財政難により一時的に一時停止したCrysis 4の開発4
Crytekは、再編、レイオフ、および裂け目の遅延を発表します
Crytekは、スタッフの削減を含む再編計画を確認しました。 400人の労働力の15%を占める約60人の従業員は、継続的な財政難により解雇されます。
同時に、同社は次の裂け目ゲームでの開発の一時的な停止を発表しました。これは2024年第3四半期に決定されました。リソースは現在、Hunt：Showdown 1896に完全に焦点を当てています。
スタジオは、影響を受けた従業員を他のプロジェクトに再割り当てしましたが、これは非現実的であることが証明されました。コスト削減対策が実施されましたが、最終的にはレイオフが必要であるとみなされました。
画像：X.com
Crytekの将来の計画は、拡大ハント：ショーダウン1896コンテンツの拡大を優先しますが、新しいCrysisタイトルは無期限に遅れています。影響を受ける従業員は、退職パッケージとキャリアサポートを受け取ります。
課題にもかかわらず、Crytekは長期的な見通しについて肯定的なままであり、Hunt：Showdown 1896とそのCryEngineテクノロジーの継続的な発展を強調しています。
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Two Embers – Part 1
By [Your Name]
The wind howled across the shattered plains of Eldryth, carrying with it the scent of ash and forgotten prayers. Once, this land had bloomed beneath twin suns—golden and silver—cradled in the arms of the sky. Now, only two embers remained: one buried deep in the heart of the Obsidian Spire, the other flickering faintly in the chest of a girl who did not know her name.
She awoke beneath a sky split in two.
One half burned crimson, the other wept silver mist. The earth cracked like old parchment, and from the fissures rose whispers—voices not of men, nor beasts, but of memory itself. Her fingers curled around a shard of obsidian, warm to the touch, humming with a rhythm that matched her pulse.
She didn’t remember how she got here. She remembered nothing—not her mother’s lullaby, not the sound of her first breath, not even the shape of her face in the still pools of long-dead lakes.
Only the ember.
And the dream.
“When the twins fall, the world will wake,” the dream whispered. “But not as it was. Not as it should be.”
She sat up. The shard pulsed. Her reflection shimmered within it—not a face, but a storm: a woman with hair like flame and eyes like dying stars.
“You’re not real,” she said, voice cracked from disuse.
But the reflection smiled.
And spoke.
“I am you. I am what was lost. I am what was never meant to be found.”
She stumbled to her feet, wind tearing at her tattered cloak—the color of dust and midnight. Around her, ruins of a cathedral rose from the earth, its spires fused with bone and blackened iron. The name carved into its fallen arch read: Aetherion.
Her hand trembled as she touched the stone. A vision tore through her:
A war not of swords, but of light.
Two beings—twin stars forged in fire—clashing in the sky. One wore the face of a god, the other… a child.
She gasped.
And the ember screamed.
From the east, a sound like a thousand bells made of glass. A procession of shadows moved across the horizon—hooded figures with eyes of ash, marching in silence. Their chants were not in any tongue, but in absence. In silence.
She turned to flee—then stopped.
Because behind her, in the west, a new light rose.
Not silver. Not gold.
Blue.
And from it stepped a man—tall, scarred, wearing armor of woven wind and memory. In his hand, a sword without a blade. Its hilt bore the same mark as the shard in her palm.
“Eira,” he said, voice like wind over graves. “You’ve come at last.”
She stepped back. “Who are you?”
He looked at her, and for the first time, his face cracked—just slightly.
“I was your father,” he said. “And I thought I’d buried you with the world.”
The ground trembled. The sky split again.
And from the ember in her hand, a voice rose—not hers, not his.
“The first ember dies. The second awakens. The war begins.”
To Be Continued in Part 2: "The Blood of the Twin Suns"
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