In part one of our epic, 20 teams of Australian pro and amateur game developers began their 48 hour "game jam" at the Queensland University of Technology, battling to create a full game based on three keywords: Badger. Key. Suit. We sent our correspondent to document the crazy event. In part two of three, he has just awoken on Saturday morning after a couple hours sleep.

Saturday morning, 5:00am

I sit up groggily and look around through blurred eyes. The room has sunk into an almost peaceful silence. Outside, the sky glows with a deep orange. Mounds of sleeping bags have popped up in the free areas; many more jut out from under desks. An artist has draped a blanket over two chairs to shade his eyes from the light. Someone sleeps stretched out across five chairs.

Day two has begun.

Rockin' Moses has more people under its workspace than at it. Matchbox Battery is out of commission, with no one left awake to be James's alarm clock except Isaac and Brendan—who aren't working, but watching anime. Lone developer Ash is nowhere to be seen. His earphones hang over his monitor and his tablet lies beneath the still-open notepad, sketches of level designs and badger animations scrawled on the pages like Portal graffiti.

But most teams are still working with a skeleton crew. Well Placed Cactus is down to three people, but Nick, Tyson, and Chris are still working diligently at their badgers-as-bullets-from-an-airplane game. Nick has started on the terrain while Chris has tweaked the controls and camera further so that the HUD changes as you zoom in. They have various "types" of badgers now, too: fast ones that fly automatically and slower ones that can be controlled manually as the camera follows them to the ground. "You use the fast ones to take out the artillery so then you can maneuver the slow ones in to hit the targets," Chris explains. The models aren't finished yet, however, and Paul is asleep in the corner.

The pro room is deserted, save two For Science! programmers still at their computers and Milenko, asleep under his sketchpad in what looks to be a reclining poolside chair. The rest sleep downstairs around the lecture halls where the security guard kicked out the indies hours earlier. Each is perfectly positioned under stairs and behind tables to be shaded from the encroaching sunlight for as long as possible.

The kitchen is an absolute mess. Instant noodle packets, bread, and dirty cutlery are scattered everywhere. I look at a half-eaten, soggy cup of noodles and realize that this is a low I am not quite ready to stoop to yet. Instead I make a cup of tea and head back outside to watch the sunrise.

"Oh god! Sunlight! No way!" Rocco from Rockin' Moses has just stumbled out of the indie room in utter disbelief. "That is the last thing I wanted to see," he says.

6:30am

The number of sleeping bodies has actually increased. I try to get to the Well Placed Cactus table at the far end, where artist Kai is the only one still awake. I have to walk around three sides of the room to get to her without stepping on anyone. Few of those still awake are actually working on their games; some are playing League of Legends, others are just gazing at their desktops.

Kai is still sketching up concept art. "Have you slept yet?" I ask. She shakes her head. Her eyes look about as heavy as mine feel.

"Are... there usually this many bodies?" I say, reaching deep to make conversation.

"I don't know," she says. "This is my first year."

"Right. Right."

I'm out. My brain is frizzled.

Another contestant has opened the door and been exposed to the world beyond. "Sunlight," he says dully. Across from my desk, a nyan cat alarm goes off and an Elliot-shaped lump arises from a sleeping bag, sits down at his computer, and continues animating a badger's knocked-out animation as though he never stopped.

7:00am

In the bathroom, I splash water on my face and brush a revolting layer of Coke and energy drink from my teeth.

The sun is up properly now as I step outside. This natural world feels entirely disconnected from the timeless rooms inside where devs are still sleeping, still coding, still yawning, still eating two-minute noodles. And they have 33 hours left to go.

In this strange outer world beyond the sun-blocking curtains, perpetual overhead lighting, and whatever-that-smell-is, it is Saturday, and I have a Real Job to work at in a cafe several suburbs away. I'll be gone for about five hours, just long enough for the teams to make some real progress.

As I step away from the university and walk towards the bus stop, I pass through Kelvin Grove's "Urban Village"—essentially an inner-city residential zone for yuppies. The Saturday morning markets are setting up. Early risers already make the rounds, buying fresh produce and bread. I stagger through it all like a victim of extreme culture shock. I look over my shoulder at the tower that is Z-block still rising behind me and try to comprehend that behind those blackened windows in that silver tower, 120 bodies are still developing and coding their badgers, suits, and keys.

For the next few hours I make coffee for soccer moms and dads, cyclists, and general weekenders. One woman, a regular of mine, tells me how tired I look. She asks if it's because of the thesis I have due so dauntingly soon. I shake my head and briefly explain the 48 hour game competition while I froth her milk.

"So you are on one of the teams?" she asks.

"Oh, no!" I laugh. "I couldn't create a game to save my life. I'm just writing about it."

She looks confused. "So why do you have to be there the whole time? Shouldn't you be working on your thesis?"

I don't have a good answer. I think about the question as I make myself yet another double-shot flat white (my third since the shift started). Why will I rush back as soon as my shift is over? Torture myself for yet another night just to watch these other people torture themselves? But maybe they aren't insane. Maybe there's something deeply human in wanting to push yourself to the edge just to create something new and beautiful—and to witness it happening. Or maybe I'm just insane, too.

When my shift is over, I stumble home for a shower, a clean T-shirt, and a lift back to that other world.