Mass Effect’s Cancellation and the Need for Stories to End

A Mass Effect-themed spoiler warning

Spoiler Warning: Beware of spoilers for the Mass Effect series.

I adored BioWare’s Knights of the Old Republic and Jade Empire back on the original Xbox. I often credit KotOR as being the story that “saved Star Wars” for me, after the major disappointment of the prequel trilogy! And later, I played the Mass Effect trilogy and fell in love with the new sci-fi universe that BioWare had created. Although most of the people at BioWare who were responsible for the creation and direction of those fantastic games have long ago departed the studio, learning that BioWare is being shut down – and will join the ever-growing Electronic Arts graveyard – was still a sad piece of news. Inevitable, perhaps, given BioWare’s recent form and the EA buyout that we discussed last year… but still sad.

Cards on the table: the situation at Electronic Arts meant that I wasn’t going to buy or play Mass Effect 4 even if it had made it to release. So in that sense, I guess I already felt that BioWare and Mass Effect were over – at least on a personal level. But I thought the news of Mass Effect 4′s cancellation could provide an opportunity to talk about a topic that needs to be aired more than ever in gaming, and in the entertainment industry at large: the need for stories to end.

Promo image for the cancelled Mass Effect 3 sequel
The next Mass Effect game has been cancelled by Electronic Arts.

Every story ends. When you reach the final page of a book, watch the credits roll at the end of a film, or beat the final boss in a video game… that’s it. That’s the end. The best stories and fictional worlds leave us with the sense that the people we met, and the worlds they inhabited, are going to persist beyond that last page or final boss, but that’s just a hallmark of good storytelling. However, in the modern, highly-commercialised entertainment industry, stories that should have been allowed to end… aren’t. Character arcs may be complete, the “big bad” may have been finally defeated, and peace restored to the land… but then, inevitably, a room full of executives decrees that such a financially lucrative property can’t just be allowed to end with dignity! We need sequels, damn it! Sequels, prequels, spin-offs… the works.

And for me, Mass Effect has been in that position for a while.

The Mass Effect trilogy told one connected story: that of Commander Shepard and the war against the Reapers. Shepard began to unravel the Reaper conspiracy in the first game, encountered and defeated a Reaper ally or subordinate in the second, and finally took on the entire Reaper fleet in the third – bringing the conflict, and their own character arc, to a conclusion. We can debate how well the ending of Mass Effect 3 was structured, of course; the whole “pick a colour” thing became notorious for a while. But, for better or worse, that was the end of the story.

Screenshot from Mass Effect 3 showing the ending
Which colour did you pick?

And to be honest with you, I’ve never been able to see a pathway to writing a new chapter for Mass Effect that wouldn’t have felt some combination of tacked-on, derivative, repetitive, underwhelming, fan-servicey, or just all-around disappointing.

This is a phenomenon that I’ve termed the “Disney sequel problem” – i.e. what comes *after* the “happily ever after” that most Disney movies end on? Very, very few stories get this right, because one of the basic, most fundamental building blocks of fiction is that stories have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Hack away at any one of those pillars and you risk the entire thing collapsing. That was the position Mass Effect found itself in after the end of the Reaper War, in my opinion; there really was no way to tell another story in this world that would’ve been anywhere close to the epic stakes of the first trilogy… but Electronic Arts demanded that BioWare do it anyway.

The result was Andromeda – a spin-off that aimed to take Mass Effect to a new setting, but with familiar alien races. The game was a disappointment, so BioWare was pushed back to making a direct sequel to Mass Effect 3.

“My face is tired.”

Mass Effect is hardly the only popular entertainment series to find itself in this position, though.

Look at Star Wars and Marvel – two of the biggest brands in the entire entertainment space. Star Wars’ sequel trilogy underwhelmed for various reasons, but a core part of the reason why those stories were never going to be as well-regarded as what came before is that the original story of Star Wars *should* have been over. The same with Marvel, which is now desperately bringing back former stars and resurrecting dead characters… all because no film since Avengers: Endgame has come close to living up to the stories that came before. With Marvel, it felt, for a long time, like Endgame was what every other story was slowly building towards; the ultimate coming-together of all the franchise’s heroes. And that, realistically, *should* have been the final part of the cinematic saga.

