next.

Not because someone forced you. Just because «next» became too easy.

Pix_Fix does not ask whether Spinner is good or bad. That is not his kind of question.

He asks something smaller:

Do I really want to keep going —

or am I just on autopilot?

# Almost

After meeting Grinder, Pix_Fix started spotting «almost» in other places.

A collection was missing one star. A daily streak was one day away from a badge. A download was almost complete. A progress bar stopped just before the end. In a rewards list, one empty square was waiting at the very edge.

Each time, it looked different. But inside, it sounded the same:

almost.

«Almost» has a strange power. The missing piece can start to look bigger than the reason you began.

Sometimes Grinder really helps. A skill that is almost learned gets one more try. A level that is almost cleared gets finished. A build that is almost done gets its roof.

Then the ending is not a trap. It is a result. You can breathe out and say:

I did it.

But sometimes it goes differently.

You do not really want to play anymore, but the little empty piece is still glowing.

You claim the reward — and a new bar appears beside it.

You fill one empty square — and the next one opens.

And each time it feels like:

now it’s almost done.

The game is still there. But the unfinished part has become louder.

All that’s left is…

one more push.

Not because the game is still interesting. Just because «almost» became too important.

Pix_Fix does not try to defeat Grinder.

He only asks:

Am I finishing this because I still want to —

or just because it’s almost finished?

# Keep Building

At first, it was a strange house. The stairs were on the side. A bridge went nowhere. A window sat above the door, and through it you could look at the clouds.

It was not the straightest house. But it was his.

Then another build opened on the screen. Big, symmetrical, with towers, a glass roof, and a clear front door.

After that, his own house started to look different.

Nothing was wrong. But the shape kept revealing one more place to build.

The stairs seemed to need one more piece. The bridge could land somewhere. The window looked like it could move. Even the secret passage — the part he liked most — started asking for a change.