Just 3 days after the official presentation of Microsoft Windows XP, the buzz around it only continued to grow. As expected, it garnered massive attention across every major media outlet—TV news segments ran dedicated coverage, newspapers featured front-page articles, and tech magazines published in-depth analyses. All of them were talking about Windows XP and what it meant for the future of computing. The consensus was clear: this wasn't just another operating system; it marked a monumental leap forward from Windows 94.
With its modern design, improved functionality, and groundbreaking features, people everywhere were excited about what it represented. It wasn't just tech enthusiasts who were paying attention—everyday users were captivated too. Conversations were happening in offices, classrooms, cafes, and online forums. Many viewed Windows XP as more than just software—it was a symbol of progress, a glimpse into the digital future. The PC era was no longer crawling; it was now racing ahead, and everyone wanted to be a part of it.
Meanwhile, in the gaming community, the excitement was off the charts. The showcase of Diablo 2 sent ripples of hype across the globe, and players were beyond thrilled by what they had seen. In countries like the United States, South Korea, and China, fan engagement exploded overnight. ZAGE's official forums were flooded with posts, threads, and theories. Every corner of the online gaming world was alive with Diablo 2 talk—speculations, wishlists, fan theories, and enthusiastic breakdowns of every frame shown during the presentation.
Even in countries where the PC gaming market was still emerging, like Japan, curiosity had taken hold. The game's global appeal was undeniable, and players from all backgrounds were now paying close attention. Discussions delved deep into the game's potential classes and character builds. Gamers analyzed class synergy, debating the strengths of the Barbarian versus the Sorcerer or how a Druid could be optimized for endgame content.
What truly captured everyone's imagination was the complex and rewarding system involving Runes and Runewords.. The depth of customization promised something revolutionary, and for many, it was the exact kind of intricate system they had been craving. The sheer scale of possibilities made it feel like every playthrough could be drastically different. This idea alone sent waves of excitement through the community, leaving players more eager than ever to get their hands on the game.
One of the forum users said, "I can't wait to play this with my bro! We're going to duo the whole game together" Another excited player added, "I honestly can't believe how amazing the graphics in Diablo 2 are—the atmosphere is exactly what I dreamed of. This is an instant buy for me, no question!"
More and more users flooded the threads with reactions. Some praised the lighting and visual effects, calling them "cinematic and moody in the best way possible," while others marveled at the sound design and how it heightened the game's immersive tone. One user posted, "The game gives off such a dark, haunting vibe. I got chills watching that trailer!"
Then came a post that sparked laughter and speculation alike: "Will Doomguy appear in this game!?" because of Zaboru stunt in the showcase
The hype wasn't just strong—it was a cultural moment. Diablo 2 had officially taken over the conversation.
And this showcase became incredibly viral Because of this overwhelming exposure, many households and individuals who had previously shown little to no interest in PC gaming suddenly found themselves intrigued. People who had never considered owning a gaming PC were now seriously contemplating the purchase.
There was a newfound curiosity—not just about the game itself, but about the potential of the personal computer as a versatile entertainment and productivity hub. Even though high-performance PCs came with a hefty price tag, the general sentiment was that it was a worthwhile investment. Consumers realized that a powerful PC wasn't just a machine for gaming; it could also serve countless other purposes—like work, education, creative pursuits, and communication. This broader realization helped push PC sales even further, with many retailers reporting a noticeable uptick in demand.
Meanwhile, Hikaru Kurata sat silently in his office, watching the news broadcast on the large wall-mounted television. His brows furrowed, a clear sign of his frustration. Seeing ZAGE receive yet another advantage in the video game industry stung—especially with how deeply it impacted the PC gaming sector. Sonaya, his own company, had attempted to enter the PC space multiple times but failed to make any significant traction. Their PC game division had long since stagnated, with little innovation or enthusiasm remaining.
Right now, Hikaru and his executive team were scrambling to shift their focus. Instead of attempting to compete head-to-head in the PC space, they had redirected their energy into salvaging the Game Station, their flagship console. The problem was that the console's market share and public appeal had been steadily declining, and their latest lineup of titles had failed to inspire excitement among gamers.
Hikaru clenched his fists and muttered under his breath, "Zaboru… Damn it!" His voice was low but sharp with resentment. He hated feeling powerless, but that's exactly what ZAGE had reduced him to—a spectator in an industry his company that he really want to be ahead.
What infuriated him the most wasn't just Zaboru's popularity or flair; it was the way ZAGE continued to move forward, constantly evolving and adapting while Sonaya gaming kept their second place Every step ZAGE took seemed to widen the gap, and Hikaru knew that.
Meanwhile, in the sleek, minimalist office of Apple's headquarters, Steve Jobs stared intently at the news playing on a nearby monitor. Footage from the Microsoft event looped on-screen. "Quite frankly, Microsoft really outdid themselves this time," he muttered, visibly irked. "But as Apple, we can't afford to fall behind."
Steve leaned back in his chair, already sketching out ideas in his head for their next big leap—an operating system that could surpass Windows XP not just in form, but in function and cultural relevance. He began outlining plans for a new version of macOS, something elegant yet powerful. But as he did, one lingering thought kept distracting him: the games.
"Why did they showcase games as their main attraction?" he asked himself aloud, perplexed. Steve wasn't a gamer, nor did he have any particular fondness for video game development, but even he couldn't deny that gaming had become a central pillar of modern entertainment—and, increasingly, technology itself.
The part that baffled him even more was how Bill Gates had taken a backseat during the event, giving the spotlight to Zaboru from ZAGE. "Bill must have lost his edge," Steve said quietly. "Letting someone else take the limelight at such a pivotal moment? That's not the Gates I used to know."
He chuckled under his breath, then leaned forward with a spark in his eye. "Maybe we need to get into gaming too. Not just run games on Mac—actually make them."
His voice gained confidence. "And unlike Microsoft, who needed to team up with ZAGE, Apple will do it on our own. After all, how hard can game development be? If a company like ZAGE can pump out two or three games a month, surely Apple—with its innovation, design, and resources—can match or exceed that."
Steve nodded to himself, energized by the idea. But practicality returned just as quickly. First, Apple needed to stabilize its hardware and OS roadmap. Only then, once the core of the company was solid, could they seriously consider stepping into the arena of game development.
Still, the seed was planted. And once a seed was planted in Steve Jobs' mind, it rarely stayed dormant for long.
to be continue