Feb 7, 2014 - DeeJ

This week at Bungie, we set out on a vital scouting mission.





When I say “we,” what I really mean is “Me and Urk.” Our destination was England, for some strategic ops - a needlessly fancy way of describing a series of big meetings. The who, the where, and the why are best kept secret, for now. Suffice to say, we’re assembling a global coalition that will help us launch this game.





Our adventure began on Super Bowl Sunday. While the rest of Seattle enjoyed a multiplayer game of epic proportions, Team Bungie moved through SeaTac airport with passports in hand, cases of exotic gear in tow, and our own matching uniforms on our backs. That’s a common yet unplanned occurrence at Bungie – an occupational hazard when half your wardrobe is company gear. Needless to say, we stood out like sore thumbs from all the Seahawks fans wearing their own colors.













“Bungie in the HOUSE!” observed the security agent who inspected our boarding passes. “I’m expecting big things from Destiny,” he insisted as he stamped our papers. “Don’t let me down.”





It was an auspicious beginning to our journey. The home-field advantage had paid off. The world was taking notice of our ambitious little project. Twelve hours, one stop in New York, and four in-flight movies later, we arrived in London. Only steps away from the jetway, I was greeted by a reminder that our job is far from done.





A British customs agent was surveying the paperwork I’d filled out in a bid to enter his country. He cocked one amused brow over his scrutinizing gaze. “Bungie…” he said. “Bungie, Bungie, Bungie... Oh, how I gave so many hours of my life to that Halo game.”





“I hope you feel like you got something in return,” I offered, with a decade of my own war stories whispering from the back of my sleep-deprived mind.





“Certainly,” he agreed, and pivoted right back to negotiating my prompt release into his corner of the wild. “Business or pleasure?”





“Business. Sir.”





“The business of Halo?”





“No, Sir. We’re working on a new game.”





“Is that right?”





“Yes, Sir. You just might find it worth some more hours of your life.”





And that, my friends, is why we leave the safety of our home. There are still more of you to reunite in the last safe city on Earth. We’ll spend the next seven months trying to find all of you, so that we may rebuild our community underneath the Traveler.





This week, those errands cast a bit of a shadow over our blog. It interrupted mail service, the usual parade of profiles, and the very feature you might have expected to usher in your weekend. When all this plotting and scheming blossoms into the rhythm of our war drums, you’ll fully understand the purpose of our occasional silence.





For now, know that we’re on our way home. As these words infiltrate the Internet, we are seated in the sky, bound for our point of origin. We’ll be talking to you again next week in the ways you might expect. The conversation with the rest of our team will resume, and we’ll catch you up on the magic they’ve been wielding in our absence.





We’re wondering what they’ve been up to as much as you are. We miss them as much as we’re missing out on the team meeting that was planned for today. We’re looking forward to getting caught up on their progress, and breaking off a hint or two to share with you.





You’re welcome to use this time to ask us a question about all that. We just might stop by to answer some of your mail before the next proper moment when we open the Sack.





Talk to you again soon, when we’re free to move about the studio.