Leo found himself crouching behind broken railings on the edge of a ruined church as the zone grew smaller. There was just one bot left.
Thinking it was cunning, it slithered through a wheat field.
Leo shot it at a distance of 200 meters.
"WINNER WINNER."
"...."
Above him, the victory screen glowed. The wind and music blew across the field. Leo simply stood there grinning and panting.
Not because he prevailed. but because it was successful. It all flowed like a real battlefield, from movement to tension, from sound design to gunplay. The sole distinction was that there was no actual death. Just pure adrenaline.
Leo removed his headset. For a moment, he sat motionless, his chest rising and falling.
"Damn," he uttered. "That's genuinely enjoyable."
However, it wasn't flawless. Combating bots quickly became monotonous. They were intelligent, sometimes too intelligent, but they didn't seem like true rivals.
There was no uncertainty. No feeling. No mayhem. He grinned as he reclined in his chair. "I am eagerly awaiting actual players."
Because when actual people arrived, experienced the same atmosphere, heard the same gunfire, and battled as if their lives depended on it, that's where the game would really shine.
There were limitations to the VR system. It was impossible to breach walls. Concrete was too hard for cars to smash through. Game rules still applied to some sections. But inside those boundaries? It was the most realistic feeling a game had ever had.
Leo was prepared to let the world see it.
The next morning, Leo walked into the studio early.
The sunlight streamed through the tall windows, painting golden streaks on the polished floor. The air still carried the scent of late-night coffee and quiet focus.
Tina was already up, sipping energy drink number two, her eyes locked onto a stream of incoming messages.
"Pre-registrations crossed ten million overnight," she said, eyes wide. "And we're not even live yet."
"Server load?" Leo asked, pulling on his jacket.
"Stable," Melina replied, entering from the hallway, tying her hair back. "The AI network is balancing zones in real time. Even if twenty million players log in, the system will handle it."
Leo nodded. He wasn't the type to show nerves, but even he could feel the weight of the day.
The countdown had already started on social media.
Globally, #GroundZeroVR was trending.
Streamers shared their virtual reality setups.
In an attempt to predict the ideal drop zones, competitive players examined each teaser frame.
Headlines from news outlets read: >
"Hype or Revolution? Today, Leo's VR Battle Royale will launch."
"In just a few hours, the future of gaming will begin."
"Is It Possible for GroundZero to Overtake OrbisTech in VR?"
Small and large studios alike made subtle jabs on social media, asking whether GroundZero was "just another shooter." However, they knew in their hearts that this was unlike anything else. The VR Development Association silently watched in the background.
Inside the studio, everything was ready.
Melina adjusted the welcome screens and global voice prompts. She'd added a subtle echo to the first few lines — something she said would make players feel "like they were entering a legend."
Tina finished checking the matchmaking systems, friend-lobbies, drop-in queues, and spectator modes.
Leo, calm as ever, stared at the launch console — a floating interface showing time, player count, and server status.
"Any final bugs?" he asked.
"Nope," Tina said.
"Trailer?" Melina added. "Scheduled to auto-play on first login. Music synced. Voice synced. Feels epic."
Leo took a deep breath.
Then he looked up at both of them.
"Let's launch it."
….
For non-VR games, a mandatory two-day review period is required before a game can be approved for global release.
However, that's not the case with VR games.
They can be released globally without delay.
The VR industry is so vast and influential that any hold-up in game launches would be considered a major setback. As a result, all VR games are granted direct global release, unlike non-VR games.
This means Leo's game will also be released globally without delay.
As for concerns about a game potentially offending cultural values or sensitivities, there are already measures in place to prevent this.
Firstly, most VR developers are individuals who have years of experience working on lower-level platforms before entering the VR industry. They are well aware of the guidelines and standards, making it unlikely for them to make such mistakes.
Not everyone is like Leo, who became a VR developer in such a short time and with only five games.
Most VR developers have created dozens of regular games before entering the VR space, so they are highly experienced.
And Even if a game ends up affecting a particular country's culture or values, measures will be taken only after the global release—and only within that country.
This approach ensures that the VR game's launch won't be delayed, while still allowing each country to later assess and respond to any cultural or societal risks the game may pose.
….
The button pulsed. A clean blue light.
Leo pressed it.
The studio lights dimmed slightly as the servers connected to global relay points. For a moment, everything felt still.
Then the dashboard erupted.
First 10 seconds:
400,000 users logged in.
30 seconds:
1.8 million across regions
2 minutes:
Server load exceeded forecasts. AI backup nodes kicked in, stabilizing the network without a hitch.
Players entered the lobby.
The launch trailer rolled.
The music soared.