Embracing the Journey—Not Just the Destination

Recently, I’ve come to an important realization: it’s okay to accept the mistakes and failures we’ve made in the past. It takes time to process them—to stop feeling like they define who we are. For a long time, I carried the weight of not succeeding in the way people expected with Genesis: Battle of Champions. I had hoped it would become a global success, to shape the industry, and to put us—especially as Canadian developers—on the map.

I genuinely wanted to chart a new course. But the fact that I didn’t reach that level of success doesn’t make me a failure. It doesn’t make me a bad person. In fact, I did something incredible. I pursued a childhood dream. I broke new ground. And while I didn’t achieve every goal, I experienced success in ways that matter deeply.

Genesis was played all over the world. I traveled to Germany, to different parts of the U.S. I met people who enjoyed what we built. I received letters from fans expressing how much the game meant to them. Those are wins—real ones.

But when you close a project and announce that you’re stepping away, people don’t always respond how you hope. A few voices of disappointment can feel like the entire world turning its back. I internalized that. I assumed everyone was frustrated or angry with me. But the truth? That wasn’t the case. And projecting the feelings of a few onto the many was unfair—to them, and to myself.

A close friend of mine is currently going through something similar—what feels like a personal “divorce” from a part of his life. He believes everyone hates him because one person does. I recognize that mindset because I’ve lived it. And now I know: people are far more forgiving than we give them credit for. Especially when we approach them with honesty.

It’s been two years since I closed Haunted Castle Gaming. I’m finally seeing it not as a blemish, but as a stepping stone. Something that shaped me. I built deep, meaningful relationships with partners—I never saw them as clients. I fought for the environment while building the game. I prioritized ethics, always trying to create value without causing harm. That’s who I was, and who I still want to be.

Moving forward, I’ll take these lessons with me. I’ll carry the values that mattered most—trust, intention, sustainability, and care for others. To everyone who supported me along the way: thank you. And to those I lost touch with—that was on me. I closed those doors, not you. But I’m opening them again now. And I hope, when I reach out, you’ll be there.

Regards,

— Assad Quraishi

Lesson Learned:
Failure isn’t the end of the story—it’s a chapter in the journey. Closing one door doesn’t erase everything you’ve built. It’s okay to mourn what didn’t work out, but it’s essential to celebrate what did. The connections made, the values held, and the risks taken—all of these are wins. By owning your past and reconnecting with your purpose, you can move forward stronger, more grounded, and ready for the next big step.