Dead by Daylight has built its identity on turning horror icons into mechanical threats, but Five Nights at Freddy’s hits a different nerve. This is a franchise rooted in anticipation, audio cues, and the panic that comes from not knowing if you’re already dead. According to the Dead by Daylight team, that shared DNA is exactly why this collaboration didn’t just make sense, it felt inevitable.
A Horror Language Dead by Daylight Already Speaks
Behaviour Interactive has spent years teaching players to fear sound, timing, and imperfect information. That’s the backbone of Five Nights at Freddy’s, where survival isn’t about DPS checks or looping efficiency, but about managing limited tools while pressure escalates. The developers described FNAF as “pure psychological horror,” something Dead by Daylight has been leaning into more heavily with recent Killers designed around map control and mental stack rather than raw chase speed.
In internal discussions, the team reportedly kept coming back to how naturally FNAF’s tension maps onto DbD’s asymmetrical structure. Survivors already juggle generators, terror radius mind games, and RNG spawns; layering in a FNAF-style threat amplifies that stress without needing to reinvent the core loop. It’s less about jump scares and more about sustained dread, which is where Dead by Daylight thrives at high MMR.
Why the Timing Finally Clicked
This crossover wasn’t a case of “why not sooner,” but “why not until now.” The developers emphasized that Dead by Daylight needed the right mechanical foundation before tackling Five Nights at Freddy’s. Over the last few years, DbD has expanded its design vocabulary, adding Killers that break traditional chase rules and Survivors that interact more directly with the environment.
At the same time, Five Nights at Freddy’s has evolved beyond its indie roots into a multimedia horror juggernaut. With renewed interest from new games and broader lore discussions, the franchise is no longer just about jump scares; it’s about mythos, timelines, and unsettling implications. That evolution made it easier for Behaviour to integrate FNAF into DbD’s Entity-driven universe without it feeling like a novelty skin pack.
Respecting the Source Without Breaking the Game
One of the biggest challenges the developers highlighted was preserving what makes Five Nights at Freddy’s iconic without undermining Dead by Daylight’s balance. FNAF is traditionally about stationary defense and reactive play, while DbD is built on movement, chase, and spatial awareness. Bridging that gap required careful design so the Killer feels oppressive without becoming uncounterable or gimmicky.
The team stressed that this collaboration wasn’t about recreating a security office beat-for-beat. Instead, it’s about translating the emotional experience of FNAF into DbD’s systems. Players should feel watched, hunted, and punished for complacency, but still have room for skill expression, mind games, and clutch decision-making.
What This Collaboration Signals for the Future
From the developers’ perspective, Five Nights at Freddy’s represents a turning point for licensed content in Dead by Daylight. This isn’t just another horror icon with a recognizable silhouette; it’s a franchise built on atmosphere and player psychology. Successfully integrating that opens the door for even more experimental crossovers down the line.
They were clear that this partnership is meant to resonate beyond hype. It’s a statement about where Dead by Daylight is headed as a live-service horror platform, one confident enough in its mechanics to absorb radically different horror philosophies. For both communities, this isn’t just a crossover, it’s a test of how far asymmetrical horror can evolve without losing what makes it terrifying.
From Security Office to The Fog — Translating FNaF Horror into Dead by Daylight’s Asymmetrical Design
What makes this crossover compelling is that Behaviour didn’t try to force Five Nights at Freddy’s into Dead by Daylight’s mold. Instead, the developers talked about identifying the emotional core of FNaF and rebuilding it using DbD’s asymmetrical language. The goal wasn’t to recreate jump scares on a timer, but to make Survivors feel constantly assessed, pressured, and one mistake away from disaster.
That design philosophy carries real weight in a game where chase flow, map control, and information denial decide matches. FNaF’s horror had to become systemic, not scripted, or it simply wouldn’t survive DbD’s high-skill ecosystem.
Turning Surveillance Horror into Active Pressure
In interviews, the team repeatedly came back to surveillance as FNaF’s defining mechanic. Cameras, blind spots, and partial information are what make players feel unsafe, and Behaviour leaned into that rather than pure mobility or raw DPS. The Killer’s kit is designed to create moments where Survivors know danger is coming but lack perfect clarity on when or from where.
