Thank You,
Knight Teir: "Oscar Sandoval"
For Becoming A Member On My Pa'treon. The Emperor Protect.
-----------
While players were still immersed in the heated clash between PixelPioneers Studio and John, an unexpected announcement appeared on John's official blog: PixelPioneers Studio would soon be releasing a brand-new game.
There was no expensive publicity campaign, nor were there any flashy marketing stunts. Just a single blog post, accompanied by a few quiet channels on Social Tap, was enough to spread the news. For John, this project was little more than a warm-up exercise for the new team, a trial run to polish their coordination. He never held high expectations for it. The price was set at a fair price, which is reasonable enough for the game itself.
Yet things turned out differently from what John had imagined. The online evaluations were not kind. With the release of Red Alert on the very next day, the public opinion of the new game plummeted to a mere 7 points, and looked as if it might continue to sink. For most studios, a 7 would be considered a passable score. But this was PixelPioneers Studio. No game in their entire history had ever been rated this low.
"A little disappointed, John made this after The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim?"
"There's no real story, just endless competition against other players or the AI. It's fun for a while, but I can't believe this is the work of PixelPioneers Studio."
"They clearly have the skill to craft something on the scale of The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim… so why waste it on a game like this?"
"Price aside, the quality doesn't match their standards. I admit PixelPioneers Studio has always had a conscience about pricing, but this time… honestly, I'm disappointed."
"From Binding of Isaac onward, I've followed PixelPioneers Studio. When The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim came out, I was blown away. For years, no domestic studio had produced anything so shocking and world-class. Back then, I swore to myself: whatever they made, I would buy, no hesitation, even if it wasn't my type of game. They never let me down. But Red Alert? It's like a bucket of cold water. It reminds me of that infamous mobile game company, great technology, but famous only for plagiarism. PixelPioneers Studio may not copy like them, but in essence, the disappointment feels the same."
These were some of the mainstream voices, but there were also harsher ones. A few fans declared that PixelPioneers Studio had fallen from its altar, no longer the untouchable beacon it once was.
In the future, critics said, PixelPioneers Studio might become like the so-called Big Three, releasing a handful of decent titles every year, padded with flashy, profit-driven projects.
Yet this was not the only perspective. Many players defended the studio, insisting the backlash was overblown. After all, the price point was fair, and not every game could reach legendary heights.
Still, John could not ignore the criticism. Like most creators, he found his eyes drawn not to the praise, but to the sharp edges of discontent. He sat before his computer, reading through the endless comments on Red Alert.
The rhythm of the backlash was unnervingly fast, so fast that it almost felt orchestrated by unseen hands. But John knew that didn't matter. If negativity spread this quickly, it was because the game itself allowed it.
From a purely commercial standpoint, Red Alert was still a success. Without any marketing, it had sold over 600,000 copies on its first day. A remarkable number by any measure.
But was it truly a good game? John leaned back, staring at the polished GDD documents on his screen. His mind, however, was elsewhere, adrift, unsettled.
That evening, back at home, he lay on the bed, absentmindedly teasing the dog at his side. Luna turned toward him, her expression gentle but curious.
"You seem… distracted today," she said softly.
"It's just… confusing," John admitted, recounting the online criticisms he had read. He stretched, his body heavy with fatigue, while the dog growled playfully, snapping at his foot as if to reclaim its territory.
Luna listened carefully, then gave a knowing smile. "Maybe it's because your last game was too good."
"Too good?" John echoed.
"Think of it like this," she explained. "Imagine a top student who always scores 95 or 100. Then one day, they get an 80. To teachers and parents, it looks like they're slacking off, even though 80 is still respectable. That's how players see you."
John chuckled bitterly. "Maybe. But people can't always win."
"Honey," Luna said, climbing onto his lap and cupping his face with her hands, "didn't you once promise to make great games, not just for success, but because you wanted to?"
"Mm…"
Her gaze held his. "This game could've been better, sure. But we're not short on money. Even if we fail a few times, even if the company goes bankrupt tomorrow, we'd still live comfortably. So why rush? Why limit yourself? When I first met you, I thought you were foolish, especially when you quit your job just to chase game development. Foolish… but it's the foolishness I fell in love with."
Her voice softened, tender but firm. "Back then, we had nothing. Even if you failed, I was willing to stand by you. Now we have more than enough, so why be afraid of failure? And yet, here you are, doubting yourself. Tell me, isn't that the real foolishness?"
John stayed quiet for a long moment, then finally smiled. "You're right. I am a fool."
He pulled her close, holding her tightly, and whispered with warmth, "But I'm your fool."
In that embrace, his hesitation began to fade. Luna was right. Why think so much? Why fear setbacks or inexperience? The path forward was simple: keep developing, keep nurturing the team, and trust in the journey.
Looking again at the criticisms of Red Alert, John felt a new resolve harden within him. Just as he had remade his early mobile game, he would remake Red Alert, too, even if it had already launched. He already had the rough plan in mind.
But this time, his vision was bigger. He didn't want just a single title. He wanted a series. Not only Red Alert, but a grand arc. Drawing from the memories of World War II in his memory, John envisioned a sweeping saga, with Red Alert as the foundation stone, the prelude to something far greater.