What went wrong
How "free" got so expensive.
The trick was never the price. It was teaching a billion people that a game is something you rent from a psychologist, not something you own.
The download is free, so you install it. Then the game starts working on you. An energy meter empties, so you wait — or pay to skip the wait. A limited-time offer blinks red for the next four hours. A wall appears that you could grind past in a fortnight, or clear tonight for $19.99. None of it is an accident. Every timer, every bundle, every "you're so close!" popup was A/B tested against your patience until it won.
The people who spend the most aren't called customers. They're called whales, and entire games are balanced around finding them and bleeding them. Everyone else is the free scenery that makes the whale feel like they're in a real world. Meanwhile the game watches everything you do — every tap, every session, every hesitation — and quietly sells that trail to data brokers you've never heard of.
We've all been trained to accept this. To shrug at loot boxes aimed at kids, at ads that interrupt the thing you opened the ad-riddled app to escape, at "seasons" that reset your progress so you'll re-buy it. It's normal now. That's exactly the problem. A game should be a thing you get to enjoy — not a subscription to your own boredom.