Live-service games are the wild west of contemporary gaming—full of potential, but full of means to crash and burn. One minute, you’re riding a wave of hype; the next, your servers are empty and your subreddit is filled with disappointment. Just look at Last Epoch. It had a strong foundation, a passionate community, and real potential to become the next big thing in the action RPG scene. But somewhere along the way, communication fumbled, content slowed, and the momentum stalled.
It all started with excitement. Last Epoch came in with hype, with players wanting to believe they were seeing the emergence of a new ARPG titan. The gameplay? Good. The systems? Profound and promising. But how did the studio—Eleventh Hour Games—communicate with players and make content updates? That’s where the cracks began to appear. Okay, sure, monthly updates did eventually drop to patch over the radio silence, but by that time, the damage had been done. Game players had waited too long for substantial news regarding the next large content cycle, and most were already disinterested or gone.
It was a classic case of “too little, too late.” In the live-service model, you can’t ever take a break, not even temporarily. So when EHG promoted Immortal Uprising as a “Major Update,” the hype was astronomical. But when players finally realized what was inside, they were left scratching their heads—this was major? The dissonance between the marketing hype and the content that showed up left many of the players shortchanged. And when your entire business model is based on long-term retention, that sort of letdown can be a kiss of death.
Even the patch notes became a thorn. Fans observed that EHG would sometimes release inflated version numbers in update news, making it appear larger than it was. When update 1.1.1 dropped, for example, it did little more than simply unlock features that had been promised since day one, with some added bug fixes. It was more of a hotfix than an actual update. The real big alterations didn’t come until 1.1.2, but by this time, the excitement had already dissipated.
Hotfixes began well, but sputtered past 1.1.3. That generally means the dev team has moved on to the next large update, which would be acceptable if the following update wasn’t being continually pushed back. Core aspects such as factions and UI modifications were teased, delayed, and teased once more. When the basics constantly fall behind, it gives a resounding message: priorities may not be where they need to be.
From the player’s perspective, the post-launch content reduced to a new cycle of gameplay that had a straightforward mechanic, a boss, and loot lizards. That’s insufficient in a universe where other games—such as Torchlight: Infinite—are releasing more in-depth, more regular updates. And once individuals start muttering that a game is “dead,” it’s difficult to shift that narrative.
And it’s not only the content itself—how that content is delivered is equally important. Most players aren’t reading Discord notices or forums; they’re visiting Steam or the website. If those aren’t painting the complete picture—or incomplete, like Last Epoch’s website so often is—it’s not hard for hobby players to lose enthusiasm. Following 1.0, EHG had to change course from gaining attention to retaining it. That switch never completed.
The reality is, games with redemption paths such as Cyberpunk 2077 or No Man’s Sky are not common. The majority of games that have a rough start don’t receive a second opportunity, even if the devs work tirelessly after that. The space in gaming is saturated. If your live-service game falters, a dozen others are ready to pick up your players.
Last Epoch is a warning to every studio considering diving into the live-service dive. Communication isn’t a choice—it’s necessary. Hype the hell out of content and fail to deliver, and it destroys trust quicker than any crash or shattered skill ever has. And in this world, where players demand both quality and quantity, you can’t take your time to get things right. You need to be out in front—talking clearly, patching often, and demonstrating that you get what your players need.
Because in a live service, you’re not going to get a second first impression. If you’re going to succeed, you’re going to have to nail the fundamentals right—and continually refine from there.