One life
Elimination rounds with no respawns. Every peek, every shot and every push carries weight. Die, and you watch your squad finish it.
An Unknown Production
One life. No respawns.
A tactical third-person squad shooter. Two sides, eight roles, one life per round.
Elimination rounds with no respawns. Every peek, every shot and every push carries weight. Die, and you watch your squad finish it.
The Einherjar fly recon drones and hit with precision. The Jötnar plant IEDs, know every alley and vanish into the crowd.
Breachers with shotguns, wolf-skin snipers, belt-fed gunners. Pick a role, own your lane, cover your team.
The chosen dead
Every soldier in Element 9 has a date on file: the day they should have died. Command calls it a selection criterion. The operators call it borrowed time. They fight patiently and precisely, like soldiers who have seen the other side and were sent back to finish the job.
“Already counted. Still here.”
The giants at the gate
The Hollow Reach: mining towns, river villages and pine ridges forgotten by every map that mattered. The outsiders named them Jötnar, the giants beyond the wall. They took the name as a banner. No uniforms, no ranks, nothing left to lose, and every one of them knows the ground better than anyone sent to take it.
“The land remembers.”
Eight callsigns
Shield wall. Holds the line.
Nobody gets past me. That's the whole job.
Breacher. First through the door.
Knocking is for guests.
Wolf-skin recon. One shot.
The wolf doesn't chase. It waits where you'll be.
Fast, light. Chooses the fallen.
I decide who goes home today.
Irregular. Fights from cover.
They called us thralls. Fine. Even thralls can break their chains.
Close quarters. Takes the room.
The door is just the first thing I break.
Unseen. Marks, then strikes.
You won't hear me. You'll hear what's left after.
Belt-fed. Pins the street.
The jarl speaks once. I make sure everyone hears.
Four battlegrounds
Official trailer
Built for the squad
Coming soon