There are ways to tell new stories – or re-tell familiar stories – in a big fictional setting after the main event has concluded. But it depends on the nature of the setting and how closely connected it is to that first big story. The best way is probably to take the Andromeda approach – to tell a side-story that’s totally disconnected from the main event. But we saw how well that worked, eh?

Promo banner/poster for Avengers: Endgame
Disney and Marvel have struggled to make a successful follow-up to Avengers: Endgame.

Sometimes, an author, filmmaker, or game developer might create a sequel story like this for genuinely good reasons – i.e. they truly felt there was another story in that world or with those characters that was worth telling or that needed to be told. Some of those stories work, some don’t – for the reasons we’ve already elaborated on – but at least there’s some artistic merit to them, in cases like that.

But then we come to the nakedly commercial sequels – the corporate-mandated stories that are conceived not because of any artistry or narrative vision, but because a corporation and its cowardly investors want to put their money into what feels like more of a sure thing and less of a risk. Established franchises have built-in audiences, at least some of whom will show up for the latest iteration. Try doing something new – even if it’s way better – and you miss out on those supposed guaranteed sales. That’s why a return to Mass Effect was coming, that’s why the Star Wars sequels were made, and that’s why Marvel is trying to recapture the magic of Endgame with the latest Avengers crossover film(s).

Concept Art for Star Wars VII: The Force Awakens showing Rey's arrival at Ahch-To.
The Star Wars sequel trilogy exists for this very reason.

And you know what? *Audiences can tell the difference!*

As the entertainment industry at large continues to consolidate more and more brands into the hands of fewer and fewer corporate owners, this is going to keep happening. Why would a mega-corporation greenlight a new story set in a brand-new universe when they could return to one that already has a fanbase? Worst case? You make a crap film or game that gets absolutely roasted by critics… but the fan community still shows up for it in droves. There are some exceptions to that – see The Mandalorian and Grogu over in the Star Wars franchise, for instance – but by and large, that’s the corporate approach.

That’s why BioWare was tapped to return to its two successful series – Dragon Age and Mass Effect – after the failure that was Anthem. Sure, EA could’ve trusted BioWare to try something new again, but those two properties felt… safe. Andromeda, despite its poor reception from critics and fans, more than made its money back for EA… which is more than can be said for Anthem.

Promo screenshot for Anthem
After Anthem flopped, BioWare was sent back to safer ground by its corporate overlords.

We are firmly in an era of corporate-mandated sequels, prequels, spin-offs, and reboots, and I really don’t see it ending any time soon. Some franchises may be better-suited to it than others, and there clearly are fictional worlds that are deep enough, rich enough, and with enough lore and backstories to sustain multiple projects, even after the “main” story arc has concluded. But in too many cases, these nakedly commercial returns to long-finished stories are just painfully obvious… and not very good.

As with many things in life, it’s not about being black-and-white, saying “sequels are universally bad,” or insisting that no story ever gets a follow-up or a return to its world. There’s a balance to be struck between wrapping up a story successfully and finding those rare properties that can sustain more stories and sequels. Too often, corporations get this wrong – and they get it wrong because they aren’t interested in art, or in any narrative value a project might have. They’re out to make as much money as possible *immediately* – and what happens next to a beloved franchise or to a completed story is entirely irrelevant.

It’s short-term thinking at its very worst.

Still frame from The NeverEnding Story showing a child and a book
No story can realistically be never-ending…

Moreover, this push to turn *every story* into a “forever franchise” which can be monetised indefinitely means that we’re losing the value in well-written endings. When every movie or game has a corporate requirement to leave the door ajar for a future spin-off or sequel, we lose the inherent value in one of the best parts of fiction itself: the ending. A well-written, well-timed, well-paced ending is the culmination of a story. It rewards readers, viewers, or players for the time they’ve invested in a fictional setting, concluding character arcs and narratives in a satisfying way. Endings matter… and trying to get rid of them to turn art into an infinite money-maker has already soiled multiple stories and franchises.