This taps directly into DbD’s mind-game meta. Survivors are forced to choose between objective efficiency and information gathering, creating tension similar to checking cameras versus conserving power in FNaF. That push-and-pull mirrors high-level DbD decisions, where one second of hesitation can cost a health state or a gen.
Fear Without Losing Counterplay
One concern the developers acknowledged early was avoiding a Killer that feels oppressive without interaction. FNaF’s animatronics are relentless in their own games, but DbD demands readable counterplay, I-frame windows, and opportunities to outplay through positioning. To solve that, Behaviour emphasized telegraphing threat rather than hiding it completely.
Survivors aren’t meant to feel helpless; they’re meant to feel hunted. Audio cues, environmental tells, and power ramp-up windows give skilled players room to adapt, while still punishing tunnel vision and poor routing. It’s fear rooted in awareness, not cheap surprise.
Adapting FNaF Lore to The Entity’s Rules
Lore was another balancing act. Five Nights at Freddy’s is infamous for fragmented storytelling and fan-driven theories, while Dead by Daylight operates on a more unified mythos centered on The Entity. The developers explained that the crossover treats FNaF’s characters as already broken, already cursed, making their arrival in The Fog feel inevitable rather than forced.
By framing the animatronic horror through The Entity’s lens, Behaviour preserves FNaF’s ambiguity without rewriting its history. Longtime fans will recognize familiar themes of loss and obsession, while DbD players get a Killer whose presence feels justified within the game’s established cosmology.
Why This Design Matters for DbD’s Future
This collaboration is less about spectacle and more about proof of concept. Behaviour is showing it can absorb franchises built on radically different mechanics and still produce balanced, competitive gameplay. That’s a big statement for a live-service title entering its second decade.
For players, it means future crossovers don’t have to play it safe. If FNaF’s slow-burn, psychological horror can thrive in Dead by Daylight’s chase-driven format, the ceiling for licensed content just got significantly higher.
The Animatronic Threat — Killer Concept, Power Design, and Gameplay Identity
With the philosophical groundwork laid, the conversation naturally shifted to the hardest question: what does a Five Nights at Freddy’s Killer actually play like in Dead by Daylight? Behaviour made it clear this wasn’t about recreating jump scares one-to-one, but translating the animatronics’ oppressive presence into a chase-based ecosystem that lives and dies on readability.
The result is a Killer designed to control space, information, and survivor decision-making rather than raw mobility. Think pressure over time, not instant downs. The animatronic isn’t sprinting at you like Blight; it’s closing doors, cutting exits, and daring you to make the wrong call.
A Killer Built Around Presence, Not Speed
Developers described the animatronic as a threat you feel even when it’s not directly in chase. Its power revolves around zone denial and delayed punishment, forcing survivors to constantly weigh risk versus progress. Stay on the gen too long, ignore environmental warnings, and the cost escalates fast.
This approach keeps the Killer dangerous without breaking DbD’s core chase grammar. Survivors still have pallets, vaults, and I-frame windows, but optimal routing becomes harder as the animatronic’s influence spreads. It’s less about reaction time and more about situational awareness.
Power Design That Rewards Planning Over Tunneling
One key insight from the devs was a deliberate move away from tunnel-heavy incentives. The animatronic’s power scales better when multiple survivors are interacting with the map, not when one player is relentlessly targeted. That creates natural slowdown without hard gen regression spam.
From a gameplay standpoint, this gives the Killer a unique identity in the roster. It excels at mid-game control, where survivors are split between objectives and healing, and mistakes compound. Strong teams can manage the threat, but sloppy coordination gets punished brutally.
Information as the Real Weapon
Information denial and manipulation sit at the heart of the animatronic’s kit. Audio cues, environmental feedback, and escalating danger states replace traditional stealth. Survivors often know something bad is coming; they just don’t know exactly when or from where.
That design philosophy mirrors FNaF’s DNA while respecting DbD’s competitive needs. Fear doesn’t come from RNG jump scares, but from being aware you’re on a clock. Every second spent hesitating is value for the Killer.
A New Gameplay Identity for Licensed Killers
Behaviour was candid about what this means long-term. The animatronic isn’t meant to be “the FNaF Killer” in a novelty sense; it’s a test case for deeper, system-driven licensed designs. Powers that reshape how survivors read the map, not just how fast a Killer can end a chase.
