Companies React to Subnautica

In the headquarters of NetPack Factory, daylight still streamed through the windows.

The entire company was busy.

For the past two days, they had thrown themselves completely into analyzing the game Subnautica. From the in-game experiences to combing through the game files, every possible avenue had been exhausted.

But the results? Still disappointing.

The game's total size was nearly 2 terabytes, massive by the standards of Tony's previous world. But in this highly advanced tech world, that kind of file size was still within acceptable range.

In theory, the bigger the game, the more data they had to dissect.

Yet no matter how much they tore it apart, it was no use. The underlying data... made no sense. They couldn't even find a proper entry point.

It was just like their previous attempting to crack Silent Hill PT, completely useless.

No, actually, there was one key difference.

Back then, when employees were forced to play Silent Hill PT, they practically wore expressions of suffering. Some were genuinely shaken by the eerie ghosts and intense horror. A few even tried to resign.

One disgruntled employee had actually taken the matter to court.

[NetPack employee sues over emotional trauma from forced playthrough of Silent Hill PT!]

The media had a field day, and the lawsuit went viral across the internet, with people unanimously siding with the employee. After all, everyone knew just how terrifying Silent Hill PT was.

Emotional abuse? It was hard to argue otherwise.

In the end, the employee won, and NetPack had to take a step back.

So when Subnautica dropped, no one dared to force staff to play it.

But they didn't have to. Their enthusiasm for Subnautica was off the charts.

These days, the entire Content Experience Division sounded like a theme park.

Shouts of excitement echoed through the office:

"Holy, the Aurora crash scene is INSANE!!"

"Dude, the Sea Moth is incredible! Piloting a sub through the ocean feels better than any racing game I've played!"

"You're still racing? Too weak. I've already built a full base on the island!"

"That's nothing, I just unlocked the Prawn Suit! My first time feeling like I'm inside a real mech, SO GOOD!"

"Just wait till you run into the Reaper Leviathan or the Skybreaker. You'll be crying in no time!"

Employees were hooked, so much so that most were still playing Subnautica after hours. As a result, they were far ahead in the story, miles past where popular streamer Natalie was.

Other departments couldn't help but comment.

"Listen to that! They're screaming again, like they're on an alien safari!"

"Must be nice. While we're buried in unreadable code, they're out there living their best lives!"

"I should've transferred to content when I had the chance…"

The envy was real.

To the rest of the staff, the situation felt completely unfair. Why were they stuck decoding files like digital archaeologists, while the others got paid to explore alien planets?

If it had been any other game, maybe they could accept it. But this was Subnautica possibly the greatest video game ever made.

Even people who'd never played games before were falling in love with it on first contact.

The director of NetPack wasn't thrilled either.

He'd received more than a dozen internal requests for department transfers, everyone wanted in on the game. They weren't even subtle about it. Everyone just wanted to play Subnautica on the clock.

He let out a long sigh.

"These people… not even pretending to work anymore. What happened to work ethic?"

Still, part of him understood.

Subnautica had turned the whole company upside down. Productivity was down. Morale was... strangely high. And nobody wanted to go back to normal.

Maybe, just maybe… they'd reached the point where they had to admit the truth.

This game was beyond them.

The content team might as well enjoy the ride, because trying to analyze Subnautica like any other game? A waste of time.

The director glanced down at his watch. Only ten minutes left before the end of the workday.

"Eh... I'll pitch the new proposal to upper management tomorrow," he muttered. "For now…"

He grabbed his coat with a smirk.

"I've got a base to finish building."

RINGGG!

His phone buzzed, cutting through his thoughts.

The caller ID lit up with an unfamiliar number. The director blinked in surprise.

The caller was none other than Edmond, an executive from Microsoft.

The director remembered meeting him once, briefly, at an event for some executives. They'd exchanged contact info, but their relationship was superficial at best.

Still, why would a Microsoft executive be calling him now?

Was it a collaboration?

The director's pulse quickened.

He had always suspected that the mysterious New World Studio was actually a secret Microsoft subsidiary. All that talk about it being a foreign indie team was surely a front. Likely just decoys. It had to be a cover up.

And now that Edmond was calling, it had to mean only one thing.

Microsoft was ready to make it official.

They were reaching out. They wanted to cooperate.

With barely contained excitement, the director answered.

"Hello! Mr. Glick, right? Edmond from Microsoft?"

Edmond's voice came calmly from the other end.

"That's right. Glad you remember me."

"Of course! So... has your company changed its mind?"

"Huh? Changed our mind about what?"

The director paused, momentarily thrown off.

"The partnership proposal from last time? The one our company submitted?"

"I don't recall anything like that," Edmond replied, genuinely confused.

The director's face stiffened. This wasn't going as expected.

Trying to save face, he pivoted, "No worries, forget that for now. What can I help you with today?"

"We're hoping you can share the contact information for the New World Studio," Edmond said.

The director's heart skipped a beat.

Wait… what?!

"Hold on… isn't New World owned by Microsoft?" he asked, voice a little shaky.

"What? No! Who told you that?" Edmond sounded almost amused.

The director's world cracked slightly.

"So they're… not yours?"

"Not even close. And to be honest, I doubt they're who they claim to be either. A studio that advanced? I suspect they might be backed by a tech giant... maybe Google."

