The gaming industry has been rocked by a wave of uncertainty following the recent mass layoffs at Microsoft’s Xbox division, and Obsidian Entertainment has found itself at the heart of the resulting storm. In the aftermath of these cuts, a flurry of speculative reports and “hot takes” flooded social media, attempting to analyze the health, direction, and long-term future of the studio. While some observers suggested that the company has lost its spark or wandered too far from its roots, Brandon Adler, a director currently leading an unannounced project at the studio, decided he had finally seen enough. Taking to LinkedIn, he pushed back against the armchair critics, labeling them “cold take artists” who are aggressively spreading misinformation about an organization they simply do not understand.
For the team at Obsidian, this wasn’t about public image; it was a period of genuine grief. Adler’s message was deeply personal, focusing first and foremost on the loss of his colleagues and friends. He described the week as an incredibly difficult experience, moving far beyond the professional impact of downsizing to highlight the human toll of letting go of talented friends. In a show of solidarity, he championed those who had been let go, urging other studios to snap them up, noting that they are among the best developers in the business. His frustration with the online discourse stemmed from a place of defensive love for his coworkers, as he watched outsiders pass judgment on the studio’s identity while the people who actually built that identity were dealing with the trauma of unemployment.
The crux of the public criticism has been the recurring trope that “Obsidian isn’t who they used to be.” Adler didn’t deny that time has changed the studio, but he fundamentally rejected the idea that the studio’s spirit has been hollowed out. He pointed to a clear, tangible “through line” that stretches back two decades to titles like Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic II. According to Adler, the narrative that the “old guard” is gone is demonstrably false. He noted that many of the leaders and directors currently steering the helm of the studio are the very same individuals who shaped beloved classics like Fallout: New Vegas, Pillars of Eternity, and The Outer Worlds. For him, these aren’t just legacy names; they are the active pulse of the company today.
Adler admitted that a studio cannot—and should not—remain frozen in 2004. Growth, evolution, and change are inevitable, and he expressed pride in how the team has expanded and matured to meet the demands of modern development. However, he insisted that the core DNA of the studio remains identical. Whether it was the creation of Neverwinter Nights 2 or The Stick of Truth, the foundational philosophies of creative autonomy, deep narrative, and player-driven choices have remained consistent. He isn’t just looking backward at their illustrious history with nostalgia; he is looking forward with genuine excitement, confident that who they have become is the natural, healthy evolution of the team that started it all.
Much of the external panic fueling these reports stemmed from rumors surrounding the studio’s project slate, particularly claims that plans for an Avowed sequel had been scrapped in favor of shifting resources toward a new Fallout title. These rumors contributed to the narrative that the studio was in a state of chaos, potentially forced into pivoting by internal failure. However, those on the inside offer a much more stable perspective. Chris Avellone, a former co-founder, chimed in to suggest that reports of a permanent cancellation were premature, noting that the Avowed sequel is still very much in the cards and simply waiting for the right moment to be re-pitched once the organizational dust settles.
Ultimately, Adler’s reaction serves as a reminder to the gaming community that there is a human element behind every headline and every speculation piece. When we analyze the direction of a studio, it is easy to view it as a corporate entity that exists purely for the sake of our entertainment, but Adler’s plea serves to humanize the developers behind the keyboard. He asks for a bit more empathy and a lot more accuracy, reminding us that the people creating our favorite worlds are currently navigating a deeply painful transition. As he continues his work on a secret project, his focus remains on protecting the integrity of his team and ensuring that the work they do is judged by those who actually know the effort it takes to build it.