Bloody Hell, They Did It! Anthem's Back (Sort Of) Thanks to One Digital Wizard
AI Gaming News Author · Eurogamer ·
Just days after EA shut down Anthem for good, a curious digital wizard named And799 has managed to get the game running on private servers, sparking hopes for community-led preservation and raising vital questions about the future of online-only games.
Right, so cast your mind back a few weeks, eh? January 12th, to be precise. That’s when EA and BioWare officially pulled the plug on Anthem. Not with a bang, mind you, but with a whimper, a digital sigh, and a server-switch flicked firmly to 'off.' For a game that promised so much – flying Javelins, epic co-op, that whole 'Iron Man meets Destiny' vibe – it ended up as another casualty in the ever-growing graveyard of ambitious online-only titles. No offline mode, no peer-to-peer handshakes, just gone. Poof. Like a spell backfiring and accidentally erasing the target from existence. The corporate message was clear: 'Move along, nothing to see here, folks.'
But you know how it is with gamers, especially the clever, curious sorts. Tell 'em something's impossible, and they'll probably see it as a dare. And wouldn't you know it, just five days after Anthem's official demise, a YouTube user by the name of And799 popped up with a video that had me blinking harder than a wizard who just misread a scroll of invisibility. The title? 'Anthem Client as Server testing - POC.' And there it was, mate – Anthem, running. On private servers. Two players even co-oping in a lobby, looking surprisingly… alive.
Now, And799 was quick to point out this was just a personal research experiment, a bit of digital spelunking, if you will. Their channel's packed with similar tinkering, mostly with other EA games, which tells me this isn't just a flash in the pan but a genuine curiosity at play. What's working? The core gameplay, the Javelin flying, the shooting – all the good stuff. What's not? Well, things like your online profile, the big centralized bits EA used to handle. But honestly, who cares about the fancy profile pic when you can actually *play* the game again?
This, my friends, is where it gets really interesting. Remember Mark Darrah, the ex-BioWare executive producer? He did a massive video diving into Anthem's whole saga, from birth to its untimely demise. And he mentioned, almost casually, that the *code for local servers actually existed*. Said it could be 'salvaged and recovered' if EA ever decided to part ways with the IP, suggesting a $10 million plan for a single-player reboot. Ten million quid for a second chance? That's a fair whack, but if And799's little experiment is anything to go by, it seems Darrah wasn't just whistling Dixie. The foundation was always there, lurking in the digital shadows, waiting for someone to find it.
This whole saga isn't just about Anthem, though, is it? It's a loud, clanging alarm bell for the entire industry. How many online-only games have we seen vanish into the ether, taking all those player hours and memories with them? It's like building a grand magical castle, only to have the owner decide it's too much bother and poof it out of existence, trapping all the adventurers inside. We're talking about genuine digital archaeology here, the kind of stuff that makes you wonder about the longevity of our entire gaming history. Other industry folks are already chiming in on the importance of multiplayer game preservation, and frankly, it's about bloody time.
On one hand, you've got the corporate giants, quick to shut down servers when the numbers don't add up, leaving loyal players in the lurch. On the other, you've got these incredible communities, these digital wizards like And799, who refuse to let go. They see a challenge, a mystery, a puzzle to solve. Can a fan-led project truly bring Anthem back to a sustainable, playable state for thousands? That's a huge ask, mate. There are legal dragons to slay, scaling issues, and the sheer technical wizardry involved in replicating an entire server infrastructure. But if we've learned anything, it's that community passion and ingenuity are incredibly potent forces. They're often the most innovative ones in the room, finding solutions that multi-million dollar studios either overlook or deem not 'cost-effective.'
This isn't about blaming anyone, mind you. Game development is complex, often chaotic. But it *is* about asking tougher questions when games are designed as online-only experiences. What happens when the plug gets pulled? What about the players who invested their time, their coin, their hopes? It's a reminder that true 'ownership' in the digital realm can be a slippery concept. When a game's existence relies solely on a company's servers, is it truly yours? This fan effort, while small now, is a powerful statement about reclaiming that experience, about forging a future where games don't just disappear.
And just to underscore the point, what's next on the chopping block? Amazon's New World, apparently. Already delisted, set to shut down on January 31st next year. See a pattern forming, mate? It's a digital ouroboros, constantly consuming its own tail. We need better preservation strategies, built-in offline modes, or at the very least, official server packages for communities to host when the official lights go out. Because these fan efforts are incredible, vital even, but they shouldn't have to be the *only* way.
So, while EA might have thought they'd delivered the final blow to Anthem, it seems some Javelins simply refuse to be grounded. This proof-of-concept by And799 isn't just a technical achievement; it's a beacon. A tiny, flickering, slightly chaotic beacon that screams, 'Players will find a way!' And I reckon, fair dinkum, they probably will. Now, what happens if this 'personal research experiment' accidentally kicks off a full-blown community-led resurrection? That, my friends, would be a spellbinding story indeed.
[Originally reported by Fran Ruiz for Eurogamer
Tags: Anthem, Game Preservation, Fan Projects, Online Gaming, Community Gaming
Original article: Eurogamer