Undocking
One of the highlights of my trip to EVE Fanfest 2025 in Reykjavik was the chance to sit down for a long-awaited CCP Hellmar interview. The world outside New Eden knows him as Hilmar Veigar Pétursson, CEO of CCP Games, he has spent over 25 years helping shape the world of EVE—from its daring beginnings to its ambitious future.
Among Hilmar’s many achievements, one stood out to me during the Fanfest closing ceremony: he’s also an experienced mellow chopper, proudly carrying a very real two-handed sword—gifted to him by CCP in honor of 20 years of service.
I’ve been part of EVE for over two decades—I started playing when I was 18. In many ways, this game shaped not only my worldview but also my career path. So sitting across from the architect of New Eden wasn’t just another interview. It was a rare and personal moment for me—a collision of two roles: the journalist I’ve become, and the capsuleer I’ve always been.
BTW, Fanfest was more than dev talks — it was a saga. Read the full Reykjavik report here.
Warping Bookmarks
Legacy – EVE Forever
Let’s start with a timeless one. After over two decades of leading CCP Games, are you still learning, or discovering new things about EVE and its community?
Yeah, absolutely. The EVE universe has become much larger than it was—not just EVE Online, but each EVE game now has its own community around it.
At this Fanfest, for example, I had a pretty eye-opening moment with the DUST 514 community. They still exist, and they’re incredibly passionate. They’re doing everything they can to revive that part of the EVE legacy. It’s genuinely inspiring.
What people are doing in EVE, and what they’re doing around EVE—it’s all part of something bigger than we ever imagined. Fanfest is where I really hear those stories—on panels, at events, and yes, even during the pub crawl. Some folks are nervous around me at first, but after a few drinks, they open up. That’s when I hear some of the most amazing, heartfelt stories about how EVE has impacted their lives—and every time, I learn something new.
We all know EVE has been officially dying since July 2003… but seriously, in your mind, what part of EVE’s spirit do you hope survives the longest?
EVE Online forever—that’s always been my hope. And it’s not just a phrase. It’s something I truly believe in, and I’m working hard to make it happen. That’s plan A.
But even beyond that, there’s already so much of EVE imprinted on the world. The monument. Merchandise scattered across the globe. Books. Fan fiction. And of course, the internet itself serves as an archive to keep all of it alive.
Then there are the friendships, the memories built around the game—all these things together will echo for a long time.
Legacy often lives in the loudest moments—but sometimes, the quiet ones matter more. Was there a win that meant a lot to you, even if it seemed invisible to the rest of us players?
There was a very big moment for me—I still remember it clearly. It’s the story of a borrowed Thorax cruiser from an in-game friend.
(Editor’s note: Hilmar originally shared this story in the documentary The Making of EVE Online. You can watch it here with the relevant timecode)
I borrowed his ship to mine, set autopilot, and went to the toilet. But when I came back, I was already in a pod—the ship had been killed in a 0.4 gatecamp. That was devastating. And honestly, pretty embarrassing. I should have checked the autopilot route and avoided lowsec, but I didn’t.
I was paralyzed with disappointment, shame, anger—all of it. And then I thought: I’m a developer. I can just make a new ship. But that thought alone made me disappointed in myself. It felt like cheating.
Why does it feel like cheating? Back then, most MMO developers would’ve just spawned some gold or items. It was trivial. But at CCP, we never did that. And that mattered. So I spent the rest of my paternity leave mining minerals to repay my friend for that lost Thorax. It felt like a test—do I really believe in EVE? That moment was the answer.
I remember the room I was in. I remember where I stood. I can visualize it vividly, even now. It was a very special, very personal moment for me. A moment of revelation: the world is real.
Quiet Victories and Developer Grit
That was a fantastic, eye-opening moment. But on the devops side—was there ever an event that no one even heard about, yet changed everything behind the scenes?
Yes, so there was a moment like that. At some point in January 2003, DirectX 9 comes out, but EVE Online was running on DirectX 8. I very much wanted to upgrade to DirectX 9 to be future-proof before the release, but it was a complicated thing to get done and it was kind of risky. All sorts of things could go wrong—DirectX 9 drivers were pretty recent, all 3D cards were pretty recent.
