Launch day dawned with an electric weight in the air, the kind that makes the whole world breathe together. Neuron City, which never truly slept, seemed to pause for a few moments: coffee shops packed with people pressing "buy now" on the digital store app; physical lines snaking for blocks; subway screens looping the official poster featuring the Spencer Mansion and the glittering date— March 27th.
LuxCore operated in cold war mode: crisis desks open, servers monitored by network generals, support teams ready to escalate.
Every microsecond of latency counted.
But that day, the real public square wasn't the avenue: it was the streams. And the largest of them all belonged to Airi Hoshizora.
Preparations — Aishizora's Broadcast
Airi began promoting the broadcast days in advance:
"LIVE SPECIAL — MIDNIGHT PLAYTHROUGH with a surprise guest: the game's creator himself. Don't miss it!"
Appeared on everyone's timelines. The announcement went viral.
In the minutes leading up to the start, the overlay for her broadcast was ready: Aishizora's watermark in the corner, widget counters for upcoming events (exclusive "AISHI-HEART" emojis), side panels with donations and goals, and a special box with "GUEST: Makoto Yoshida", a new feature that set the chat alight.
Airi opened the livestream with her usual calm and excitement. Sweetch's chat, so fast it felt like a particle storm, was already ablaze with GIFs, emotes, and repeated phrases.
"WELCOME, COMETS! Today is the day. Today is Resident Evil night. Makoto is here with me in the studio! He'll be joining us later, so get your questions ready!"
The moderators were already working: automatic commands, spoiler warnings, and a private Ziscord room for Airi's collaborators where she checked direct messages.
The counter in the corner of the screen showed 1.2M viewers on the Sweetch app, and simultaneously, the secondary stream on MeTube showed 4M to 8M depending on the peak.
In surround sound for those listening on headphones, the theme song, a minimalist version of the trailer, faded in, creating anticipation.
Backstage, Makoto prepared himself with the calm of someone who knows his own creation, but not its impact. He wore something simple, a dark shirt, his name tag discreet.
When he entered the studio, nervousness was visible for a moment in the corner of his eye, but then it turned into a contained smile. Airi welcomed him with a hug, and the audience saw:
"AISHI & MAKOTO — REDEFINING THE NIGHT".
Broadcast begins — first impressions
Airi started the game by choosing Jill Valentine.
"Because people LOVE a female protagonist who rocks."
She explained with a laugh. The overlay displayed the concurrent viewer count: 9.6M.
Chats exploded with "JILL MOM", "JILL BOSS", and emotes that attempted to convey the mix of affection and anticipation.
Makoto appeared in a panel on the right, via video call: small, discreet, with automatic captions and simultaneous translation into three languages. He briefly greeted the audience, thanked them for the invitation, and made a note that the chat loved:
"I'll avoid spoilers. I'll answer things that help you understand the process and what we're careful about. But I promise not to spoil the Mansion's discoveries."
The chat thanked him with a shower of hearts.
The initial presentation was technical and emotional: Airi commented on the graphic quality, how realistic the texture of the furniture was and the light breaking on the chandeliers, Makoto explained, in layman's terms and with analogies, how he worked with shaders and particles to create dirt, suspended dust and reflections that "told a story."
When he explained the care taken with dubbing, and quickly mentioned the names of the actors (Aya Kimura, Kaito Enomoto, Rina Shimizu, Toru Minase, Souta Kawabe), the chat responded with virtual applause and requests to follow the voice actors' profiles.
The first few hours of the game, the Mansion, the first zombie, the dog attack
Airi entered the Spencer Mansion's main door, the game camera slow and textured. The overlay emphasized: "FIRST ZONE: Lobby." The camera in Airi's feed showed her expression: wide-eyed, breath held, that mix of seasoned streamer and fan caught up in it.
The first sequence that drew the loudest "OHHHH" from the audience was the entrance to the east corridor : marble flooring, lined paintings, the echo of footsteps. The tension was built with silence: the game audio seemed like a presence of its own, the creak of a distant board, a crow's call outside. Makoto, in the frame, restricted himself to brief observations:
"Notice how we use silence as texture, not as an absence of sound, but as an element."
The first zombie appeared just as it did in the trailer: hunched over, with a wet shadow and a chewing sound. When the monster lifted its head and turned its face, the classic choreographic touch that heightened the tension, Airi let out a genuine scream, and the chat exploded with "AAAAAAAA" and fearful emotes. Thousands of clips were generated on the spot, which within minutes were circulating on other platforms.
Shortly after, the scene with the dogs arrived. Airi joked, a little nervously:
"I don't remember the dogs. I only saw them in the trailer. I'm already suffering."
And then came the window breaking, the glass shattering, the surprise was synchronized with the sound of the audience: several screams, and for a few seconds the spectator counter rose another two million.
