Look, the reason Concord crashed and burned isn’t some deep philosophical mystery. It’s because the game simply wasn’t good enough to survive in a genre that’s already stacked with better, cheaper options.

It launched with no real identity. Everything about it felt like a watered-down version of other hero shooters, same structure, same archetypes, none of the charm. Characters were forgettable, abilities didn’t mesh well with the modes, and the balance was all over the place. The movement was slow, the time-to-kill was absurdly long, and fights dragged on like you were playing in molasses. That’s not “a bold design choice,” that’s just poor pacing.

Then you add the fact that they tried to charge forty bucks for something that, by every metric, should’ve been free-to-play. On top of that, content was thin at launch. Maps were bland, the mode selection was tiny, and there wasn’t enough variety to keep anyone invested. When a live-service shooter launches with barely anything to do, the writing is already on the wall.

Players didn’t walk away because they “didn’t give it a chance.” They walked away because the game gave them no reason to stay. Sales were abysmal, concurrency numbers cratered immediately, and Sony pulled the plug in record time. That’s not player bias or community toxicity; that’s a product failing on its own merits.

You can dress it up however you want, but the reality stands: Concord entered a crowded market with nothing special to offer, priced itself like it was a premium experience, and then delivered something that felt half-thought-out and generic. It wasn’t some misunderstood masterpiece. It was just a bad game.