Game on!
With the promotional video drop closing in, Nebula Games and IndieVibe rolled out their big guns.
Nebula struck first.
Day one, StarWolf Interactive led the charge. As their core studio, they set the stage—no question.
Day two, Radiant Studios stepped up. Their Spec Ops: Green, a second-gen FPS, targeted the battle royale crowd, gunning for PUBG's slice of the pie.
Day three? Zenith Studios. Their Swarm 2100, a single-player sci-fi FPS, mixed story-driven plot with multiplayer modes, aiming to dominate the IndieVibe X2 cabin market.
Three heavy hitters, locked and loaded.
Word hit Victor Lang fast.
No surprise—everyone's got spies in this game.
Nebula didn't even bother hiding their plan. All three Polar Bear 3 titles were FPS, so order was just flexing.
Their goal? Exploit the FPS genre's edge in somatosensory cabins, snatching the next-gen market in one swoop. Trading FPS for sports and racing seemed like a two-for-one, but Nebula wasn't sweating it. FPS games owned the cabin market, nearly matching sports and racing combined.
Victor called an emergency exec meeting at IndieVibe's Portland HQ.
After a heated vote, their lineup was set:
Round one, Fury Games dropped an off-road rally racer, locking down the racing market with rock-solid quality.
Round two, NeoSpark brought a football game, cross-genre support for IndieVibe X2.
And the finale? WindyPeak Games.
If this were a concert, WindyPeak was the headliner, the big closer.
But this ain't a show.
In this market grab, early drops hog the spotlight.
WindyPeak's last slot? A clear signal—they were the underdog, cannon fodder for IndieVibe's FPS push.
The media pounced:
Tate's Gaming Scoop: IndieVibe puts WindyPeak last—message received loud and clear.
GameHub: Last place! WindyPeak's just a warm body in this escort mission.
Global Esports: A fig leaf for IndieVibe's FPS gap? Nah, WindyPeak's too small for that.
MiniPlay: CatRiser's golden age fading?
Gamers' Hearth: Mecha theme and tiny budget—why's WindyPeak even here?
MFGA's done, and the second-gen FPS king is about to crash.
Reports flew, most torching WindyPeak.
Some outlets gave Gus Harper and Zoey Parker a fair shake, but the majority leaned Nebula, slamming WindyPeak's mecha gamble.
IndieVibe didn't sit quiet. They unleashed their own troll army, clapping back:
StarWolf? Stiff, outdated.
Radiant? Copycat bullies ripping off PUBG.
Zenith? Backstabbing has-beens.
Business wars ain't movie scripts. Forget grand plots—it's troll armies, poaching devs, unplugging servers, wilting office plants, or spiking the koi tank with hot sauce.
No strategy beats flipping the power switch mid-crunch.
Both sides traded blows, hyping the end-of-month clash.
Round one: StarWolf vs. Fury Games.
Both brought A-game. StarWolf's first-gen FPS packed new modes: arms race from the Asian Games, a zombie infection mode, and a PVE level inspired by Wes Mason's Dead Walkers MOD.
Fury's off-road rally racer had it all: career mode, quick races, multiplayer, track unlocks, car mods, cup championships. They partnered with real car brands for authentic models, leveling up the pro feel.
Day one, they split the hype 50-50. Solid start, expected.
Round two? That's where it got messy.
Blame Gus Harper.
His second-gen FPS and PUBG's battle royale set the bar too damn high.
Radiant's Spec Ops: Green? A PUBG clone, down to the mode. Only twist? Bullets draw green blood, and "kills" are "eliminations." Dead enemies wave, drop a box like they're prepping their own urn. Outrageous, but it sidesteps PUBG's 16+ rating for all-ages play.
NeoSpark's football game couldn't keep up. Score: 63-37, Nebula's favor.
Victor Lang stared at PacificTech's popularity report in Portland:
"Internal and external heat's killing us…"
PacificTech's big data, cold and authoritative, showed IndieVibe trailing by 26 points.
FPS ruled the cabin market, and Nebula was eating their lunch.
Victor had banked on Zenith Studios to flip the script, but Zenith jumped ship to Nebula. Ouch.
Barring a miracle, IndieVibe was toast in round one.
The media called it: WindyPeak was DOA, and IndieVibe X2 was set to flop.
Some outlets quipped: Some folks are dead; they're just waiting for the funeral.
Then, 8 p.m., the videos dropped.
"Thanks for the sub, A-Train!" Daisy Mae called out in her Twitch stream.
"Big ups to Granny for the bits!"
"Shoutout to me and Northside Zoe for the gifted subs!"
"Thanks for the subs and bits, bosses. Mods, ban those clowns I just named."
Daisy Mae's stream, a mix of charm and chaos, lit up with question marks.