Airi nearly had a heart attack; the reaction was so genuine that fans commented on how much more authentic the horror is when an experienced streamer actually jumps in fright. Makoto smiled shyly and said, into the microphone:
"Sorry, planned."
(The answer drew laughter and a thousand "PLANNED" GIFs in the chat.)
Airi, catching her breath, commented:
"You saw that the breathing and the sound presence… it's as if the Mansion had lungs."
The chat agreed with intensity.
Chat interactions — questions, choices, limits
One of the livestream's main attractions was the interaction between the audience, streamer, and creator. The chat was filled with questions, and Makoto chose a few to answer, dryly, carefully, and without spoilers:
@techno_sam: "Makoto, what engines did you use? Does this run on mid-range hardware?"
Makoto: "Internal hybrid pipeline, we optimized textures for scalability. We have graphics modes for different hardware, you don't need a top-of-the-line machine to feel the atmosphere."
@lorehound: "The Lisa Trevor scene was intense, does she have an expanded backstory?"
Makoto: "We keep the mystery. The history of the Mansion is revealed in fragments. Lisa is treated humanely, I won't give any spoilers."
@aishi_fan: "Put Jill in the alternate jacket that appears in the trailer!" *Airi laughed and changed her outfit in the customization menu, the community exploded in comments about aesthetics and storytelling through clothing.
Experienced Airi used the chat as a co-pilot: she asked for opinions on routes, suggested alternative routes, and laughed at the most absurd theories.
Makoto participated with meticulous restraint: he answered questions about design decisions (why move the piano? why does the lighting do such a thing?), but gracefully dodged whenever a follower asked for a spoiler.
There were moments of collective doubt:
"Should I open that door now or save resources?"
Airi asked, the chat debated, and Makoto said in a diplomatic tone:
"Be wary of what seems obvious. Sometimes the safest thing to do is observe."
This back-and-forth between knowing and not knowing fueled the livestream like a bonfire: shared emotions, laughter, chills, and a sense of belonging. Millions participating in a ritual.
Technical moment — dubbing and performance
At one point, Airi found a document in the second-floor office and read it aloud, the dubbing came in with Jill's dry, human timbre.
The chat buzzed when they recognized Aya Kimura 's voice , and fans began following and reposting snippets. Makoto explained, almost professorial in tone:
"We chose voice actors based on layers: presence, interpretation, and intentionality. Aya brought a firmness, Kaito brought warmth to Chris. And working with Hiroshi Daigo as director was crucial."
Airi, moved, said she was impressed by the emotional charge of a simple line read, the community responded with respect for the production, the comments varied between admiration and technical designs ("the mixing is impeccable, the positional noise…").
Puzzles and Small Victories — Moonlight Sonata and the Piano.
The livestream gave way to one of the trailer's most talked-about scenes: the piano puzzle with a musical variation inspired by what players were eager to discover. Airi entered the room, stared at the keys, and the chat began sending notes, fans suggesting sequels, others searching for memories from the trailer. Makoto smiled:
"The piano is a narrative node. It's not just a puzzle, it's a character. The sequence is a clue but also a test of attention and patience."
Airi played the correct sequence after two euphoric attempts. The sound echoed throughout the broadcast, and the audience erupted in clips, screams, and wild celebrations. Behind the scenes in the chat, fans began saying they would do covers, arrangements of the game version, remixes, and even created a community playlist.
A meeting with Lisa — the moment that silences.
Near the end of the livestreamed section, Airi, investigating an underground wing, caught a glimpse of Lisa Trevor , a brief glimpse hinted at by whispers in the mansion and only discoverable by those who look closely.
The scene wasn't a traditional jump scare; it was an apparition carrying tragedy. Airi, always performative, was silent for a few seconds, something rare for her extroverted persona. Makoto commented quietly:
"The intention was to provoke empathy, not just fear. Lisa is part of what the Mansion hides."
The chat, usually cacophonous, erupted into reverence: respectful messages, tributes to designs, and discussions about how humanized horror is more painful than the simple monster.
The end of the session — farewell, promises and plans
Airi ended the broadcast around 4 hours into the game, the audience remained in the tens of millions throughout, with peaks of 12M simultaneous viewers on Sweetch and more on aggregators.
She didn't finish the mansion; she couldn't. She promised to play more in the following days.
On the message board, messages for Makoto popped up: "AISHI SPEEDRUN", "AISHI & MAKOTO OTP?", "MAKOTO LOVES NERDS".
Before disconnecting, Airi opened the microphone for a quick thank you:
"Thank you everyone for today. Makoto, thank you for trusting me. It was an honor."
Makoto smiled, blushing, something the camera captured and the chat didn't miss:
"Thank you. You guys were amazing. And… thank you for your courage." (He avoided explaining, but the reference made sense to anyone who jumped into the dog attack scene.)
