I was mid-raid chat when the notifications started pinging: a petition had spiked past 400,000 signatures. For a few seconds the feed felt electric—then the reality hit like a forgotten patch note. You and I both know hope can be louder than facts.
I’m a day-one Destiny player. I loved the early raids, the weekly grind, the uncanny way the loot table could ruin or make your night. I also watch the industry ledger, and I’ll tell you straight: the petition is impressive, emotional, and probably not enough.
At the Change.org feed: 400,000 people signed — and Change.org even posted about it
The petition leapt into visibility on X (formerly Twitter) and made people feel seen. That’s the power of platforms like Change.org: they amplify collective grief and hope into a single, viral number. But platforms amplify noise as easily as signal, and when revenue charts disagree with sentiment, signatures don’t pay servers.
Will Destiny 3 be made?
Short answer: unlikely in the way you imagine. Sony bought Bungie for $3.6 billion (€3.3 billion) in 2022 expecting sustained returns. Destiny 2’s live service period is being treated as finished; major content updates are stopping because the math didn’t add up. PlayStation and Bungie are reallocating resources: layoffs, internal shuffles, and a big bet on Marathon to justify the studio’s operational costs.
At the Bungie office: layoffs and reassignments have people worried
I’ve seen teams shrink before. You can feel it in meetings—quiet desks, fewer review cycles, the rumor mill filling the gaps. Sony cut roughly half of a studio’s workforce and shifted people to projects like Marathon. That move tells you where the company’s priorities are.
Yes, a skeleton crew could be tinkering on a sequel in a back room. But creating a triple-A, live-service sequel that meets Sony’s return-on-investment expectations would require time, staff, and marketing dollars Sony appears unwilling to dedicate right now.
“This franchise has helped me make friends that I never would have met, and got me through really tough times in my life,” one petition signer says.More than 400,000 people have signed a petition urging Sony and Bungie to develop Destiny 3 after Bungie ended active development… pic.twitter.com/HChtzn6XQh
— Change.org (@Change) July 21, 2026
At Steam and player counts: a small uptick from Marathons’ PvE test was visible — then it faded
You’ve probably checked Steam charts. A new PvE mode for Marathon nudged daily players up briefly, but that kind of bump is fragile. Live-service titles need sustained engagement to change corporate decisions, and a temporary Steam spike is a candle in a wind tunnel.
Can a petition force Sony to greenlight Destiny 3?
No platform legally compels a publisher to fund a game. What a petition can do is shape narratives—generate press, rally community leaders, and sometimes influence PR strategy. Sony and Bungie answer to shareholders and EBITDA goals, not signatures. Change.org can nudge perception; Steam numbers and projected lifetime value move budgets.

At industry level: big-budget games carry big expectations from publishers
Publishers run spreadsheets. A sequel like Destiny 3 would be judged against massive sales and retention targets that smaller, niche titles never face. Marathon is a different audience — competitive, hardcore, less likely to produce the mass-market returns Sony wanted from Bungie when it wrote that $3.6 billion (€3.3 billion) check.
What happened to Bungie after the acquisition?
Bungie’s pivot after the acquisition was always risky. They split focus between sustaining an aging live service and building a new IP. When Marathon stumbled out of early access and subscriptions cooled on Destiny 2, Sony made the call to cut costs. That left fans with memories, a petition, and a company choosing which fires to keep burning.
I don’t say this as a cynic. I sign petitions, too. I raid, and I watch devstreams. But hope doesn’t substitute for the balance sheet. The petition is a community artifact—a loud, meaningful artifact—like a photograph you keep after the house sells. It matters to people; it won’t necessarily change corporate calculus.
If you want to keep pressure on, use metrics publishers care about: show sustained engagement on Steam, push creators on YouTube and Twitch to cover the story, and keep the conversation alive on X and Reddit. Platforms and influencers move narratives; numbers move budgets. It’s tactical work, not a single moment.
So where does that leave us? You can sign, shout, and organize—and you should if it matters to you—but don’t confuse emotional volume with leverage. Are 400,000 signatures a moral victory or a tactical lever; or are they the last echo of a franchise quietly walking away?