"Google?" the director muttered, half to himself.

"Just a theory," Edmond added. "But let's be real, only a handful of global companies have the capability to develop something like this. After Subnautica launched, we began researching it. We're especially interested in the game's AI 'Cortana', I believe it's called. We'd like to establish contact with the devs for a technical discussion."

Technical discussion? The director scoffed inwardly. That definitely meant acquisition talks.

Still, he kept his tone neutral.

"I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't provide contact information for New World, as we don't have it either. I hope you understand."

---BREAK---

Meanwhile, on the other side of the call, at Microsoft HQ, they were holding a high level meeting. On the agenda, whether to acquire New World Studios.

Edmond hung up and turned to the room full of executives.

"Netpack doesn't have contact with New World."

"No problem," another executive said. "We'll go through Twitter. Didn't New World launch their official account there?"

"Exactly. Once we get in touch, we'll probe their background. If they're already owned by another major player, we'll consider collaboration. If not…"

"Then we move to acquisition."

Everyone in the room nodded in agreement.

---BREAK---

Over at the Tesla headquarters, another familiar figure was also exploring the world of Subnautica, Elon Musk himself.

Wearing the latest high end VR headset, Elon sat immersed in the cockpit of a Sea Moth, diving freely through the deep ocean. The sub's autonomous mode was engaged. It moved fluidly through the currents, dodging rocks and fish schools with unnatural precision.

Musk's expression shifted from curiosity to awe.

"Uh… Cortana, can you dive a bit deeper?" he asked.

To his surprise, the AI understood him instantly. The Sea Moth began to descend smoothly.

"Adjust heading... southeast. Max speed," he said, giving it another set of commands.

Each one was carried out flawlessly.

The Sea Moth surged forward like a torpedo, slipping between coral reefs and narrow trenches with zero collisions. Not a single bump, not even against a pebble.

"Incredible... It's like the sub can think for itself," Elon whispered, more to himself than the game.

As someone pushing the boundaries of autonomous vehicles, he couldn't help but compare. His own self-driving cars, especially Tesla's beta systems, were still prone to some error. But this? This was something else.

"This isn't just a game's pathfinding system," Musk muttered. "This is real AI... or something close to it."

His business instincts kicked in.

He had to meet the team behind this. And if possible, acquire them.

ROAR!!!

A deep, otherworldly shriek erupted from the screen.

Elon jolted, snapping back into the game. A massive, blood red sea monster surged toward him from the depths.

"Holy SH-!!"

Seconds later, a very undignified scream echoed through the Tesla executive suite.

---BREAK---

As a seasoned businessman, the instinct to pursue profit was deeply embedded in Julian's very bones.

Even while being completely absorbed in the game, Julian couldn't help but sigh internally.

Such an extraordinary game... yet his own company, Sony, had absolutely nothing to do with it.

What shocked him even more was that it had supposedly been developed by a indie studio?!

Sony was one of the biggest players in the tech scene, with countless subsidiary studios under its wing. They even held shares in major overseas companies like Riot Games.

And yet this level of game? Not even remotely within their reach.

Forget just Sony, even if they joined forces with Apple and Microsoft, they still couldn't dream of producing something like Subnautica.

Julian realized this harsh truth when his in-game escape pod plummeted from ten thousand meters and crashed into the raging sea below.

Then came the stunning visuals: The crashing waves, the burning auroras, the massive moon looming overhead…

It was jaw dropping.

Sony prided itself on having connections throughout the industry. News rarely escaped their ears. Yet no matter how hard they searched, they could find zero information about this so -called New World studio.

Where did these people come from? Did they just appear out of thin air?

After some internal analysis, Julian began to suspect that New World was probably a Shell Studio using the 'Indie' label as a smokescreen. As for why they'd bother pretending, that part still baffled him.

But even while marveling at the studio's capabilities, Julian couldn't help thinking, they were being incredibly naive.

Yes, naive!

A game of this caliber… and they sold it as a one time purchase?!

If it were up to Sony? Easy. They'd release it for free, then make a killing with microtransactions.

First, a 'Quick Gather' tool for $14.99 so players could farm materials faster.

Then, a $19.99 upgrade for a 'High-Capacity Oxygen Tank'.

Followed by a $49.99 'Speed Booster' for longer underwater exploration.

And of course, the iconic 'Sea Moth' submarine, yours for the low, low price of $199.99.

After all, who could resist piloting a sleek submarine in an ocean so real it put reality to shame?

Players would spend. No doubt about it.

Julian shook his head. Changing a few numbers in the code was all it would've taken. Just like that, they could've made thousands, millions, per player.

From his perspective, it was like watching a gold mine being buried.

A studio capable of crafting such a masterpiece... but with no idea how to monetize it? What a shame. If Julian had that kind of development power under his command, he'd never let it go to waste.

Right now, Subnautica had become the subject of intense research by industry giants worldwide.

NetPack was focused on the game's groundbreaking mechanics.

Microsoft was zeroing in on the mysterious 'Cortana' AI.

Tesla was marveling at the game's autonomous navigation system.

And Sony? They were studying just one thing, how to milk money from it.

Everyone had their own agenda. Everyone saw a different future.

2014 Words.