For players, that signals a shift in how crossovers might be handled going forward. Licensed Killers don’t have to be simplified to fit DbD’s mold. As this animatronic proves, they can introduce new mental pressures, new pacing, and new forms of fear without sacrificing balance or counterplay.
Tone, Tension, and Fear — Preserving FNaF’s Psychological Horror Within DbD’s Slasher Framework
Shifting from mechanics to mood, Behaviour stressed that tone was the non-negotiable pillar of the collaboration. Five Nights at Freddy’s isn’t about sprinting chases or raw DPS pressure; it’s about dread building in the margins. The challenge was translating that slow-burn anxiety into a game where survivors are constantly moving, looping, and optimizing pathing.
Rather than forcing FNaF to play like a traditional slasher, the devs leaned into tension as a system. Fear comes from anticipation and incomplete information, not from sudden jump-scare spikes. That philosophy guided everything from sound design to how the Killer occupies space on the map.
Psychological Pressure Over Jump Scares
Behaviour was clear they didn’t want cheap pop scares undermining competitive clarity. DbD lives and dies by readable states, and pure jump scares would clash with hitbox expectations and I-frame timing. Instead, FNaF’s horror manifests through mounting pressure, where survivors know they’re being watched or influenced but can’t pinpoint the threat.
This preserves FNaF’s core identity without breaking DbD’s rhythm. You’re not screaming because something appeared instantly; you’re tense because you stayed too long, misread a cue, or ignored a warning sign. That anxiety compounds over time, especially in coordinated matches where hesitation costs gens.
Audio, Atmosphere, and Environmental Storytelling
Sound design became one of the most important tools in the crossover. Subtle mechanical hums, distant movement cues, and distorted audio feedback replace traditional terror radius mind games. Survivors are constantly parsing noise, trying to determine whether it’s flavor or function.
The devs emphasized that this mirrors how FNaF communicates danger. Audio isn’t just aesthetic; it’s actionable information that can be misread under stress. In DbD terms, that creates moments where players second-guess rotations, delay vaults, or abandon strong tiles out of pure uncertainty.
Respecting DbD’s Pacing Without Diluting FNaF’s Identity
One of the tightest balancing acts was keeping matches from stalling into passive fear loops. Behaviour wanted tension without paralysis, ensuring survivors still feel empowered to make plays. Pallets, vaults, and chase fundamentals remain intact, but the emotional cost of using them changes.
That’s where the collaboration shines. The animatronic doesn’t just chase; it looms, controls space, and punishes indecision. It’s horror that lives in the downtime between actions, not just in the chase itself.
Why This Tone Matters for Both Franchises
For Five Nights at Freddy’s, this crossover reframes the series as more than jump-scare folklore. It positions FNaF as a psychological horror brand that can adapt to deeper, systemic gameplay without losing its soul. That’s a major step for a franchise often misunderstood by outsiders.
For Dead by Daylight, it’s proof the game can host wildly different horror subgenres without flattening them into the same slasher mold. Behaviour isn’t just adding killers; it’s importing fear philosophies. If this collaboration lands with players, it opens the door for future licenses to bring their own unique forms of tension into the Fog.
Lore Entanglement — How the FNaF Mythos Intersects with The Entity’s Realm
If audio and pacing are how players feel the crossover, lore is how it earns legitimacy. Behaviour didn’t want Five Nights at Freddy’s to feel like a themed skin pack dropped into the Fog. The devs repeatedly stressed that the animatronic’s presence needed a narrative reason to exist under The Entity’s rules, not alongside them.
That meant treating FNaF’s mythology with the same seriousness as DbD’s original killers. Trauma, repetition, and unresolved guilt are the connective tissue, and those themes slot disturbingly well into The Entity’s feeding grounds.
The Entity’s Interest in Endless Surveillance and Failure
At its core, FNaF is about being watched, monitored, and punished for lapses in attention. Behaviour’s writers saw that as a perfect lure for The Entity, which thrives on cycles of hope and failure rather than clean kills. The animatronic isn’t just violent; it’s patient, methodical, and relentless in enforcing mistakes.
Developers explained that The Entity doesn’t just abduct killers with rage, but those defined by obsessive purpose. In that framing, an animatronic bound to routine, control, and enforced consequence becomes less of an anomaly and more of an ideal servant.
