It sounds like GTA Online could have a life after GTA 6 – but after 400 hours in Los Santos, I'm ready to say goodbye

This April will mark 10 years since GTA 5 launched on PC, and in that decade, I've seen more Los Santos sunsets than real ones. That's largely thanks to GTA Online, in which I've sunk nearly 400 hours into running heists, building business empires, and generally being a nuisance to the long-suffering friends who've joined me for the ride.

I tend to slip back into GTA Online for a few weeks every year – often in summer, when cruising through Blaine County feels right – but it's felt rather strange of late. In 2023, the reveal of GTA 6 called the future of GTA Online into question. Will it step aside to clear space for its successor, or remain as a space for those unwilling to say goodbye just yet?

Strauss Zelnick, head of Rockstar's parent company Take-Two, has since waded in to not-quite answer that. Speaking earlier in the month, Zelnick claimed the publisher has "shown a willingness to support legacy titles when a community wants to be engaged with them," and "generally speaking, we support our properties when the consumers are involved with those titles."

Though Zelnick seems to have thrown a lifeline out to fans who have found a second home in Los Santos, I'm conflicted. A decade of its shenanigans make Rockstar's opportunity for a clean slate all the more appealing – and although GTA Online has come to mean a great deal to me, I'm ready to say goodbye and head to swampier shores.

Friends and criminals

GTA Online was the first current-gen game I played on the first PC I ever built. I can still remember the giddy rush of robbing convenience stores for petty cash, cackling with friends as we fled for the hills with five-star wanted levels. I couldn't believe a game could look so good, and even now, I'll stop what I'm doing to admire Los Santos' golden-drizzle sunsets, or the way rain splashes off tarmac streets and beats on windshields.

I was rarely alone. Though I'd nip online for solo gun deals when the grind really held me in thrall, for the most part I'd play with company. Sessions would begin productively – we'd tackle longer heists, or stuff our warehouses with ill-gotten gains to sell – but as they bled into the early hours of the morning, our goals would become a little less-defined. Games within games formed. We invented the sport of Dooring – that is, to dive out of a moving car with the goal of hitting someone with its still-open door – and perfected the comedic timing of switching the station to Rebel Radio when least-expected. Often, though, we'd end up going for aimless drives, lounging in each other's properties, or sitting on top of a freight train that would carry us around the countryside. As more pals joined our criminal enterprises during the Covid-19 pandemic, it became clear that GTA Online was a social sandbox first and foremost.

There are likely thousands of little micro-communities like ours in GTA Online, not to mention the custom roleplay servers where players have learned to coexist in Los Santos at a grander scope. Whatever shape GTA 6's online mode takes, that social element will persevere – especially given Rockstar now owns multiplayer modders FiveM – and the thought of changing scenery with friends in-tow takes much of the sting out of leaving Vinewood.

From a more mechanical perspective, a clean break from GTA Online offers Rockstar a chance to approach its live service model with a clean slate. Can you imagine a more grounded sandbox, one that didn't jump the shark with missile-spewing flying motorbikes? GTA Online walked face-first into power creep – and despite a series of well-intentioned nerfs, never quite untangled itself from that particular mess. It's an opportunity to take a decade of learnings, and apply them from the beginning – something many studios would likely kill for.

On the other hand, there's an argument to be made that GTA Online has simply grown too large to be ignored. For those who have sunk real-world money into pricey properties and flashy vehicles, abandoning it all will feel all the harder – and if Rockstar does keep servers up, I can certainly see many players sticking with what they know. Personally, I'm ready to move on. Closing the chapter on 400 hours of progress will sting, but the thought of starting anew and making more memories (hopefully with less flying death bikes) makes saying goodbye easier. Regardless of how or when we leave Los Santos, it's worth remembering that we can choose to take its best bits – us – to wherever comes next.

While I'm hyped for GTA 6, my biggest fear is that it's already dated itself