"I have to kill them before they kill me": In just one week, Arc Raiders has ruined my ability to trust, and the killer robots aren't even the problem
Now Playing | Arc Raiders is great, less so the people who play it – and now that includes me.
"Don't shoot!" is quickly becoming the Arc Raiders community's equivalent of "hello". Two rattling scavengers spy each other across the courtyard of rubble and freeze in place. Eyes narrow. Fingers twitch towards holstered rifles. Tumbleweed rolls between them. This is the moment where it can go one of two very different ways – either a tentative call for peace and cooperation in this harsh wasteland, or a sudden barrage of bullets. It all comes down to this instant. But... Can't we all just get along?
Apparently not. And after too many nights of trying to be the best version of myself, I'm ready to embrace my villain origin story. You might hate me, Arc Raiders community, but keep in mind: you made me this way.
A stranger's just a friend you haven't met
Arc Raiders has made me fall in love with getting my ass kicked by giant robots
My first exposure to Arc Raiders was during the tester beta weekend, and back then, all bets were off. The idea of cooperating with other players? Laughable. The game made some mumbling insistence that not every encounter had to end in bloodshed, that there could be forged friendships in the wasteland, but it was hard to hear that over the sound of half the players attempting to murder the other half.
But things were apparently different when the full game came out, as a friend who had already sunk a bunch of hours into Arc Raiders explained to me. Yes, playing on teams was a bit more likely to turn into a shootout, he admitted, but playing by yourself? "I've never been attacked in solos", he assured me, seeing how twitchy and nervous I was at the mere idea that other players could be skulking nearby. To hear him tell it, it was all inspiring stuff – Raiders meeting each other in the apocalypse and, through their shared humanity, overcoming its greatest challenges together.
Not only that, the accepted etiquette for these unexpected meetups was already clear – the moment you see another player, you hit the "Don't Shoot" emote like your life depends on it (because it does) and wait for the other side to do the same. Assuming they echo your response, at that point you can either be about your way, or if you're feeling companionable, open up the proximity chat and suggest some jolly cooperation. Hey, there's a kaiju-sized Omnidroid prowling nearby, let's go jump it together and share the rewards!
Well, that all sounds rather pleasant, I thought. A cooperative game forming organically through basic human goodness and common sense. I see absolutely nothing that could possibly go wrong with this idea.
Journal of a wasteland scavenger
Day 1: Saw Raider, waved hello. Was gunned down immediately. Perhaps language barrier issue? Downloaded Duolingo to be safe.
Weekly digests, tales from the communities you love, and more
Day 2: Saw Raider, ran away this time. Spotted by robots while fleeing. Bots tasered me, then the Raider caught up and beat me with hammers. Pretty sure I heard him cackling over proximity chat. Declared "mixed feelings" in post-mission feedback.
Day 3: Saw Raider, shouted for him not to shoot. Forgot to say anything about throwing grenades. Doctor says legs can probably be reattached.
Day 4: Saw Raider. Tried to hide behind parked car, accidentally set off its alarm. Spent ten minutes playing cat and mouse around an office block and shouting for him not to shoot me. Then he shot me. Deleted Duolingo.
Day 5: Raider shouted not to shoot! Felt briefly hopeful, but turns out he was saying that to a previously unrevealed third party, who shot us both. Feelings remain mixed. Pet chicken back home found spare change under couch cushions. Speranza authorities are considering promoting him instead of me.
Day 6: Saw Raider, shouted not to shoot. Then he shouted the same thing back! Tentative greetings before we agreed to team up. Feeling fresh hope for humanity. Just found some very good loot, and I'm sure my new friend wouldn't possibly turn on m-
Day 7: Shotgun wound not yet healed. Chicken threatening to fire me if I don’t meet quota. Humanity deserves everything the clankers do to it.
At this point any trust I could've had for other players in Arc Raiders has been reduced to viscera-flecked powder. Now when I see another player, I'll either dive for cover, or open fire, with no attempt to negotiate.
And let's be clear about my motivations – it's not spite, it's terror, reinforced by a thousand hideous experiences. I'm not a moustache-twirling villain, I'm a scared animal! It's a preemptive first strike! Everything I've endured has hammered home that I have to kill them before they kill me! And yes, once or twice players have seemed on the level about being cool. But then again, I've been fooled before! And the better the loot I've found, the less willing I am to take the risk of being betrayed.
It's all cycles of violence, I suppose, but hey – at least this cruel monster is making it back to Speranza with a backpack full of phone chargers and dog collars. I regret nothing.
Check out our list of the best shooter games for more run-and-gun fun!

Joel Franey is a writer, journalist, podcaster and raconteur with a Masters from Sussex University, none of which has actually equipped him for anything in real life. As a result he chooses to spend most of his time playing video games, reading old books and ingesting chemically-risky levels of caffeine. He is a firm believer that the vast majority of games would be improved by adding a grappling hook, and if they already have one, they should probably add another just to be safe. You can find old work of his at USgamer, Gfinity, Eurogamer and more besides.
You must confirm your public display name before commenting
Please logout and then login again, you will then be prompted to enter your display name.


