Arc Raiders is very nice, and the feeling that I've been missing since DayZ.

Arc Raiders is a cooperative third-person shooter developed by Embark Studios. Set in a post-apocalyptic world, players team up to fight against robotic enemies and complete various missions. The game emphasises teamwork, strategy, and fast-paced action, making it a thrilling experience for fans of the genre.

I remember it like it was last week (Because it fucking was). The day I spent sixty Australian dollars on what I thought would be another game I’d play for ages, only to get 5 hours in and be [this fucking close] to never touching again.

The game hs a very simple premise: you run around a post-apocalyptic wasteland, you shoot robots, you collect loot, and you do it solo because that’s what I do. That’s what I’ve been doing for six years. Solo queue Dota turbo mode, twenty minute rounds, in and out, no relationships, no Discord servers I’ll never check, no party invites I’ll have to decline because I’m working or because I just don’t have the energy to be social after staring at IT tickets all day. I work as a TechOps admin. Single person in APAC for my function. I get some (but not the greatest amount of) time to play games outside of work, and forming relationships with PC players has been a struggle for years. It’s why I stopped trying. It’s easier.

So I bought Arc Raiders on a whim after seeing some gameplay footage on Instagram of some pretty silly stuff. Not going to lie, I went into it and gave it a few rounds. I liked the looter shooter mechanics. I liked that I could play it solo. I liked that I could push a stealth run style. And for those first five hours I was having an alright time. The gunplay is solid. I’m rewarded for stealth. The solo experience means I’m not pressured into partying up like so many MMO-style games where solo is impossible. But then I kind of started hitting a wall. The missions started to feel samey. The loot started to feel unrewarding. The stealth started to feel pointless. And to be honest I thought this was another game where I had sunk sixty dollars on the promise of solo play, only to find out that the game is designed around co-op play, and soloing it is a slog. It’s always a slog. Have I been scammed by my own brain?

On my last run I got killed by another player. Which is apparently a rarity as people online will tell you that in solos the PvP is pretty rare (compared to partying where everyone is apparently killing eachother). But I got killed. And I was like “You know what, I’m done with this game. It’s not for me.”

I played a few Dota matches today. And after like a week of just absolutely no wins, raging teammates, and general toxicity, I was like “One more mission in Arc. Let’s see.” I loaded it up. I went for the hidden bunker mission. Which is unforgiving. I, no shit, died within thirty seconds to a spider bot, not unlike one of those fucking tachikoma from Ghost in the Shell, which gunned me down in five seconds. “Fuck this shit. Fucking garbage designed by dickheads.” I went back once more. Low amount of loot. No healing items in my inventory.

And guys, the next forty-five minutes was magic. But first, let me tell you what happened.

I never use my microphone online. I just don’t. I haven’t used it in six years. But this whole round I was scrambling to get it working on CachyOS and this game. PulseAudio being a pain in the ass. Linux picking up 20 different input devices. But by god, I got it working in the last five minutes.

Because within a few minutes of starting, I ran into a player. And he was friendly. And he guided me through this mission. He spoke on mic and I used the template voice lines your character can speak. Things like “Don’t shoot” and “Yes” and “No” and “Thank you”. And we moved through the map together. And then we met a group of three more. And the five of us went running around the map hitting each switch. Each terminal. Each objective.

THEN WE MET ANOTHER FOUR, AND NOW IT WAS THE NINE OF US. RUNNING AROUND, FUCKING SHIT UP, CO-OPERATIVE FUCKING MAGIC.

Everyone had been a solo queuer. Everyone had been doing what I was doing!

Our party by the end of this was twelve. One two. Twelve people. And it was magic, Everyone was nice, Half the people were on mics while I was fumbling around constantly trying to get mine to work by switching windows constantly. Testing. Fail. Testing. Fail.

We destroyed this mission. We played decoy. We played support. We employed so many tactics that my legs were flailing around in excitement. People were calling out bot positions. People were sharing loot. People were reviving each other. And I was there. Part of it. Part of this thing. Holy shit.

I have not felt this way since I played DayZ back in 2013 and would wander into another player who wanted to co-op. Back when you could meet someone on the coast and they wouldn’t shoot you on sight. Back when you could team up and raid a supermarket together and it felt like you were surviving something real. I have been missing this. For twelve years. And I didn’t even know it until right now.

The final moments of the game comprised of half the party being down. Robots everywhere. Gunfire. Explosions. The other half gunning down every bot around the exfiltration area. Me included, mic finally working, talking absolute fucking trash with the team and gee-ing eachother up to get into the exit bunker.

All twelve of us made it out. And then silence. Everyone was off back to their own lobbies. Round over. And in those solitary moments, after the round, and in the silence, you kind of just sit there. And you feel proud. And you feel the sense of community and fun, and other stuff maybe you can’t quite name.

You see, the thing is this. I work in IT. I manage devices for two thousand employees across seven countries. I do it alone from Melbourne (with 6 others in the UK). I spend my days writing auto-responders for ticket systems, doing helpdesk tickets, trying to deploy enterprise solutions, and just internally raging because someone rushed into something and built an eifel tower out of ice and it’s my job to fix it. I sometimes spend my evenings just kind of waiting for stuff to do. I play Dota turbo because it’s twenty minutes and then it’s over and I don’t have to commit to anything or anyone. And somewhere along the way I convinced myself that this was fine, and that solo was better, and that I didn’t need other people in my games because other people are unreliable and quick to anger and stupid, oh so stupid.

Other people can be the worst.

When that player first spoke to me, and what happened when we met the group of three, was a culture shock. I haven’t encountered that level of community in so long. Knowing that there are two sides to this in that the experience and feeling might have been a one-time thing, or have the possibility of happening many more times, I am kind of encouraged to try again.

I think I’m going to try again. I think I’m going to stop hiding in Dota turbo. Queue up for Arc Raiders this week again. I think I’m going to turn my mic on from the start this time, and try to find that co-op magic more often.

Because honestly, that was fun as shit.