Three days of closed beta testing passed in a flash.
The moment the countdown hit zero, Robert and all the players felt an irresistible force pull their consciousness from the bodies of the Astra Militarum Soldier. However, the anticipated feeling of returning to their original bodies on Earth did not occur.
Their consciousness seemed to penetrate a thin membrane, arriving in a bizarre space of shifting light. All around them, colors and light and shadow constantly churned, merged, and separated, like an overturned paint palette, or the nascent birth of a cosmic nebula, filled with indescribable chaos and beauty.
The players were momentarily stunned, but soon, they all noticed the strange creature floating before them. It seemed to be composed of countless shimmering data streams and light, its form constantly changing, difficult to accurately describe in human language.
Just as everyone was filled with doubt and surprise, the creature emitted a gentle voice. Although it had no mouth, the voice resonated directly in each person's mind.
"Hello, my name is Terrabyte, and I am the game developer for this game. This is the post-closed beta feedback session. Do you have anything you'd like to say or ask? I will answer everything I know."
"Game dev?"
"A game dev looks like that?"
The players exchanged glances, but quickly accepted this premise.
Robert looked around and asked curiously, "This is... the warp designed by your development team? It looks like a paint palette..."
"That's right, this is the warp," Terrabyte admitted. "However, a thousand people see a thousand different warps. Different senses perceive different things. I've given you a cognitive filter, which is why it looks relatively 'normal' now.
In the future, never rush into the warp without the protection of a Gellar Field, or even if you're not devoured by the creatures within, the overwhelming flood of information alone would instantly overload your biological processors."
After speaking, Terrabyte added, "By the way, when you were in the game, you also had a cognitive filter on you the entire time. Its only purpose was to block discussions about 'games,' 'Warhammer,' and similar topics. What do you think of this filter? Is it necessary to remove it in future closed beta tests?"
Robert thought for a moment and was the first to speak: "I don't think it's necessary. This filter is quite good. Otherwise, if we accidentally started chatting and an NPC overheard us, thinking we were crazy or disloyal to the Imperium, being shot by a Commissar wouldn't be fun..."
"Alright, then it will remain as is in the future." Terrabyte readily adopted the suggestion.
At this moment, Ruthless Assassin eagerly raised his hand: "Friend system! I strongly demand a friend system!"
Terrabyte seemed to wave his hand, though to the players, his movement was just a ripple of light and shadow. "It's been arranged for you, take a look now!"
As soon as he finished speaking, a simple friend list interface appeared in the players' field of vision. Ruthless Assassin joyfully sent a friend request to Robert immediately.
After this urgent need was addressed, Robert then asked, "Regarding the death penalty system, I want to ask, how exactly does it work? Since your development team wants to create such a realistic game, there should be a self-consistent logic behind this death penalty, right?"
"Indeed," Terrabyte replied, "When a player dies and resurrects, their cognitive filter is replaced with a new one. In the eyes of all non-player beings, you, after resurrection, are already a completely new, unfamiliar individual. Therefore, they naturally wouldn't allow this 'stranger' to inherit the position, merits, and social connections of someone completely unrelated to him."
Robert's eyes lit up, and he immediately grasped the key: "But players won't be affected by this, right? To us players, he is still him."
"Of course."
"Then does this mean," Robert's speaking speed instantly quickened, "as long as we can form a unit composed entirely of players, and this unit's establishment is officially recognized by the Astra Militarum, then even if a player in the unit dies, as long as the player commander of that unit is willing, he can still return to his original post after resurrection?"
"Of course," Terrabyte replied affirmatively, "Theoretically, the appointment and removal of officers require approval from the Astra Militarum. But in reality, with the Astra Militarum's consistently astonishing casualty rates, the Astra Militarum has neither the time nor the capacity to manage the promotion and appointment of junior officers. In most cases, these are decided solely by the unit's commanding officer."
Hearing this answer, the other players once again admired Robert's keen thinking. At the same time, in Terrabyte's answer, they also felt the game's shockingly high degree of freedom—as the official game dev, he was actually allowing, even encouraging, players to exploit the rules and use various methods to circumvent the death penalty!
"I have a question," Cain, as an ogryn, also raised his hand at this point, "If I die and resurrect, will I still be an ogryn?"
"Changes in race and attributes are not part of the death penalty," Terrabyte replied seriously, "unless you plan to delete this character and create a new one."
"As for the resurrection point issue," without anyone else needing to ask, Terrabyte directly stated, "whether the resurrection point is fixed in a certain area or allows for on-the-spot resurrection depends on the thinness of the local reality veil. In areas where the reality veil is thick and stable, resurrection points cannot be established."
One player immediately reacted: "So, if we clear out all the cultists, reducing the warp intrusion in this area and thickening the reality veil, we won't be able to resurrect on the spot? After dying, we'll have to run back to our bodies to pick up our equipment?"
"Yes." Terrabyte gave an affirmative reply.
The players were once again stunned. This meant that their actions would directly influence the rules of the game world, a level of deep interaction they had never experienced in any game before.
At this moment, the player who had previously dared to try warhammer cuisine, whose ID was Maverick, spoke up.
"I also have a few questions," Maverick said. "Firstly, the game's data panel is too simplistic. Every time we're summoned, all we can see is our ID and some basic physical data, not even a skill tree. Is this how it was designed, or have we not reached the point where we can access skills?"
He paused, then asked his second question: "Also, I want to know if the server is still running after we log off? If the server is continuously running, do our characters just disappear from where they are, or do they go to sleep like NPCs?"
Terrabyte pondered for a moment, though to the players, he seemed to answer almost immediately.
"The skill issue was indeed an oversight on my part," Terrabyte's tone carried a hint of apology. "I will design a skill tree interface for you to help you more intuitively organize and plan your abilities. You should be able to see it by the second closed beta."
This answer invigorated the players. A skill tree meant growth paths and richer gameplay.
"As for your characters after you log off," Terrabyte continued, "this world is real and continuously operating. Your bodies, as the vessels for your consciousness, will naturally fall asleep once their operators are gone."
This answer surprised everyone. It meant that even if they logged off, their "characters" would not enter some safe vault, but would remain in place like ordinary sleeping soldiers. If their position was overrun while they were offline, the consequences would be unimaginable.
The realism and hardcore nature of this game once again exceeded their imagination.