A good, well-written, and *conclusive* ending can be the very best part of a story. After everything our protagonist(s) went through over their adventures, getting to the end and beating the villain or uncovering the truth behind a mystery just feels inherently satisfying. But too often, we’re being deprived of that in order to tell tacked-on, wholly unnecessary follow-ups that have basically the same amount of artistic vision and merit as one of those direct-to-video Disney sequels.

Screenshot of Mass Effect 3 showing FemShep and Mordin
Mass Effect 3 was the end of this story.

I would like to see genuine *boldness* back in the entertainment industry; a real willingness to let old stories come to their natural ends, and new ones created to take their place. Not every movie, TV show, book, or game can tolerate being turned into a franchise… and *that’s okay!* New stories can come along, and plenty of folks – myself included – still enjoy jumping from one story to another. Sure, I’m a big Star Trek fan… but Star Trek isn’t and has never been the *only* fictional world I care about. And many, many people are in the same position.

That doesn’t mean that every new story can or will succeed. We discussed BioWare’s Anthem a moment ago, but you could also point to films like Cutthroat Island and Rebel Moon, TV shows like Supertrain and Terra Nova, or games like Concord and even another of my beloved titles: Shenmue. But failures and flops happen… and with today’s mega-corporations having so much money and so many investors, they can sustain a miss or two here and there. Isn’t trying something new – and potentially establishing the “next big thing” in the process – a better use of time and money than trying to squeeze every last penny out of a story that’s already come to its natural end?

I’d argue that it is.

Screenshot from Shenmue I showing Ryo passing the vending machine and Nagai Industries
Shenmue was a brand-new story that didn’t get a chance to connect with a wider audience.

Titles that are deliberately more episodic in nature can last longer than those with a single, connected story. Star Trek is a great example: as long as you can invent new aliens, new planets, and new space weirdness to encounter, you can make an exploration-focused Star Trek show (or franchise) that persists for a long time. But things like Star Wars and Mass Effect don’t work that way; there’s one story, one villain or set of villains, and when it’s over… it’s over. Returning to a setting like that for different kinds of projects might be possible if there’s enough support for it – and it’s also possible to reimagine the story for a different medium, as Mass Effect aimed to do with its TV adaptation. But a direct sequel just… I don’t see how it was ever going to work.

The Star Wars sequel trilogy is a case in point. There *were* questions that fans had about what would come next for Luke, Han, and Leia after the events of Return of the Jedi. But, having seen both the low-quality fan-fiction of the old Expanded Universe *and* Disney’s sequel trilogy… it’s pretty clear that tacking on a new story after the events of the original films was impossible to do in a way that felt natural. The Sith were gone, the Rebels were victorious… where do you go after that?

Still frame from Star Wars IX Rise of Skywalker showing Poe
Somehow Star Wars returned…

I think we all have an innate understanding of where a story should end. That’s why you often hear criticisms of films that were too long, or TV shows that outstayed their welcomes by producing one season too many. Some super-fans might *never* want their favourite franchise to end, but even within fan communities, we see plenty of people willing and able to criticise unnecessary sequels, continuations, or epilogues that don’t fit with what came before. That’s why franchises like Star Wars, Marvel, and others we’ve mentioned have struggled to hit the heights of their earlier incarnations, both critically and commercially.

I’d always rather a story ended leaving me wanting more than dragged on too long and left me thinking “god, I wish this ended ages ago.” Whether it’s a film, a book, a game, or a TV show, every story will eventually reach a natural end – and it should be allowed to. Endings aren’t a flaw, they’re a normal part of storytelling. And when handled properly, they can be the very best part of a good story. Some super-fans who wish they could live inside a fictional universe might never be satisfied with that, and might want nothing more than to see their favourite franchise continue indefinitely… but most people aren’t in that category.

Promo still for Supernatural showing Sam and Dean
This show went on and on and on… for fifteen years.

