Back in the summer of 2020, the air was thick with curiosity. The gaming world had just watched Bethesda drop two intriguing names into the conversation: Deathloop and GhostWire: Tokyo. They felt like half-whispered secrets, delivered by a softly smirking Pete Hines who knew exactly how to keep fans on the edge of their seats. No release dates, barely any gameplay—just two cinematic trailers that raised more questions than answers. But for people like Alex, a long-time Bethesda follower, that was more than enough to start counting down the days until the next big reveal.

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Hines, Bethesda’s senior vice president of marketing, had promised during a chat with Kinda Funny that E3 2020 would show a lot more of both games. He even dropped a little tease: fans of Arkane Studios—the wizards behind Dishonored and Prey—were "going to be pleased." Those words spun around in Alex’s head for months. Deathloop, with its time-looping assassins and retro-futuristic flair, looked like it had the DNA of Dishonored but with a jazzier heartbeat. Hines had said the team was doing "some really cool stuff" that felt familiar yet different. That was the kind of cryptic nudge that makes a fan lean in closer.

Meanwhile, GhostWire: Tokyo had become an emotional bookmark. Its reveal at E3 2019 had been unforgettable, thanks largely to the beaming, charismatic Ikumi Nakamura, who had since left the development team. Her departure left a little cloud of uncertainty. Would the game still carry that same soulful weirdness? Alex wasn’t sure, but Bethesda’s silence only made the mystery grow louder.

Of course, what Alex really wanted to hear about was Starfield and The Elder Scrolls VI. Those two giants had been confirmed as next-gen titles, with Starfield supposedly arriving first. Rumours swirled that Bethesda might finally lift the curtain at E3 2020. But the event came and went with merely more teases. It was like watching a master illusionist keep the real prize just out of reach—painful, but undeniably exciting.

Then the calendar turned, and suddenly Alex was living in a post-E3 world. 2021 arrived with the buzz of new hardware, and Bethesda delivered. Deathloop launched, and Arkane’s creative risks paid off. The time-loop hook wasn’t just a gimmick; it was a playground. Alex remembers thinking, "Boy, did they deliver or what?" Every assassination loop felt like solving a violent puzzle while the island of Blackreef whispered its secrets. It was the kind of game that made you pause mid-firefight just to admire the stylish chaos.

The following year, GhostWire: Tokyo finally materialised. Even without Nakamura’s guiding hand, the game pulsed with a unique identity. Rain-slicked streets, faceless spirits, and hand gestures that tore reality apart—it was a feast for the senses, even if some critics found the combat a bit repetitive. Alex spent hours just walking through the empty Shibuya crossing, soaking in the atmosphere. It wasn’t quite Skyrim in Japan, but it had its own hypnotic charm.

Then 2023 happened. Starfield. The word had loomed over the community like a prophecy for half a decade. When it finally launched, the game was… massive. A cosmic sandbox with over a thousand planets, spaceship customisation, and that unmistakable Bethesda DNA of \u201csee that mountain? You can climb it\u201d—only now the mountains were on different star systems. Bugs were plentiful, of course, because old habits die hard. Yet, Alex couldn’t help but lose entire weekends to starship piracy and faction wars. It was Skyrim in space, just as many had hoped—and sometimes more than they could handle.

But what about The Elder Scrolls VI? That’s where the story takes a quieter turn. As of 2026, that brief 2018 teaser with the misty coastline remains the only official glimpse. Bethesda has been busy, sure. Between Starfield’s expansions, mobile experiments, and the Microsoft acquisition that shook up the industry, the studio’s dance card has been full. Still, Alex sometimes pulls up that old trailer on his holoscreen, listening to the orchestral swell, and mutters, "Come on, Todd. Just a little something?" It’s not just impatience—it’s the knowledge that whenever it finally arrives, it will devour months of his life.

Looking back from 2026, the journey from those E3 2020 announcements to today has been a rollercoaster. Deathloop became a cult classic. GhostWire: Tokyo turned out to be a gorgeous oddball. Starfield defined a generation of space games even though it stumbled here and there. And through it all, The Elder Scrolls VI has hovered on the horizon like a promise made by an old friend who keeps saying he’ll visit "soon." Alex understands. Great things take time. But every time Bethesda’s logo glows on a screen, he feels that same spark from 2020—the thrill of not quite knowing what’s next, but trusting it’ll be worth the wait.

After all, what’s a few more years when you’ve already been dreaming since the dragon shouts of Skyrim? The future is unwritten, and somewhere in Maryland, someone is probably polishing a sword or a starship. Alex will be there, controller in hand, ready to be disappointed or utterly enchanted. Because that’s the deal with Bethesda: they might make you wait, but they rarely waste your time.