"Let's roll, Sam, Happy New Year!" Jake Rivers called.
"Happy New Year, safe trip," Gus Harper replied.
"Catch ya later, Director Gus. Post-New Year vibes!" Jonah York waved.
"See ya. Tell your folks I said hi," Gus nodded.
"Hold up, I'll bring back some tea cakes or something. Peace, Sam!" another dev chimed.
"Cool, Happy New Year," Gus grinned.
New Year's Eve crept up fast.
Per WindyPeak Games's holiday memo, Titanfall's dev data was locked tight from Lunar New Year's Day, with the project team off until the eighth—seven full days, no sneaky weekend cuts or comp time nonsense.
Operations and Maintenance? They ran a rotation, triple pay for holiday shifts, and work-from-home perks.
Sure, the memo said "holiday starts New Year's Day."
But Zoey Parker? She waved her hand on New Year's Eve morning:
"Screw working on New Year's Eve! Go home, go home, go home!"
By noon, Tech Tower was a ghost town.
Devs swung by Gus's office, said their goodbyes, and bounced to celebrate.
The usually buzzing WindyPeak went silent.
Only the director's office echoed with the voices of three bros.
"...Got more dipping sauce? Hook me up," Gus said, swiping a dumpling through the vinegar dish and popping it in his mouth.
"Dude, you drinking that stuff?" Luke Bennett gaped, splitting his sauce with Jake Rivers to share with Gus.
The trio chowed down on dumplings—a tradition since their college days.
Less "group meal," more Luke and Jake keeping Gus company.
See, Luke and Jake had family waiting for New Year's Eve dinner.
Gus? Solo. His household registry? One lonely page. "Like Kha'Zix, I'm passive all year," he'd joke, referencing League of Legends.
Luke and Jake never laughed.
They couldn't fathom how Gus handled the solitude.
All they could do was eat dumplings with him every New Year's Eve, hyping the vibe to ease his loneliness.
After stuffing their faces and shooting the breeze, they headed to drop Jake at the station.
Post-wave, Luke and Gus returned to Tech Tower, firing up the IndieVibe X2 cabin for Duos Delight.
Real talk: games hit different with your bros.
Chicks? They just slow your trigger finger.
Veteran gamers and devs, they owned their own game.
With the office empty, Tech Tower became their personal arcade, grinding matches and ranks all afternoon.
Rat-tat-tat!
Gus's bullets turned the last lone wolf into a box.
The PUBG screen flashed: Good luck, chicken dinner tonight!
"Hell yeah! Bronze champs, Luke!" Gus roared.
"We're killing it! Silver Master's next!" Luke whooped.
"No doubt!" Gus laughed:
"Three thousand points from God of War status!"
"Brothers!" "Unstoppable!"
The two dorks cheered.
Night fell fast.
"Crash at my place for New Year's?" Luke asked, packing his backpack with data notes.
"Six years you've asked, and you're still not tired? Nah," Gus clapped his shoulder:
"Tell your folks I said hi. Go on, I'm gonna taste some loneliness."
"You…" Luke hesitated, seeing Gus's chill grin:
"Dumbass."
He waved, heading for the door: "Happy New Year!"
"...Happy New Year," Gus called back.
7:30 p.m. The news wrapped, night took over, and Tech Tower went dead quiet.
New Year's Eve, and the project and ops crews were home celebrating.
Zoey? She'd popped in that morning, yoinked Chloe Quinn in thirty minutes, and split.
Gus sat in his office, the silence deafening, feeling a bit lost.
"BT," he called.
A smooth electronic voice answered from his smart speaker, renamed BT-7274 with a custom voice:
"Hey, Sam, I'm BT-7274, call me BT. What's up?"
"Play a New Year's Overture," Gus said, chasing some festive feels.
The lively tune kicked in, but instead of cheer, it made the empty office feel lonelier.
Bored, Gus wandered to the break room, messing with the claw machine for lollipops.
Click. Click. Click.
Either he was off his game, or the new lollipop wrappers were slicker than usual.
No luck.
He debated raiding Luke's desk for snack coins when—
Rumble.
The company's electric door slid open.
"Huh?" Gus frowned, stepping into the corridor.
There stood Zoey Parker, eyes wide, face a mix of shock and panic.
Their gazes locked.
Zoey took half a step back:
"Who you partying with?!"
She was spooked.
Huge office!
Empty hall!
New Year's Overture blaring!
And Gus, like some lone ghost, staring her down from the corridor's end!
Instant spooky vibe maxed out.
Zoey felt a chill from her toes to her scalp, her back freezing.
Seeing her terror, Gus played dumb:
"Me? Partying with the crew…"
He waved behind her: "Yo, Happy New Year, let's grab dumplings later!"
Zoey's hair stood on end!
She whipped around—nobody there. Her scalp nearly exploded!
Huddled in her white Urban Outfitters puffy jacket, she stammered:
"W-What? Who… you talking to?!"
"Old Sam, from the floor above…" Gus started.
Then—bam!—his eyes turned sharp, like daggers piercing Zoey's heart.
"Wait…" Gus stepped closer:
"You can't see the crew, can you…?"
"Ah—?!" Zoey's legs buckled, stumbling back against the wall.
Gus closed in.
"I said…" he squinted, then bellowed:
"You stepped on Old Sam's foot!"
"Waaah!" Zoey blew up, clutching her pigtails, crouching into a snowball, sobbing:
"I'm sorry… I didn't mean to… I couldn't see… I just came for a package…"
"Don't haunt me…"
Seeing Zoey quivering, Gus finally found some fun in his lonely New Year's Eve.