As a final point, corporations insisting that every story must be written in such a way as to allow for spin-offs and sequels, and tacking on totally unnecessary sequels to stories that are already complete, doesn’t just rob us of good, enjoyable endings… it robs us of new experiences, too. How many new films, games, books, and TV shows might’ve been created over the last twenty-plus years if this doubling- and tripling-down on existing IP hadn’t happened? If Halo had been allowed to end after Halo 3 or Halo: Reach, what other sci-fi franchises or shooters could’ve taken its place? If Disney hadn’t tried to buy itself an infinite money printer with Star Wars, might someone there have invented a new sci-fi universe?

I can’t even conceive of the potentially wonderful stories being created by passionate, talented folks that aren’t even getting a moment’s consideration because of this insistence on sequels and “forever franchises,” and it’s really, truly sad. I’m a big Trekkie, sure, but I’m always going to be open to new sci-fi, fantasy, and other kinds of stories… if anyone could be brave enough to give the green light to that kind of project. Some of those stories might go on to be my next big fandom, and could spawn fan communities that will persist for years. But no one at any of the fewer and fewer entertainment industry mega-corps is willing to take a slightly risky bet. Even though they all have the money to do so safely and securely.

Promo/concept art of Wario for the Nintendo game Wario Ware.
This is exactly how I imagine most corporate executives and investors…

It’s through that lens that I always saw Mass Effect 4′s existence… and that’s why I can put my hand on my heart and say I’m not upset by its cancellation. Maybe someone at the now-defunct BioWare did have a genuinely good idea for where to take the story… but it’s way more likely, in my opinion, that this was little more than a corporate-mandated sequel, one that would’ve been painfully obvious in how commercial it was, and one that simply wouldn’t have been able to add *anything* meaningful to the world of Mass Effect or to the legacy of its original trilogy. We can be sad for the developers at BioWare who are losing their jobs, and we should *never* applaud a corporation (especially one like Electronic Arts) closing down a studio. But in terms of the cancelled game that we now won’t get to see? Honestly… I doubt we’re missing much.

So that’s all for today.

This piece wasn’t really about Mass Effect, and I’ve been meaning, for a long time, to talk about the importance of narratives coming to a natural end and the way in which “forever franchises” can end up soiling a good ending. The cancellation of Mass Effect 4 just provided me with an opportunity to get stuck into this topic.

Promo image for the cancelled Mass Effect 3 sequel showing Krogan
The final piece of promotional artwork released for Mass Effect 4 before its cancellation.

On the subject of Mass Effect, though, here’s what I’d say: I doubt that Electronic Arts will sit on the IP forever and do nothing with it. The next console generation could be an opportunity to do another Legendary Edition-type of remaster, though I hope it would be a more *substantial* remaster this time around! I haven’t heard whether the TV spin-off/adaptation has been similarly cancelled, so that could be a way for Mass Effect to continue in some form. At its peak, Mass Effect was a lot of fun… but it was also a story with a very definitive conclusion. Tacking on an unnecessary sequel never seemed right – so I do not lament this project’s cancellation in the slightest.

Thanks for joining me today. I know that a game’s cancellation is never going to be a *fun* subject, and I hope I didn’t come across as being too negative. But I thought this moment made for an interesting opportunity to discuss the failures of these kinds of unnecessary sequels, and why every story deserves a good, conclusive ending.


All titles and properties discussed above are the copyright of their respective developers, broadcasters, distributors, publishers, etc. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.

Anthem Sucked (But You Should Still Be Allowed To Play It)

Bad news, guys: Anthem is gone. After today, you can never play it again.

What do you mean “WTF is Anthem?” You know: that BioWare game from 2019? With the flying “Iron Man” suits? BioWare’s genre-busting epic? The “ten-year experience” that defined a generation? The “Bob Dylan of video games?” Anthem!

Okay, all jokes aside, today – the 12th of January 2026 – is the final day that Anthem’s servers are going to be online. The game has already been removed from digital shops on all platforms in anticipation of this, and when the plug is pulled on those servers later today, that’s it. No more Anthem… ever.