They said goodbye with promises of future live streams, and Airi left an invitation: "Makoto will be back, let's do a Q&A with the voice actors!" The chat exploded.
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After the livestream, Airi invited Makoto up to her apartment, an intimate gesture, a thread of rekindled friendship. Her room was cozy: LED panels with a soft palette, posters of old games, a bookshelf with plushies, and, of course, a tech corner with a mic and a gaming chair.
They sat with tea. Airi was still on high adrenaline: enchantment and amazement.
"Did you see the scene with the dogs? I jumped like a baby."
She laughed.
"You were amazing. The reaction was genuine and I… got goosebumps."
Makoto blushed, a little embarrassed:
"I planned the visual surprise, but I never expect anyone to react like this. It's nice to feel that..."
He hesitated.
"That I was able to touch people."
Airi looked at him with true admiration:
"You created this. There's no way this isn't art. It's unbelievable that a beginner could do something with this consistency. I'm so, so proud."
Makoto was shy, but the warmth of the statement strengthened him. They talked about processes: mornings at LuxCore, nights at SeedNet, the pressure of voice acting.
Airi recounted how, since middle school, she'd admired people who truly created worlds; Makoto spoke of his parents, the trauma with his stepfather, and how the game was, in a way, both an escape and a declaration.
The conversation flowed lightly, intimately, with laughter and small, comfortable silences. Before parting ways, they agreed: more streams, more Q&As, maybe a playdate with other creators.
The aftermath of the broadcast, domestic reactions, streamers, and echoes from the city.
As Airi descended into the darkness, the city was bustling on several fronts.
Players at home:
Families gathered in the living room: curious parents, teenagers excited by the artistic direction, grandparents observing the beauty of the scenery (and jumping at the first fright). Homemade clips went viral: children imitating Airi's reaction, grandparents frightened by the dogs, couples laughing and discussing puzzles like couples' riddles.
Collectors celebrated the physical editions. Stores reported lines that formed at dawn; some units sold out in minutes.
Gamers who purchased the digital version reported initial instability on purchase servers (latency, queues), but completed downloads brought immediate satisfaction: the first hours of gameplay were exciting and small controversies about character preferences dominated subreddits.
Streamers — waves and trends
Major streamers replicated part of the broadcast, reacting to the trailer and clips from Airi's livestream. Many invited friends to comment: "Did you see the dog jump? This is the moment!"
A group of creators made marathons: " Resident Evil Night " with collaborative marathons, economy challenges (play without using extra ammo), and even challenge modes (no saving, no melee weapons).
Speedrunners began snooping around the first routes, some discovered smaller "techs" that allowed them to bypass puzzles faster; speedrunning forums sprang up in hours.
Female streamers highlighted Jill as a strong protagonist, discussing female representation and the emotional response the character evoked. Hashtags like #JillIsLove and #JillMain went viral.
Memes were born everywhere: the GIF of Airi jumping was remixed with sound effects; remixes of the piano passage were posted by amateur musicians; fan art combining the Spencer Mansion with noir illustrations flooded the Tumblr equivalent.
Fan art of Jill with the word "Mother" in kanji gained pages of admirers.
Small communities began to dissect narrative references, theories about Umbrella.
Some critics began long-reads and livestreams of their gameplay, pausing to comment on details such as the quality of graphics, the pacing of the puzzles, and the voice acting. Another effect was the proliferation of shorter reviews, chapter analyses, and comparisons with contemporary survival horror games.
The brilliance and the responsibility.
The early morning was long. Messages of gratitude and excitement flooded Makoto. He read some and responded with brief "thank you" and "glad you liked it." The feeling was of a collective victory, not just his, but the entire team's, the voice actors, Sakura, and director Hiroshi Daigo.
But along with the joy came a heavy conscience: now, everything depended on what came next. The media attention, the fans' anticipation, the executives' gazes, including those of Shoji, Shin, and Kaede, hovered in the distance. The launch was a jolt of light, the next step was testing.
Still, that night, between texts and virtual dorms, the prevailing feeling was one of collective ecstasy. People around the world went to bed with images of the Spencer Mansion pulsing through their heads; some described goosebumps, others planned their next gaming session; streamers prepared their calendars for weekend marathons; and Airi and Makoto? They exchanged one last message before hanging up:
Airi: "You were amazing today. Shall we go to dinner after the rush?"
Makoto: "Yes, we will. And thank you for everything."
Neuron City, deep into the night, kept its pulse racing: millions of controls, millions of screens lit, and the beginning of a story that promised to last. The legend that began in the mind of a lone man, with strange memories of another world, had just taken shape, and for the first time, it had an audience that could not be ignored.