Then, as expected, he got wrecked.
Gus shrugged it off.
If you pull a stunt that dirty, you sign up for the beatdown.
Still—
"Ow… Zoey, you went hard," Gus groaned, nursing bite marks on his wrist in the break room:
"You a dog or what? Any deeper, and I'm getting a rabies shot."
"Deserved!" Zoey snapped, fiddling with the claw machine's joystick, picking up Gus's lollipop hunt:
"I went easy on you."
She pouted, smacking the machine:
"Come on! I can't grab it!"
Gus raised his hand: "Work injury?"
"Work through the pain to prove your loyalty," Zoey shot back, yanking him up:
"And fix my heart's trauma."
Gus smirked: "You're ridiculous…"
Zoey started to argue, then her eyes welled up: "Waaah—"
Gus wasn't falling for it. He gently covered her mouth.
Her wails turned into muffled "Mmph, mmph, mmph…"
Sounded like a cannibal tribe prepping dinner.
Gus cracked up. Zoey, half-mad, half-laughing, lunged to pummel him:
"Gus Harper, you dog!"
Amid the New Year's Overture's upbeat rhythm, they played a cat-and-mouse chase around the break room.
Oddly, Gus nailed the claw machine on his next try, snagging a lollipop.
"Here, heal your heart," he said, handing it to Zoey:
"Grab your package and go. It's almost eight. Walter's probably antsy."
Zoey paused, rolling her eyes:
"Him? He's not waiting. Another banquet this year. I'm solo for New Year's…"
Gus froze.
He wasn't the only one alone tonight.
Made sense. Walter Parker, business titan, had a crazy network. Banquets year-round? Par for the course.
Seeing Zoey, another lone soul, Gus thought of his own night facing the dull New Year's TV Special.
He opened his mouth, but Zoey beat him to it:
"Wanna set off fireworks?"
She knew Gus's family situation—hell, she knew everyone's at WindyPeak.
Her eyes gleamed mischievously. Gus stepped back:
"That look… hard pass."
"Ugh, why you always assume the worst?" Zoey grabbed his sleeve, shaking it:
"Just fireworks! What, think I'll strap you to a rocket?"
"Not ruling it out…" Gus muttered.
"Spill, or I'm out," he said.
Zoey scratched her head, sheepish:
"Hold on."
She darted to her office, returning with a courier box stuffed with mini air cannons.
Pop!
She fired one, flinching:
"Bought these to mess around instead of fireworks."
"'Cause big ones scare me…"
"I might… uh… blow myself up."
Gus choked on the honesty:
"So you'd let me blow up?!"
"Heh…" Zoey gave an awkward grin:
"Shouldn't kill you, right? It's fireworks, not C4…"
"Plus, WindyPeak's top-tier benefits got your medical card stacked."
Gus clutched his chest.
Met the damn devil.
Her limit was his medical card taking a hit.
"Well?" Zoey leaned in, eyes sparkling:
"Big fireworks, super pretty!"
What could Gus say?
Crackle!
The first red fireworks burst over Puget Sound's designated display zone.
Zoey covered her ears, giggling as Gus sprinted back through the celebratory booms.
On the roadside, her burgundy Porsche faced Gus's golden-black Navigator.
Between them, a human-high pile of fireworks drew stares.
Red rockets kicked off the show.
Clusters, orbs, and sprays lit up the sky, reflecting off Puget Sound's waters.
Across Seattle, city lights blazed, amping the New Year's vibe.
Ferries flashed "Happy New Year," carrying waves of warmth.
Along Puget Sound, others joined the fireworks party.
"Ours are the best!" Zoey waved a fairy wand, beaming:
"Biggest! Brightest! Badass!"
"Yeah, yeah," Gus nodded, smiling:
"Ours win."
Sizzle—BOOM!
Another firework rocketed up.
Under the starry sky, bursts bloomed one after another.
Gus glanced at Zoey, cheering beside him, and grinned.
She caught his look, turning.
Their eyes met under the glowing night.
Zoey's lips moved, drowned out by the blasts.
"What?" Gus shouted over the booms.
Zoey's eyes curved like crescents:
"I said—"
"Happy New Year!"
BOOM!
The biggest firework exploded, pulling gasps from the crowd.
Its crimson glow lit Zoey's face red…
Out with the old, in with the new!
The New Year passed in a flash.
A no-shift-break holiday? Pure bliss.
Eighth day of Lunar New Year, WindyPeak roared back to life, everyone hyped.
"Yo, Jonah, your face got rounder in a week!" Jake teased.
"Man, you've tasted my wife's cooking. I've been stuffed!" Jonah laughed.
"Back to work! I missed my BT," a dev said.
"BT would've tanked knowing this…" another jabbed.
"Shut up!" Laughter.
The mothballed Titanfall project fired up, full passion.
As giants IndieVibe and Nebula Games rebooted, the gaming market turned into a Wild West Showdown.
Both had their fanbases and aces.
A silent media war erupted.
Nebula fired first.
IndieVibe hit back, no slouch.
In two weeks, their media snipes peaked.
Three months from the IndieVibe X2 and Polar Bear 3 cabin launches, the stakes were sky-high.
Why the frenzy?
End of the month, both dropped promotional videos for their three escort masterpieces.
First head-to-head, and it was make-or-break.
The videos would reveal game types, visuals, themes, innovation—first impressions for media and players.
No one dared slack.
Tate's Gaming Scoop, GameHub, Global Esports, MiniPlay—news flooded in, speculations flying.
The gaming world was chaos, pure and simple.
The curtain was rising…