MercurySteam’s Crunch Controversy After Blades of Fire: The Real Story for Players

Why This Report Hit Different

When I see MercurySteam in the headlines, I think of two very different vibes: the slick, confident execution of Metroid Dread and the studio’s past controversies over credits and internal culture. So reports from 3DJuegos, echoed by Game Developer, alleging 10-hour days, layoffs tied to a poor launch for Blades of Fire, and even communication crackdowns? That caught my attention fast-not just as industry drama, but as a window into how games are really made when the money and timelines get tight.

• Multiple employees and former staff describe 10-hour days normalized after Blades of Fire underperformed.
• Roughly two dozen layoffs reportedly followed, alongside canceled vacations and a remote-work ban.
• Accounts mention chat deletions, office partitions, and pressure around sick leave-classic red flags.
• Management pushback exists, but the consistency of testimonies suggests a serious culture problem.

Breaking Down the Allegations

The timeline matters. According to the Spanish outlet 3DJuegos, MercurySteam began 2025 by invoking a DIJ (Distribución Irregular de la Jornada) policy-basically stretching workdays by an hour with the promise of rest later. On paper, that’s a legal lever in Spain. But by May, testimonies say the studio pushed for 10-hour days, framing it as “voluntary” while presenting it as the new normal. If you’ve worked in games—or talked to anyone who has—you know how “voluntary” overtime tends to play out in practice.

Blades of Fire then reportedly landed with a thud in late spring. Commercial underperformance doesn’t excuse crunch, but it often turns a simmer into a boil. By August, around 24 layoffs hit. The reports say vacations were suspended, remote work was canceled, and by September, non-work chats were nuked and physical separators popped up around desks. That reads like a studio locking down for control instead of rebuilding trust.

Some current staff pushed back publicly, citing flexible hours, remote days, and an overall decent working environment. That’s important context—not every corner of a studio experiences the same thing. Still, union statements and a stack of testimonies paint a pattern: extra hours normalized, pressure tied to “the industry crisis,” and selective inspections that feel more punitive than productive.

Why This Matters Now

Crunch isn’t new, but the industry has been loudly promising to do better since the worst days of the 2010s. Hearing the same playbook—“it’s voluntary,” “we’ll make it up later,” “we all need to pull together”—in 2025 is frustrating. It’s also short-sighted. Extended overtime can deliver short-term bursts, but it usually trashes morale, retention, and quality. Ask any QA veteran what shipping after months of crunch does to bug debt and team velocity.

MercurySteam isn’t a no-name shop. Metroid Dread was a moment for them—sharp level design, confident pacing, and a big win on Switch. That pedigree is exactly why this story stings. When a studio with that kind of credibility responds to a stumble like Blades of Fire with alleged surveillance-like policies and 10-hour days, it sends the message that lessons weren’t learned from past industry blow-ups. It also risks a brain drain: the kind of senior talent that made Dread sing has options, and they leave when trust breaks.

There’s also Spain’s labor environment to consider. DIJ policies exist, but moving to normalized 10-hour days is a different beast. If sick leave is discouraged or punished—as some testimonies imply—that’s not just ethically rotten; it’s a legal minefield. Studios that try to brute-force their way out of a bad launch usually end up paying twice: once in overtime and once in attrition and reputation.

The Gamer’s Perspective: What Changes for Us

So what do we, the people actually buying the games, do with this? First, understand that quality and culture are intertwined. A team burning out does not build better patches, expansions, or sequels. If Blades of Fire needs post-launch care—and most modern releases do—this is the worst possible climate to deliver it.

Second, support transparency and worker power. Follow the reporting. When studios commit to realistic schedules and clear overtime compensation, call that out too. Starve the “hero crunch” myth. And if you love a studio’s work (I still think Dread’s EMMI sequences are some of the best tension Nintendo’s had this gen), loving it means wanting the people behind it to have humane conditions so they can keep making good stuff.

Finally, be wary of the “it was voluntary” language in corporate posts and interviews. If the cultural expectation is 10-hour days, voluntary disappears fast. Real fixes look like adjusted roadmaps, scope cuts, and honest communication—not partitions and deleted chats.

Looking Ahead

MercurySteam can still course-correct. A clear policy reset, credible third-party audits, and a commitment to sane schedules would go a long way. If they don’t, the market will do what it always does: quietly move talent elsewhere, and players will feel the drift in slower updates and flatter design. Gamers don’t need PR statements—we need studios that respect the people making the games we care about.

TL;DR

Reports allege MercurySteam normalized 10-hour days, cracked down on communication, and cut staff after Blades of Fire flopped. That’s a recipe for burnout and worse games. If the studio wants to keep the trust it earned with Metroid Dread, it needs transparency, humane schedules, and an immediate culture reset.