Arc Raiders has bravely declared when its open beta ends and when the game actually arrives, proving that in 2025, the final boss is still the calendar. Developers issued the timing with the confidence of a surgeon and the ambiguity of an astrology forecast.

They did not announce a time so much as a vibe. The beta ends precisely when your squad is about to win, when your backpack is full of rare drops, and when you have finally rebound crouch to something comprehensible.

Time zones responded by unionizing. GMT now stands for Game Marketing Time, PT stands for Please Tolerate, and CET is Confirmed Eventually Time. Meanwhile, UTC remains Until Twitter Corrects.

As a reviewer who reads privacy policies to the final footnote, I verified that open means open to latency, rubber-banding, and maybe enlightenment. The release date is real in the way Schrödinger’s cat is real: a feature if observed, marketing if not.

Fans prepared for the end with the resourcefulness of doomsday preppers and the snack budgets of raccoons. I saw one player vacuum the dust out of a console with a turkey baster while reciting patch notes like a Gregorian chant.

For the countdown, I stationed myself in front of an ultrawide 165Hz gaming monitor, because if I am going to watch seconds evaporate, I want them evaporating at refresh rates nature never intended. The numbers ticked down with the smugness of a parking meter.

A spokesperson clarified that a release date means the game will launch, followed by a smaller launch, then a patch launch that launches the launch into a better launch. Players nodded, fluent in Early Access Esperanto.

The in-game economy looks healthy if you think of loot as a mutual fund backed by rare minerals and vibes. You can dismantle hope for crafting dust and then craft it back into slightly heavier hope.

QA reports that keyboards survived the beta with only minor casualties, mostly the F5 key, which is now declared a historical site. My own desk looks like a melted diorama of a hot-swappable mechanical keyboard kit that saw the truth and blinked.

NPCs also issued a statement. They request hazard pay for being repeatedly consulted during a quest step labeled Talk To The Person You Already Spoke To, plus daylight savings for boss fights that start at forever o clock.

Pro tip from a writer who tests claims against code and tracks who pays for free: charge your controller, hydrate, and schedule your existential crisis for five minutes after the servers sigh. If you must min-max, min-max your bedtime.

So yes, the open beta ends, and yes, the release date exists out there shimmering like a mirage powered by venture-backed humidity. When the time finally arrives, I will be there with my clock punching in, my calendar tapping out, and my sense of irony fully patched. After all, in Game Marketing Time, the end is always right on schedule and mandatory overtime is the true final raid.