"Stick players in prison?"
"Whoa…"
"…"
Time's tight, stakes are sky-high!
After nailing down the game idea, Gus Harper jumped into GDC prep.
First, he had Chloe Quinn draft a reply to the GDC organizers, saying WindyPeak Games was thrilled to join and would follow up for conference details.
Then, with a quick wave, he rallied the project department's heavy hitters for a pre-launch meeting.
Like they say, strike while the iron's hot!
With the Outlast Whistleblower DLC nearly wrapped—just some polish and bug fixes left—the team was restless, craving a new target.
Perfect timing—
GDC's direct invite meant a shot at the big time!
Everyone knew GDC's weight.
For industry pros, it outranked the world's four major game expos!
It's the only global hub where top dogs trade ideas.
Bit of a stretch, but—
Rock the big four expos, and you've got players and markets locked.
Earn a standing ovation at GDC? You're legit.
It's simple.
Rivals are enemies.
If they're cheering you, you're crushing it.
So, when the news dropped—
The project department went wild, everyone charging to the meeting room, hyped like, "Let's hit GDC and show the pros how it's done!"
But then—
Gus laid out the project pitch, and the room's buzz flatlined.
Prison?
The idea landed like a gut punch, silencing the office.
Everyone swapped stunned, skeptical glances.
And get this—players wouldn't just be in prison; they'd have to plot their breakout, using every trick in the book!
This game… too intense?
Seeing the team—his crew of execs—falter, Gus grinned and waved it off. "No sweat, just spitball your thoughts."
After some looks, Luke Bennett spoke up. "Gus, crime games aren't new, but something this heavy? That's a stretch."
Luke had binged prison-break flicks and shows.
But a game? Unheard of. He worried the market wouldn't bite.
Before Gus could answer, Jade Sierra chimed in. "There was a game like that, seven or eight years ago, on PC."
"Called Prison Break, based on the American show, made by CloudWave Games' Chicago studio."
"It popped off at launch but crashed hard—lousy gameplay, buggy mess."
"Oh?" Gus raised an eyebrow.
He'd thought this concept was fresh for this world.
But nope, someone tried it years back.
Figures, though.
With The Shawshank Redemption and Prison Break out there, a game like that wasn't a shocker.
"So, what tanked the gameplay?" Gus asked, curious why a licensed IP flopped so bad it faded, only recalled by vets like Jade.
"Missions, endless missions, main and side quests all jumbled," Jade said.
"Say you want a prison riot. You need a sharpened toothbrush. That means trading with a guard. Guard wants smokes. You trade smokes with the boss. Boss wants you in his gang. Joining means pleasing the crew. That takes soap…"
"Plus, side quests sprout everywhere."
"Endgame? Your map's buried in question marks."
"Add shoddy optimization and brutal bugs…"
"Players felt caged, just like the protagonist."
Jade paused. "Gus, you good?"
Gus was gripping his chest, wincing.
"I'm… fine…" he said, waving it off.
But ouch, that stung.
Jade was dunking on Prison Break, but Gus, who'd slugged it out at Skybound Games in his past life, felt every word like a jab.
Quest-flooded maps, side-mission chaos, nasty bugs…
Good thing Prison Break was single-player, or a laggy server would've buried it for good.
"That won't be us," Gus said, steadying himself. "Our game's all about the story."
"And we're dropping something totally fresh."
The room leaned in, eyes wide, hyped.
Gus's creativity was the stuff of legends.
His bold ideas always rocked the gaming scene.
What was he cooking for GDC, their first global stage?
"Two-player co-op, where the whole game demands two players teaming up."
Gasp—
The room sucked in air, floored.
A game that requires two players?
No AI teammates in this online setup!
That's a big ask—needing a buddy to play!
"The core is dual-linear story progression," Gus said.
"Two players, two perspectives, two storylines tied into one."
"Sometimes you're in the same scene, sometimes worlds apart."
"You complete each other, neither can solo it."
"Plus, your choices steer the story's path and ending."
Gus clapped. "Folks, this isn't just an online adventure. It's a legit co-op game."
"A two-lead movie we're directing."
Boom!
The room exploded with excitement.
A real co-op game!
Not like some zombie shooter, teaming up for a safehouse.
