The game ARC Raiders is a PvPvE extraction shooter, not the type of game that I usually enjoy because it sets up a kind of competitive landscape that breeds toxicity. However, I’ve discovered an interesting bend to this type of behavior in the people I’ve met I didn’t expect: kinship amidst adversity.

It’s an old pattern: nothing bonds strangers faster than a shared threat. The ARCs are doing a lot of social heavy lifting here, whether the designers planned it that way or not.

ARC Raiders is set in a post apocalyptic Italy so I feel as if it’s appropriate to set my mind and commentary within that virtual setting to explain the cultural nuance of kindness when you’re anonymous and carry a virtual gun.

Of course, to explain the jargon with alacrity: the PvP means “player vs. player” — people who go into the field can and will kill you when they see you — with their guns, explosives and crowbars. However, at the same time the “vE” refers to versus environment or enemy.

ARC Raiders launched October 30, 2025, from Embark Studios, the Stockholm-based team behind The Finals, and has spent the months since quietly earning a reputation as one of the more surprising multiplayer releases in recent memory. It won Best Multiplayer Game at The Game Awards 2025. I’m late to it. I think that’s fine.

Patrolling the map are ARCs, hostile intelligent machines that wander topside, whereas humanity has been forced underground to avoid these murderous metal menaces. They run the gamut from spider-like face-huggers, rolling explosives, flying quadcopter drones with gatling guns, larger drones with rocket pods, to huge spider-tank walkers bristling with firepower.

Raiders, as those survivors who brave the outside surface world are called, sift through the wreckage of civilization trying to discover the activity of these terrible machines and return with useful materials.

That out of the way, let me get to the core of my expertise. Human culture. I am used to games such as Escape from Tarkov where generally if you run into another person they shoot you in the face — not so in ARC Raiders — nine times out of ten they will call out to you in a plea for safety or call for fire support.

“Don’t shoot!” “I’m friendly.” “Hello raider!”

Within 30 minutes of playing, I ran into a newly veteran raider who gave me what seemed like a rare item (an orange traversal zipline hook) and a hatch key that enables quick escape from the map without having to do the extraction timer at certain exits. He even escorted me to an exit.

On only one occasion did I run into a player who wordlessly killed me. No reward for him; I had nothing on me. He looted my corpse for a gun and a handful of ammo.

Numerous other encounters evolved into running into someone else. Emoting a “don’t shoot” or “hello” and then moving on, or a short conversation — either in words or in bullets aimed at an ARC, then a brief check to make sure both parties were safe before moving apart.

Quick observations in the long afterglow

In total, I have only played the game a scant three hours over the weekend. The three people I have talked to so far have said, in words paraphrased: I am a friendly player, I only return fire to defend myself.

The presence of the PvP aspect of the game adds a layer of danger, an opportunity for hostility in the wasteland, rather than a decree. You’re not promised that the silhouette running near you is friendly, but so far I can’t say that most players want to kill anyone.

And people who kill others on maps are seen as “griefers,” an insult borne against members who break unwritten rules in gaming. Particularly, it’s the spree killers — players who make a sport of cutting down as many fellow raiders as possible — who draw the community’s contempt. Although there is no rule against killing other players (the ability to kill is written into the core of gameplay) it is naetheless largely seen as a faux pas.

This is what communities do inside designed systems: they write rules the designers didn’t. The game gives you a gun and permission to use it on anyone. The players, collectively and without a meeting or a vote, decided that wasn’t the point. That’s not a small thing.

There’s something worth sitting with in all of this. These people didn’t know me. I didn’t know them. We were armed, anonymous, and under no obligation to be decent to one another. Most of them were anyway. I’ll continue playing and see if or how this continues to bear out in the community at large — but I suspect the wasteland has already told me something true.

Image: Embark Studios