“Sir? A trio are here requesting…”
Scarlette’s voice trails off as the door opens sufficiently to reveal Chance Ravinne’s back facing the door, his gaze resting upon the framed poster to his right. The CEO spins around in his chair, definitely _not_ wiping a single tear from his cheek.
“Send them in, Scarlette. Thank you.”
“Another rough one, sir? I know you were hoping the big E3 announcement might disclose progress towards Legion… Nova… whatever they’re calling the Dust 514 successor.”
“Frankly, yes,” Chance replies softly. “The Academy is nice, but they’re no Eve Uni. And have you seen Battlefront? This is what Dust/Legion/Nova is up against. This. CCP can’t be the ‘coolest sci-fi shooter.’ It won’t happen. The appeal of Dust is first-and-foremost its integration into and influence over the EVE Universe. One universe, one war. The technology, systems, gameplay and lore are almost irrelevant. Ask 500 gamers if they can name a single ship, faction, or solar system in EVE Online. They can’t. Ask those same 500 gamers if they’d like to be able to put virtual bullets in the backs of capsuleers during the EVE wars they’ve read IGN articles about…”
Chance clenches his fist, then relaxes his grip.
“Sorry, sir. I know how difficult it has been since you discovered the glimmer of hope in Echoes was a mirage.”
“Anyway, who’s this next trio, Scarlette? I don’t recall seeing anything on my calendar.”
“Um…. I’m not exactly sure, sir. One said his name is Blunt, and the other grumbled something in a thick Polish accent. I wasn’t able to catch her name. The third gave me this card and said you would welcome them without an appointment.”
Chance reached out his hand and took the monochrome business card. “Allen Edwards,” he read quietly.
A broad smile spread across the CEO’s face.
“Send them in and cancel the rest of my appointments today, Scarlette. This may be the best day of my life since the neut Cruors were born. Whatever CCP stepped in must really stink if the ‘unannounced projects’ team out of London is ready to talk.”