And I had a big argument with one of the external producers from Simon & Schuster who was staying in Iceland, about that upgrade. We ended up in a board meeting at CCP debating it, and I walked out of that meeting and I’m just like—okay, I’ll just do it tonight.
Then I spent the whole night rewriting all the code with DirectX 9. I came up with some way to move the high-level shader language from 8 to 9 with some bit-shifting algorithm I kind of came up with during the night. And I’m not very good at doing that kind of programming—it’s not a thing that comes naturally to me.
And imagine now, it’s like five in the morning and it looks like I’m done. So I press the button and launch the program—and it just works. I check it all in, go home, go to sleep, come back at noon—and yeah, it’s done. There’s no need to argue about it anymore. It’s done. Just go and play it.
But it was like… I don’t know…
Like fixing the engine of a race car mid-race—the picture you showed during the opening ceremony?
Little bit like a mini version of that, yeah. There was something about that moment which felt like—where I almost gained superpowers from somewhere to be able to do this, because I’m not that good at programming.
Into the Frontier
Let’s zoom out for a moment. The MMO landscape is evolving faster than ever—and EVE is evolving with it. I’ve seen that shift myself, especially with features like corporation projects and freelance jobs. Instead of the usual ‘bring me ten wolf pelts,’ you’re giving players real tools to shape content together. Looking ahead, what do you see as the biggest unexplored frontier for MMOs in the next decade?
Well, I’d say the real frontier is exactly what we’re exploring with EVE: Frontier (laughs). But seriously—when I look at where MMOs are heading, I think it’s about deeper modding, including server-side modding, open economies, and building worlds that truly belong to the players.
That’s where I see the future. And that’s why we call it EVE Frontier—because that’s exactly what it is.
Is that why you decided to change EVE: Awakening to EVE: Frontier?
Well, Awakening was really just a project name—not a proper game title. But in September 2024, we gave the project its real name: EVE: Frontier.
I read through the full EVE: Frontier whitepaper—it really feels like a dream project. Not EVE 2.0, not a sequel—but something entirely its own. What’s your perspective on what this game really is?
I mean, it’s kind of like—if I were to make EVE now, knowing everything I’ve learned over the years, how would I do it?
“If I were to make EVE now, knowing everything I’ve learned over the years, how would I do it?”
It’s not EVE 2. In some ways, it’s more like EVE 1. Or maybe even EVE 0.5—the version of EVE I’d make today with current technology, current insights, and everything that’s happened in gaming since the original. That’s the mindset behind Frontier.
Building Dreams, Facing Risks
Gameplay and lore-wise, I’m sure you’ll deliver. But the economic side worries me a bit. I work in compliance—AML, KYC, MiCA, DORA, and everything in between is part of my daily work. That kind of legal landscape can really threaten a dream project. Do you have a plan to address it before it becomes a problem for EVE: Frontier?
Yeah, so—we have plans. But when you’re doing something no one’s done before, something no one’s really thought through, there just aren’t clear rules or regulations—because the precedent doesn’t exist yet.
A lot of the regulatory stuff is focused on financial systems. And while EVE: Frontier does fit within the broader crypto ecosystem, at its core, it’s a game. A game for adults—people who should have the freedom to try things, even if they’re risky. Because that’s what games are for.
It was actually a bit like this in the early days of EVE Online, too. MMOs were still undefined. There was a lot of scrutiny, a lot of uncertainty—but we worked through that.
We’re not trying to do anything harmful. We’re just building a game. What people do with it—we’ll handle that as it happens. And we’ll make it clear—with disclaimers and messaging—that players are stepping into an undefined space. It’s a crypto PvP MMO. You probably shouldn’t be doing this if you don’t understand the risks.
So same as you did with EVE Online scams in Jita local and contracts?
In a way, yeah. I mean, people will probably bring their schemes to the new game—and we’ll see messages like “send me your crypto and I’ll 10x it.”