Recontextualizing the Animatronic as a DbD Killer
Rather than importing a singular jump-scare monster, the team focused on the idea of a presence shaped by repeated nights and endless resets. That loop mirrors DbD’s trials almost one-to-one. Survivors repair gens; night guards check cameras. Both are systems where failure snowballs fast.
Lore-wise, the animatronic doesn’t need to understand The Entity to serve it. It already exists to enforce a system. The Fog simply widens the stage, giving it new prey and new rules while preserving its original function.
Survivors as Participants, Not Just Victims
One key insight from the devs is that FNaF’s horror works because the player is complicit. You choose which camera to watch, which door to power, and which risk to ignore. Behaviour leaned into that by framing survivors as active participants in the animatronic’s game, not random sacrifices.
In the Entity’s Realm, survivors aren’t just running from a killer. They’re managing attention, prioritizing threats, and constantly wondering if they’re focusing on the wrong thing. That psychological pressure is where the lore and gameplay fully align.
Why This Crossover Fits DbD’s Expanding Mythology
Dead by Daylight’s lore has slowly shifted from slasher archetypes to conceptual horror. Killers are no longer just people with knives; they’re manifestations of obsession, belief, and punishment. FNaF slides into that evolution naturally.
The devs hinted that this collaboration wasn’t about rewriting either canon, but letting them overlap where it hurts most. The Entity doesn’t erase what came before. It weaponizes it, and in doing so, turns familiar FNaF themes into something that can haunt players far beyond a single night shift.
What Players Can Expect — Characters, Cosmetics, Maps, and Audio Design Highlights
All of that thematic groundwork feeds directly into what players will actually touch in a match. Behaviour was clear that this crossover isn’t just about recognition value; it’s about delivering mechanics, visuals, and sound design that reinforce FNaF’s core tension inside DbD’s trial-based structure.
From killer design to map flow, the goal is to make players feel like they’re constantly managing limited information while something patient and procedural closes in.
A Killer Built Around Pressure, Not Pure Chase
Rather than leaning on raw movement speed or flashy powers, the animatronic killer is framed as a controller of space and attention. The devs described its kit as something that punishes tunnel vision, forcing survivors to split focus between objectives, positioning, and looming threats that may not be immediately visible.
In practice, this means pressure ramps up the longer a trial goes on. Survivors who overcommit to gens without tracking the killer’s presence risk cascading mistakes, while coordinated teams that communicate well can mitigate some of that stress. It’s less about winning chases cleanly and more about who cracks first under sustained mental load.
Survivors, Skins, and Fan-Service Done with Restraint
On the survivor and cosmetic side, Behaviour emphasized authenticity over excess. Expect outfits and visual references that FNaF fans will immediately recognize, but grounded enough to fit DbD’s grim tone rather than breaking immersion.
The devs stressed that cosmetics aren’t just nostalgia bait. Animations, silhouettes, and material textures were tuned so that readability in chase remains intact. No oversized hitboxes, no confusing visual noise, just clear identity layered on top of competitive clarity.
A Map That Rewards Awareness and Punishes Complacency
The map design is where the collaboration arguably comes together most cleanly. Instead of a sprawling environment, the layout favors tighter spaces, sightline control, and areas where sound cues matter as much as visuals.
Developers hinted that familiar FNaF-inspired rooms and layouts are reinterpreted through DbD’s looping philosophy. Strong tiles exist, but they’re intentionally offset by zones that feel unsafe if survivors linger too long. It’s a map that rewards routing knowledge and smart rotations, not autopilot looping.
Audio Design as a Core Gameplay System
Audio might be the unsung star of this crossover. Behaviour’s sound team leaned heavily into subtle mechanical cues, ambient hums, and directional audio to recreate FNaF’s trademark dread without relying on jump scares.
For survivors, listening becomes as important as looking. Miss a cue and you may walk straight into danger. For the killer, sound is a tool to herd, mislead, and apply pressure without constant visual contact. The devs were clear: if you play this chapter with your volume low, you’re actively handicapping yourself.
Why This Content Signals a Bigger Shift for DbD
Taken together, these elements reflect Behaviour’s growing confidence in slower, more psychological killer designs. The FNaF collaboration isn’t just another licensed drop; it’s a signal that DbD is willing to experiment with tension that comes from anticipation rather than pure aggression.
