The evolution of Marathon starts on December 8 with the launch of our next update, Symbiosis. We're opening the game to everyone during Open Play Week! https://t.co/zTwA9ZGrpm
A test render of my own Marathon skin concept, exploring how the ARTIXCUS Tesser Operator could look in-game. Combining clean industrial design, tactical detailing, monochromatic armor, and subtle bronze accents, this concept brings the Artixcus identity into @MarathonTheGame's futuristic universe.
@CoolRunnerCraig@asalisbury It just won a 2026 VEGA Digital award. ❤️ It was such a fun piece to work on and am still pinching myself that we effectively made "Thriller in Space". 🤘
NO MORE LOSE EVERYTHING FACTORY LETS GOOO!!!
Disclaimer: Instead it is an actual factory that manufactures 1 purple kit from 10 blue kits.
it is indeed still lose everything factory but I gotta cope somehow. 4 hours of cryo dried me a bit
@PapaTilly I haven’t really played during the S1, but from what I see game changed for the better since than. I have around bit more than 200h and still going strong.
Though if you have previous experience you can save yourself for the December 8th where lots of things will be introduced.
'Twas the Night Before Cryo 🧊
'Twas the night before Cryo, when all through the Marsh,
not a Runner was looting — the darkness too harsh.
The kits were all stocked in the Vault with great care,
in hopes that the Compiler soon would be there.
The Rooks were all nestled, low-stakes in their beds,
while visions of Vault keys danced in their heads;
and chat with their emotes, and I with my knife,
had just settled in for the worst night of my life.
When out on the comms there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my pod to see what was the matter.
Away to the cryo bay I flew like a flash,
tore open the hatch and spilled half of my stash.
The frost on the floor of that derelict deck
gave a shimmer of dread — I was already wrecked —
when what to my wondering visor should appear,
but a three-stack of sweats in their gold-tier gear.
Then a little old Runner, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than Wardens his blades they all came,
and he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name:
"Now, Traxus! Now, MIDA! Now, CyberAcme too!
On, Arachne! On, NuCal! Sekiguchi, come through!
To the top of the Archive, to the Compiler's hall!
Now stab away, stab away, stab away all!"
As loot that before a bad third-party flies,
when it meets with a shotgun, drops right where it lies,
so up to the vaults all the Runners they flew,
with a sack full of keys — and the butter knife too.
He was dressed all in chrome from his head to his boot,
and his shell was all tarnished with frostbite and soot;
a bundle of Enzymes was slung on his back,
and he looked like a looter just opening his pack.
His HUD, how it glitched! His shields, how they glowed!
His Cradle was buffed and his backpack o'erflowed.
The hilt of his blade he held tight in his teeth,
and the frost, it encircled his head like a wreath.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
and stabbed all the sweats, then he turned with a jerk;
then slotting a key in the vault door he chose,
and giving a nod, up the lift shaft he rose.
He sprang to the exfil, to his squad gave a whistle,
and away they all flew like a Misriah missile.
But I heard him exclaim as he dove through the light:
"Welcome back to the Factory — lose it all tonight! 🔪"
#StabFactory 🔪