But again, this is a game for adults. Adults are allowed to do dangerous things. You’re allowed to climb Mount Everest. You have to sign a disclaimer saying you forgo your right to live. You’ll most likely die reaching for the top—but you’re still allowed to try.
Behind the Curtain – CCP Hellmar the Player
EVE has always been about risk and player agency—even before crypto. Let’s circle back for a second. There’s a legend about King Charles of Sweden, who would walk among his people in disguise to better understand their lives. I’m curious—do you ever venture into EVE Online anonymously to experience the game from a player’s perspective?
I do, yes. I play the game as a regular player. Maybe once every three years I take a serious new player journey—play for about six months or so. I do it periodically. Usually, I end up making a very long PowerPoint with everything that could be improved. The team loves it (laughs).
“I try to approach it as a true new player – erase what I know, rediscover the game.”
But I try to approach it as a true new player—erase what I know, rediscover the game. I do it to understand the pain points that new players face, because they’re often underrepresented. For end-game and nullsec, we have the CSM—there’s no shortage of feedback there, and it’s decently represented. But new players? They often don’t have a voice. So that’s where I try to focus.
So when you do play, do you ever join others—or do you prefer flying solo?
I tend to play more as a solo player. It’s hard for me to play with others—because being either anonymous or not anonymous is a challenge in itself. If I’m using my own name, or if I’m clearly “playing,” then obviously my experience is different.
At the same time, pretending to be someone else isn’t something I enjoy. So I usually go solo or join a very small corp. I’ve done both. Occasionally I’ve even played in small CCP corps with a few others—which can be fun too.
So yeah, I do quite a bit of that—but always in a way that lets me experience the game more naturally.
Do you keep a main, or are you running an empire of alts?
I have characters all over New Eden, in various states of abandonment.
Any insights from your latest journey?
So it’s usually something about the UX, as we call it—the mixture where the user interface becomes a user experience. And there’s a lot of redundancy in EVE, where we’re doing similar things in different places, and they could be kind of congealed into more specialized systems.
I mean, a great example of that is what we’re doing with the map now. We’re taking all these map fragments all around the client and merging them into one proper map. So yeah, it’s often something about that.
But last time, I did something different—I used ChatGPT to tell me what to do in EVE. I’d ask things like: what does this module do, what kind of ship should I use for a task, and how should it be fitted? It was a very unique way to experience the game. Thanks to the huge amount of EVE information out there, ChatGPT actually knows quite a lot about how to play. I found that really interesting—and it guided me in some unusual directions.
And you succeeded, right?
Yeah, I did. It turned out to be a great experience. For a few weeks, I just kept asking ChatGPT what to do next—and followed it.
(Editor’s note: I actually tried something similar in Elite Dangerous—using ChatGPT as my ship AI, but in full EVE-speak. Surprisingly effective.)
A Dance Among Capsuleers
After everything—victories, mistakes, regrets, love, hate, and everything in between… are you still having fun?
Did you see me last night? (laughs loudly)
Yeah, I saw. I was filming the dancefloor for my upcoming EVE Fanfest trailer—caught you right there in the middle of the capsuleer storm.
Yeah, that was funny. And yes—it’s still a lot of fun, especially being back here in Harpa. Hard to believe it’s been seven years since we were last here. Feels like it could’ve been just last year.
Approaching Stargate
Interviewing Hilmar wasn’t just about ticking off a wishlist moment—it was about listening for something deeper. The quiet forces that still shape EVE. The weight of choices made long ago. The way this universe continues to evolve—not just as a game, but as something that lives inside the people who play it, and the people who build it.
Much like my conversation with CCP Burger, this wasn’t just about features or roadmaps—it was about feeling the current beneath it all. About understanding how much of EVE is still woven into the hearts of those behind it.
I didn’t just come here to ask questions. I came to see if the spark was still there. And after this conversation, I’m more certain than ever: New Eden’s best days aren’t behind it.
They’re loading—just like a stargate jump between solar systems.
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