In today’s gaming industry, marketing missteps aren’t just costly—they can be catastrophic. Just look at Concord. The ill-fated live-service shooter was pulled from digital storefronts within two weeks, and the studio behind it, Firewalk, shuttered in under two months. According to Bloomberg’s Jason Schreier, more than 200 jobs were impacted. It wasn’t just a failure of gameplay or design—it was a failure of communication, timing, and narrative control.
This is the climate Marathon is entering, and Bungie needs to take that seriously.
We’re living in a post-Concord world, one where the cost of AAA development has skyrocketed, multiplayer games are flooding the market, and online discourse has become relentlessly volatile. It’s not just about building a good game anymore—it’s about shaping the conversation around that game before it spirals beyond your control. If Bungie doesn’t seize that opportunity, Marathon risks becoming another cautionary tale.

The Trouble With Mixed Messaging
Marathon, Bungie’s upcoming extraction shooter, is slated to launch in September 2025. Following a closed alpha test that ran from April 23 to May 4, the public finally got a look at gameplay, with impressions flooding social media and streaming platforms. Feedback has been, at best, mixed—and at worst, spoken in the same breath as Concord.
That alone should set off alarms.
The comparison may not be fair in substance—these are different games from different teams—but in perception, they now share a dangerous narrative link: two sci-fi shooters, published under the same Sony umbrella, both trying to enter a genre already saturated and struggling to maintain long-term player bases. Albeit, the extraction shooter genre is more niche, but that doesn’t play into Bungie’s favor either.
The team recently hosted a creator summit and later streamed a lengthy dev showcase, but these efforts felt like they were speaking to an audience already converted. It lacked a clear, compelling pitch for newcomers or casual fans—the kind who need to be won over, not just updated.

What Bungie Needs to Do
First and foremost, Bungie must clarify why Marathon matters. What makes it stand out? Why should players care? They need to package that message in a digestible way, with transparency around the game’s pricing model and post-launch roadmap. Why will Marathon be a premium title? Will it still include microtransactions? What content will players get on day one—and beyond?
This is where Firewalk stumbled. Concord failed to clearly define and communicate its value. There is an audience that is tired of battlepasses and outrageously expensive skins, but not a single game so far has been able to tap into that audience. Bungie can’t make the same mistake.
Even if Marathon does include microtransactions, the key is to get ahead of the discourse. Own the message. Frame the value. If you don’t tell players what the game is, they’ll fill in the blanks themselves—and in 2025, that’s a dangerous gamble.
Delay Should Be on the Table
Another solution? Delay the game.
It’s not a defeatist move—it’s a strategic one. Pushing back Marathon would allow more time for refinement, more community testing, and most importantly, space from the shadow of Concord. Let the dust settle. Let the studio take the time it needs to deliver a better first impression, and launch into a quieter market window where the message won’t be drowned in cynicism.

Of course, delays are never easy, and Bungie is undoubtedly facing pressure from both fans and stakeholders. But if the goal is long-term sustainability—not just a flashy debut—a few extra months could make all the difference.
Hope for the Future
All this said, I’m rooting for Bungie. I want Marathon to succeed. It’s been disheartening to watch so many studios close while social media relentlessly mocks each stumble, forgetting the real people behind the games. Developers deserve better, and so do players.
But success doesn’t just hinge on quality—it hinges on perception. Bungie must take control of the narrative now, not later. Because if Marathon launches into the same confused, fragmented conversation that doomed Concord, it may not get a second chance.