PUBG's success (566,894 copies, $55.55M revenue) launched her from nobody to 30M followers in four months, joining Muffin (900K views, 100K fans) as a Twitch titan.
Her goofy style and wild pranks fueled her rise, but she credited WindyPeak and PUBG. Without them, she'd still be grinding obscurity.
So, tonight, she skipped her usual PUBG squad, hitting IndieVibe's site first.
WindyPeak's Titanfall trailer was dropping, and she wanted to hype it.
The IndieVibe X2 war had her rooting for WindyPeak, the scrappy underdog against Nebula's giants, with a budget barely a tenth of Polar Bear 3's $3B–5B.
"Let's hold off on games," Daisy said:
"WindyPeak's new trailer's out. Let's check it. I'm pumped for their next banger."
The chat exploded:
"Nah, Zoey's tanking this one."
"Mecha's a bust from jump."
"WindyPeak's just filler for IndieVibe."
"Mission vibes, not passion."
"Screw WindyPeak, show Zenith's sci-fi shooter!"
"Zenith's always solid."
"Let's see Zenith first!"
Daisy grimaced. She'd heard the mecha shade, but damn, eight out of ten chatters were dunking on WindyPeak.
Nobody trashed Gus or Zoey—PUBG and Left 4 Dead 2 were too legit—but hope for Titanfall was dead.
Daisy squirmed. She wanted to boost Zoey, not Zenith, whose big-budget rep didn't need her help.
But chat demanded: "Show Zenith!"
"How about… we skip it? I'll grab my squad, start PUBG," Daisy tried, channeling Buddy Sparrow's dodge energy.
No dice. Chat flooded with "Unfollowed!"
Sighing, Daisy opened Nebula's site, praying Zenith's Swarm 2100 wouldn't outshine WindyPeak too bad. A sliver of edge, and she could hype Titanfall to repay PUBG's boost.
Nebula's homepage screamed money—flashy banners for Polar Bear 3's three FPS titles.
Today's unlock: Zenith's Swarm 2100.
The trailer went full-screen, Daisy's surround sound kicking in:
"I've asked myself, why are we here…"
"One hundred, three hundred, five hundred… the casualty list grows daily…"
But everyone knows…
Bang! Bang!
Gunfire cut in. A red rock wasteland swarmed with twig-like alien beasts.
Soldiers in heavy exoskeleton armor roared, unloading clips. Fire nets held back the horde.
Light sabers, exoskeletons, all-terrain tanks, mini-nukes—war engulfed the planet.
Spider monsters with jagged jaws, acid-spitting beetles, scythe-wielding mantises—every creature was a death sentence.
Gunfire, screams, and flames wove together.
The camera pulled back, revealing a massive human fleet closing in from space…
No way out.
Swarm 2100's plot was simple: In 2100, Earth Prime's resources tanked, sparking interstellar migration. The target planet's insect swarm was too deadly, so the protagonist's team had to nuke the core nest.
Twist? Two endings. One: wipe out the bugs, build humanity's home. Two: realize your "heroic" mission is a colonial massacre, leaving an open end.
Chat lost it:
"That exoskeleton's dope!"
"Bugs creep me out, my scalp's crawling."
"Zenith's storylines are unreal. This trailer's got me hyped."
"Friggin' epic!"
"I'm calling it: Swarm 2100 stomps all six escort games!"
"Seconded!"
"Nesting doll vibes!"
"This trailer's insane. Zoey's screwed."
"Exoskeletons fix mecha balance issues. Genius."
"Zenith kills it…"
Daisy's heart sank. Zenith, a veteran FPS studio, delivered flawless visuals and a killer story. Titanfall was cooked.
She just hoped Zoey's trailer didn't flop too hard.
Chat shifted to WindyPeak:
"Let's see Zoey and Sam's science project, lol."
"Post-Zenith, I'm curious about WindyPeak."
"Wanna see how far behind they are."
"Just for laughs."
"Gotta face the gap to catch up."
"Zoey's brave, don't dog her too hard."
"For PUBG's sake, go easy."
Daisy forced a grin:
"Alright, alright."
She opened IndieVibe's site:
"Look, just watch. Discuss, fine, but no shade or cursing, or I'm swinging the mod hammer."
IndieVibe's homepage popped off. A sunset banner showed a towering mecha, machine gun and rifle in hand—solid, heavy, a damn fortress. Its azure core glowed, staring into the distance.
Before it stood a fully armed warrior, helmet visor gleaming with the same azure light, gaze locked forward.
Chat froze.
Blood-red sunset, inky shadows.
Cold steel mecha and its pilot stood on a mountain, majestic and razor-sharp.
Just a poster, but the azure glow screamed connection—pilot and mecha, inseparable.
They were partners, not tools. The mecha, a firepower beast; the pilot, agile and cunning.
You're me with the big guns. I'm you with the smarts.
This was their story.
Its name?
Titanfall.