Not like a cooking game, rushing to plate dishes.
This went beyond "help your teammate" or "pass the goods."
From the story's heart, the two players are bound, inseparable.
True co-op, chasing one goal through different roads!
"Of course, nothing like this is out there," Gus said.
"So, it's gonna be a beast to make."
"I'll have the plan ready by week's end."
"We'll hash out the game's format at the official kickoff."
Meeting wrapped!
The team stood, buzzing, ready to dive into the project.
"Oh, hold up!" Luke stopped, turning to Gus. "We didn't name the project, did we?"
"Huh, yeah…" Gus paused. "Got caught up in the vibe."
"So, what's the name?"
"Gus, you got something, right?"
"Spill it, boss!"
Gus grinned. "Outlast."
What?
Everyone froze.
Wait—did they blank out, or did Gus?
Outlast? The one that just dropped last week?
A sequel already?
A two-player, dual-perspective co-op with Miles Upsher and Wallen Parker?
But Gus never vibed with sequels!
Seeing their shock, Gus laughed. "This Outlast ain't that Outlast."
"It's A Way Out."
"Or, you know—escape."
…
With the new project greenlit, WindyPeak's morale hit the roof, everyone pumped to get rolling.
Gus pulled A Way Out from his system, tweaking it for the IndieVibe X2 somatosensory cabin.
No small task.
Especially the game's late-stage ten-minute chase—a cinematic masterpiece.
On PC, third-person made epic shots easy.
But in the IndieVibe X2? Blending CG and first-person smoothly was a monster.
Gus knew it'd be tough.
Still, he leaned hard into the cabin format.
For him, a time-traveler, A Way Out was just the opener.
The real "award magnet" was his next co-op game.
To match the market and boost immersion, it had to be a cabin game.
So, why not test the waters with A Way Out?
And Gus? He was living the dream.
Zoey, keeping her word, handled all the week's chores.
Tea, water, cut fruit—she was on point, service A-plus.
Gus half-joked she'd slip something in his tea or fruit.
Zoey, hands on hips, gave him an earful, and he finally relaxed, soaking up the perks.
"Feels good now," he quipped.
Time zipped by.
Friday rolled in fast.
Vroom—vroom—
Leo Caruso sped off with his family, the light blue car fading down the dusty road… (Ending 2: Done)
The keyboard clicks stopped.
The final storyboard was locked.
The 100-plus-page plan was finished.
"Phew—" Gus tossed an apple slice in his mouth, stretching.
"Done."
Click.
The study door swung open, Zoey poking her head in. "You finished?"
Gus flinched.
He hadn't raised his voice—just normal.
How'd Zoey, chilling in the living room, catch it?
"You… lurking at the door?" Gus asked, squinting.
"I…" Zoey scratched her head. She'd been eavesdropping for ten minutes.
"Just passing by."
"Quite the timing," Gus said, smirking, letting it slide. He stood, stretched, and checked the clock.
"Whoa, almost eight? Whistleblower DLC's about to drop."
"Right! That's why I'm here—game time!" Zoey said, waving two bags of potato chips.
"You're ruthless," Gus said, half-laughing. "Chowing down while streamers freak out—you live for their panic?"
"Hey, isn't that why they stream?" Zoey tossed him a chip bag, nudging him to the living room. "C'mon, let's kick back and check our first-week sales."
Her real motive slipped out!
Bam!
Zoey's hype for Outlast Whistleblower DLC streams was a side gig.
Her main focus? Outlast's first-week sales!
1.3 billion yuan!
Tonight!
Sure, her 1.3 billion was a ballpark, and actual sales might shift.
But not by much!
She'd peeked at Outlast's numbers yesterday—
Global sales: 1.03 million copies!
Over a million in six days!
For a horror game, that's wild.
But for Zoey's ROI fixation? No biggie.
Just 1 million copies! $18 million in sales! After the 25% platform cut, $13.5 million profit!
Way short of the $18.15 million budget!
And with Outlast's current pace, no way it'd surge in one day to cover the loss.
Unless the system pulled a fast one!
So, with a plop, Zoey flopped onto the sofa, cross-legged, cracking open an iced Coke, chugging.
Tonight?
She's banking big!