Photograph of Bob Dylan performing in Toronto.
Anthem was supposed to be the video game equivalent of Bob Dylan…
Photo: Jean-Luc, CC BY-SA 2.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Let’s not beat around the bush: Anthem was dog shit. It was a decade too late, developed by a studio that had no experience with online multiplayer titles, it suffered from weak world-building, and the entire game was rebuilt from scratch in the eighteen months before it launched because the version(s) shown to the higher-ups at EA were even worse. It relied on a totally fake CGI trailer to generate hype, players felt swindled and let down when they finally got to try the game, and it even seemed, for a hot minute, that Anthem’s failure would condemn BioWare to the ever-growing Electronic Arts graveyard.

So… why should we care that Anthem is finally being put out of its misery?

There are some pretty bad or poorly-received games that I think we *all* have enjoyed over the years. And there are plenty of so-bad-it’s-good titles that can be fun to boot up for a challenge… or just to have a laugh. The weird Home Improvement tie-in game for the SNES, Carmageddon 64, Blue Stinger on the Dreamcast… I’m sure you have your own examples. But the point is this: we can still play those games if we want to.

Screenshot from Home Improvement: Power Tool Pursuit on the SNES.
There are plenty of less-than-great games that are still around and playable.

Anthem may have sucked, but it shouldn’t be up to EA and BioWare to tell us we can’t play it. That’s the bottom line here, and loathe as we may be to defend a monotonous, boring slog of a game like Anthem… it should still be accessible. Converting the game to be playable offline isn’t beyond EA and BioWare’s capabilities, and while I absolutely concede that keeping dedicated server space online for a dead game is a waste of resources… that doesn’t excuse killing the game entirely and rendering it unplayable.

A lot of players (okay, not *a lot*, because it’s Anthem, but you know what I mean) played Anthem solo. Despite being intended to be a multiplayer experience, it was possible to go through the game on your own, if you wanted to. And games like this have bots all the time – how hard would it have been to tone down some of the more difficult moments, add bots to replace human teammates, and keep the game playable for solo players? Or how hard would it be to turn off the dedicated servers but keep the game playable for local multiplayer, or even for peer-to-peer multiplayer? These things *are* achievable.

Promo screenshot for 2019's Anthem showing a character in a mech suit.
Bad news for Anthem’s remaining fan.

Another notorious flop in the live service space is Suicide Squad: Kill the Justice League. That game is also dead, and cost its parent company well over $100 million. But last year, Suicide Squad was updated to give the game an offline mode for solo players. Even when its servers are inevitably shut down, the game will remain playable for the folks who enjoyed it. See how easy that was? Yes, Kill the Justice League isn’t a fun game, and you can see why people who tried it bounced off it. But some people did gel with it and did enjoy it for its gameplay, its story, and so on. The same is true of Anthem. Don’t both sets of players deserve to be able to continue to play the games they enjoy? Games that, lest we forget, *they paid for*.

Anthem was never free-to-play. If you picked it up on launch day, you paid £50/$60 for the privilege. That’s less than seven years ago, and now that money – and any additional money spent at the in-game shop – is just… gone. The product that folks bought is now useless; Anthem discs might as well be coasters or frisbees. That… well, it just isn’t right. Is it?

A promotional screenshot.

This is a much more fundamental, philosophical point, but I believe all works of art and media should be preserved. This is human creativity, free expression… Anthem is the culmination of the work of hundreds of people over several years. And like any other work of art, it should be preserved for posterity. If we allow games like Anthem to be deleted, we not only deprive players today of a game they might’ve actually enjoyed or at least wanted to try out, but we also deprive people in the future the chance to see what gaming looked like at that moment in time.

Anthem wasn’t the only big-budget live service title to fail hard in the late 2010s or early 2020s. But in a way, it’s become emblematic of a period in the games industry where corporate publishers went all-in on the live service model. And being able to see what that looked like is important. We shouldn’t allow Electronic Arts and BioWare to get away with scrubbing the internet of Anthem; their shameful failure *should* be on display for all to see. It needs to be seen to be understood, and it needs to be understood because it says a lot about the state of the games industry in the late 2010s. Future media historians are being deprived of the opportunity to study Anthem… and learn what went wrong.

EA's old logo.
Electronic Arts (EA) is responsible for shutting down Anthem.

