Compiled, But Never Called
Somewhere in Tiberian Sun's executable there is a function that does exactly what you'd want it to do if you were trying to find out whether the Firestorm expansion is installed. It checks for one of Firestorm's files, and it hands back yes or no. It has the shape of an answer.
Nothing in an unmodified game ever calls it.
That turned out to be the shape of practically everything this week. A campaign's win screen quietly picks between three endings depending on the order two flags get checked, not the order you'd guess. A weather event's own settings ship almost entirely switched off in the retail data — present, but functionally dormant. Code built for one purpose gets recompiled, unrenamed, into a completely different one. A tracking script we wrote ourselves was quietly hiding more than half of our own finished work from the backlog it reported. That Firestorm-detection question really does have an answer — just not the one the perfectly-named function seemed to promise. A wall we'd already reverse-engineered down to a tidy, four-function port contract turned out to have a second, undocumented way of killing you. A tool we were about to build, to read the game's sealed data archives, had already been finished months ago and forgotten. And a burrowing-unit mechanic that everyone including us assumed was Tiberian Sun's alone is sitting fully alive in both sequels, which simply never shipped a unit that uses it.
One thread runs under all of it: the plausible-looking thing — a name, a flag, a summary, a task description, our own inventory of our own work — is not always the thing actually running, and the only way to tell is to read the raw instructions instead of the label.