For long-time players, that means a meta shake-up that rewards awareness and discipline. For FNaF fans, it’s a translation of familiar fear into a multiplayer space that never truly resets. Every match is another night, and the system is always watching.
Balancing Fear and Fairness — Live-Service Challenges, Playtesting, and Community Feedback
Translating Five Nights at Freddy’s into Dead by Daylight wasn’t just a tonal challenge, it was a systemic one. Behaviour repeatedly stressed that fear can’t come at the cost of fairness, especially in a live-service ecosystem where one overtuned mechanic can warp the entire meta overnight.
FNaF thrives on helplessness and limited information. DbD, by contrast, lives and dies on player agency. The core task for the team was figuring out how to make survivors feel vulnerable without stripping them of counterplay.
Designing Tension Without Breaking the Meta
According to the developers, early prototypes leaned too hard into pure denial mechanics. Limited vision, delayed actions, and pressure-based abilities initially pushed matches toward frustration rather than fear.
Those versions didn’t survive internal playtests. Behaviour explained that any mechanic that consistently removed player choice, even if it was thematically perfect, was either reworked or cut entirely.
What survived were tools that create hesitation instead of hard stops. Information distortion replaces full blindness, and pressure ramps up through timing windows and positioning rather than unavoidable states. Fear becomes something players manage, not something that simply happens to them.
Iterative Playtesting and Killer-Survivor Parity
The team emphasized that this chapter went through heavier iteration than most licensed content. Asymmetrical balance is already fragile, and introducing a killer rooted in psychological pressure made parity even harder to maintain.
Internal metrics focused heavily on chase duration, average generator completion times, and escape rates across skill brackets. If fear mechanics shortened chases too dramatically or stalled survivor progress without meaningful interaction, they were flagged immediately.
Behaviour also pointed out that they deliberately tested against coordinated SWF groups, not just solo queue conditions. If a design only works because survivors aren’t communicating, it doesn’t belong in DbD’s long-term ecosystem.
Learning From Past Live-Service Pitfalls
Developers were candid about lessons learned from earlier chapters. Overloaded kits, overly complex add-ons, and mechanics that read well on paper but collapsed under live conditions were all cited as cautionary tales.
With FNaF, restraint became the guiding principle. Fewer mechanics, clearer rules, and stronger visual and audio tells ensure that even new players understand why they lost a chase or failed a rotation.
This approach also makes the content more future-proof. As perks, maps, and killers continue to evolve, a clean foundation is far easier to tune than a tangled web of conditional effects and exceptions.
Community Feedback as a Balancing Tool
Behaviour was clear that launch balance isn’t the finish line. PTB feedback, especially from high-MMR players and content creators, is treated as critical data rather than noise.
The devs highlighted that they pay close attention to frustration signals, not just win rates. If players report that something feels cheap, unclear, or oppressive even when statistically balanced, that feedback triggers investigation.
This mindset is especially important for a crossover with a fanbase as passionate as FNaF’s. Behaviour wants newcomers to feel intrigued, not punished, while ensuring DbD veterans don’t feel like their game has been hijacked by spectacle.
Why This Balance Philosophy Matters Going Forward
The FNaF collaboration represents a litmus test for DbD’s next phase as a live-service horror platform. If Behaviour can successfully integrate fear-driven mechanics without destabilizing competitive integrity, it opens the door for more experimental licenses down the line.
For players, that means a healthier meta where tension and fairness coexist. For the studio, it’s proof that DbD can keep evolving without losing its identity.
Fear may be the hook, but balance is what keeps people playing.
A Milestone Crossover — What This Partnership Signals for Dead by Daylight’s Future
What ultimately elevates the Five Nights at Freddy’s crossover isn’t just its star power, but what it represents for Dead by Daylight’s trajectory as a platform. This isn’t a one-off guest appearance designed to spike engagement for a season. According to the developers, it’s a proof point that DbD can absorb massive horror IPs without bending its core rules or fracturing its player base.
The FNaF deal also reflects a shift in confidence. Behaviour is no longer asking whether a license can fit Dead by Daylight, but how deeply it can be woven in without compromising chase readability, map flow, or long-term balance.
From “Can We?” to “How Well Can We?”
The devs described this collaboration as one of the most carefully scoped licenses they’ve ever tackled. FNaF’s identity is rooted in tension, surveillance, and information denial, concepts that map cleanly onto DbD’s stealth and mind-game-driven chases.