I made a similar argument in relation to the original Star Wars film from 1977. Most folks have never seen Star Wars. Sure, they’ve seen A New Hope – the modified version of the film with crappy CGI additions that George Lucas forced into it in the late ’90s. But the original version of Star Wars – the film that started it all – was deliberately being erased and overwritten by Lucasfilm and the Walt Disney Company. That is, until fans took the task of digitally preserving it into their own hands, and created something called “Project 4K77.” You can read more about that by clicking or tapping here.

The point is this: all works of art and pieces of media are important and worth preserving. No film, TV series, painting, novel, or video game deserves to be erased. They simply should not be made inaccessible to folks who want to engage with them, either for entertainment and enjoyment or for academic purposes. And we shouldn’t permit corporations to just arbitrarily decide which works of art and media us plebs are permitted to view. Once something has been created and released, it should remain accessible to everyone. There’s no justification for killing Anthem.

The "roadmap" of content that was never added to Anthem.
Anthem’s “roadmap” of content – most of which was never added.

Even if Anthem’s online servers needed to be shut down, there were still a plethora of options for preserving the game itself. And that’s what’s so disappointing about this move: Anthem could have been preserved as a single-player, offline experience, or even with local or peer-to-peer multiplayer. There simply are no technical limitations to prevent this from being possible, which means it was a conscious choice on the part of Electronic Arts to kill the game. It was EA cheaping out, refusing to spend the minuscule amount of money that would’ve been required to preserve the game.

So that task? Now it falls to fans, players, and game preservation groups.

Video games have always been a bit of an odd case when it comes to preservation for one simple reason: hardware. If you don’t own a functional SNES, playing games from Alien 3 to Zero the Kamikaze Squirrel becomes impossible. But that’s where players stepped in: emulation keeps those older games playable long after their original hardware is out of stock, and far beyond the moment where they went out of print. The same could happen for Anthem, though it’ll be a tougher task.

Stock photo of a Super NES (SNES) on a red background.
Games that originally released on older hardware, like the SNES, have been preserved thanks to emulation.

Anthem will need to be modified to be playable offline. I’m not even going to *pretend* that I understand what will need to be done to make that happen; “cracking” the game and modifying parts of its code are just way above my pay grade as a mere critic! But, if past experience has taught us anything, it’s that there are folks out there who are dedicated to video game preservation, and plenty of clever people who know just how to modify even the most complex of code. A playable offline version of Anthem is possible – and it may already be underway.

But it’s unfortunate that a version of this game that folks will be able to play offline wasn’t created officially by EA. And it’s a timely reminder of the importance of the “Stop Killing Games” initiative, which has launched petitions in various countries and territories. A change in the law would be needed, but it isn’t impossible to think that, one day, the kind of thing EA has just done to Anthem will be illegal; that future developers and publishers will be required to preserve their titles and keep a version of them playable indefinitely. For all of the reasons we’ve discussed, I think that’s vitally important.

Promo screenshot/art for 2019's Anthem showing a villain.
It’s the end of the line for Anthem… at least, officially.

While I personally don’t give a shit about the utterly dire Anthem, I think its erasure by Electronic Arts is not something to celebrate – nor something to tolerate. And I encourage you to check out “Stop Killing Games” and see how the movement is progressing, whether there are active petitions in your region, and encourage local lawmakers and politicians to get on board. Anthem may not seem like it’s worth preserving, but who are any of us to decide what’s “good enough” for future players and academics to have access to? Even the very worst games you can think of – E.T., Superman 64, Sonic ’06, or Ride to Hell: Retribution – don’t deserve the ignominious fate of being *erased* entirely.

It’s important to preserve as many works of art and media as possible. And at a fundamental level, it’s important not to allow corporations to dictate to us which games we can play, which films we can watch, and so on. That choice should be ours.

Even if that choice is to play a truly awful game like Anthem.


Anthem was released by BioWare and Electronic Arts in 2019 for PC, PlayStation 4, and Xbox One consoles. The game is no longer available for purchase. This article contains the thoughts and opinions of one person only and is not intended to cause any offence.