The Colours Update

Fly for a faction and the game flies its colours with you. Cross into someone else's and you will be told once, politely, before anyone opens fire.

The Whole Game, Rebuilt In One Look

Every panel, button, field and window has been rebuilt on one design: a dark carbon plate, a chamfered edge and a lit accent.

Cyan until you pick a faction. Your faction's colour after that — Vanguard cyan, Void orange, the Path green, the Shroud violet. Window titles, tabs, sliders, the chat window, the HUD: all of it, everywhere, not just the frames.

New typefaces. Quantico on titles and buttons, Rajdhani for body and lists. The old face was a display font doing a job it was never drawn for; a long list is readable now.

Buttons lift when you hover them rather than flashing, and a control you cannot use says so instead of just sitting there greyed.

The hangar and the main menu were the last two screens still wearing the old look. They match now.

Twenty-One Cursors

The game used your operating system's arrow, in every situation, including the one where the pointer is how you aim.

A reticle over anything you can target. It runs the same check the click runs, so it never promises a ship the click then misses.

A speech bubble over a quest NPC — with a slash through it when you are too far to hail, so you learn that before the click instead of after.

A station cursor inside a safe zone, and the refusal outside one.

An open hand over anything you can pick up, closing as you carry it. The map, the ship preview and the chat corner each say what dragging them will do.

All of them in your faction's colour, like everything else.

Faction Space Is Defended

The patrol craft flying around each home domain were scenery. They could not see you, let alone stop you.

Patrols are real ships now , on station, and they notice an outsider.

You get a warning and twelve seconds to leave. That is a border, not an ambush — and firing on a patrol ends the courtesy immediately.

A patrol below 40% hull calls for help , before it dies rather than as it dies, so nobody takes a domain apart one ship at a time.

Every call raises the alert, and every level sends more. The longer you stay somewhere you are not welcome, the heavier it gets. Leaving really does end it.

A Quest Journal Worth Opening

Quests grouped by chapter , with filters for active, ready to turn in, and completed.

A detail pane with the objective checklist, the rewards, who to turn it in to and any deadline.

Hail a story NPC and you fly in formation with them while you talk, instead of watching them leave mid-sentence.

The "?" over a finished quest was drawn back to front. Every marker reads the right way round now.

Daily Rewards That Advance

Claiming was stuck on day one. The streak reset the moment you missed a day, so the cycle never went anywhere for anyone.

The streak carries across gaps. Miss a day and the cycle continues where it left off.

The 30-day curve is rebalanced end to end : milestones on days 7, 14, 21, 28 and 30, the peak on the last day, and days 21–30 worth 60% of the cycle.

Same money overall — weighted towards the pilots who come back .

Nobody Gets Caught By A Restart

When the world is going down, you are told at 60, 30, 15, 10, 5, 3 and 1 minutes , then at 30 and 10 seconds. Quiet in chat an hour out; a banner and a countdown on screen when it matters.

Join mid-countdown and you are told on arrival , rather than undocking for a long run into a restart nobody mentioned.

While it is down the menu stops offering Play and shows when it is back , and it returns to normal by itself the moment the world answers again.

If it runs long it says so instead of counting to zero and sitting there.

Smaller Things

Stations now ring their safe zone instead of sitting 70% beyond its edge, so a zone reads as a place that is served rather than scattered.

The menu backdrop no longer washes the stations out — they are dark olive again instead of grey.