Rather than importing jumpscares wholesale, Behaviour focused on translating that anxiety into actionable gameplay. Line-of-sight control, audio cues, and positional pressure all echo FNaF’s DNA while still respecting DbD fundamentals like counterplay windows and loop mastery.
This design philosophy suggests future crossovers won’t be surface-level reskins. If an IP can’t be expressed through DbD’s systemic language, it likely won’t make the cut.
Raising the Bar for Licensed Killers
Internally, the team sees this chapter as a new benchmark. Licensed killers can no longer rely solely on recognizability; they have to justify their slot in the roster through mechanics that are readable at low MMR and expressive at high MMR.
The FNaF killer was built to reward map awareness and timing rather than raw numbers. Missed ability usage creates downtime. Good survivor comms and rotations matter. That’s a deliberate push away from killers that dominate through oppressive zoning or unavoidable damage states.
For veterans, this signals a healthier future meta. For newcomers drawn in by FNaF, it creates a learning curve that feels tense but fair.
Expanding DbD’s Horror Tone Without Dilution
Tone was another major talking point. FNaF occupies a different emotional space than DbD’s slasher-heavy lineup, leaning more into dread than gore.
Behaviour embraced that contrast rather than sanding it down. Environmental storytelling, sound design, and pacing were all adjusted to let silence and anticipation do the work, proving DbD doesn’t need constant action to maintain pressure.
That tonal flexibility opens doors. Psychological horror, analog horror, and even slower-burn franchises suddenly feel viable within The Fog.
A Blueprint for the Next Era of Crossovers
Perhaps the most important takeaway is structural. The devs framed this partnership as a template for future collaborations, one where lore integration, gameplay clarity, and community expectation management are all locked in from day one.
This approach reduces the risk of post-launch reworks and emergency nerfs that have plagued past chapters. It also builds trust, both with players and with licensors watching closely from the sidelines.
Dead by Daylight isn’t just collecting horror icons anymore. It’s curating them, and the FNaF crossover is the clearest signal yet that Behaviour knows exactly where it wants the game to go next.
Final Thoughts from the Devs — Why This Collaboration Means So Much to Both Fanbases
As the conversation wrapped, it was clear this wasn’t just another licensed chapter for Behaviour. The devs consistently framed the Five Nights at Freddy’s crossover as a shared responsibility, one where honoring player expectations mattered as much as shipping content on schedule.
They know both communities are fiercely protective. DbD players care about mechanical integrity and long-term balance, while FNaF fans scrutinize tone, lore, and character portrayal down to the smallest audio cue.
Meeting Two Very Different Player Expectations
From the devs’ perspective, the biggest challenge was reconciling how each fanbase experiences fear. Dead by Daylight players are trained to read tiles, manage cooldowns, and squeeze value out of I-frames, while FNaF fans are used to vulnerability, limited information, and slow-building panic.
The solution was designing systems that reward knowledge without killing tension. The killer’s power gives survivors counterplay through positioning and awareness, but mistakes are still punished hard. That overlap, according to the team, is where both audiences meet.
Respecting FNaF’s Legacy Without Breaking DbD
Behaviour stressed that nothing from FNaF was brought in “just because it’s iconic.” Every animation, sound, and mechanic had to serve gameplay first, then reinforce lore.
That mindset is why the chapter avoids excessive jump-scare design or RNG-heavy outcomes. Fear comes from anticipation and audio pressure, not cheap spikes. For DbD regulars, that keeps matches readable. For FNaF fans, it preserves the franchise’s identity in a multiplayer space that could have easily overwhelmed it.
What the Devs Want Players to Take Away
When asked what success looks like, the answer wasn’t player counts or Twitch numbers. It was longevity. The team wants this killer and map to still feel fair, scary, and worth mastering months after release.
They also want this crossover to reset expectations. Licensed content doesn’t have to mean power creep, rushed perks, or lore hand-waving. It can be deliberate, balanced, and built to last.
For players on both sides, the message is simple. This collaboration isn’t about merging brands, it’s about expanding what horror multiplayer can be when developers trust the source material and the community equally.
If you’re jumping in day one, the best advice from the devs is to slow down, listen, and learn the rhythms of the new chapter. The scares hit harder when you stop sprinting for gens and start paying attention to the silence.