Battlefield 6 Outage Map

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Battlefield 6 Issues Reports

Latest outage, problems and issue reports in social media:

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  SyndromeStoned (@SyndromeStoned) reported 10 minutes ago

  @BattlefieldComm Have had a real problem connecting to my favorite hard-core servers over the last 2 days

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  Miny Boy (@miny_boy) reported 13 minutes ago

  Session Twenty One: Dance Of The Squeebs The forest had barely settled back into silence after the death of the Tigore when the expedition's little camp became a battlefield of a completely different sort. Libra was still crouched over the enormous carcass, knife in hand, while Captain Nelva and the other researchers hovered around him in growing frustration, desperately trying to preserve what remained of their scientific specimen without actually preventing the party from turning it into dinner. “Stop cutting that part!” “Why?” “Because that's important!” “So is eating.” “It is a scientific specimen!” “And I'm hungry.” Nelva pinched the bridge of her nose. “I knew bringing adventurers was going to be difficult.” Libra continued cutting. “I can hear you.” “I meant it as a compliment.” “You're doing a terrible job.” Eventually, Nelva surrendered. “Fine! New arrangement. You can have the meat.” Libra paused. “And the rest?” “The researchers get the rest.” Rashare finally arrived at the scene, having apparently decided that his mushroom-related hunting disaster was enough humiliation for one day. He looked at the enormous Tigore. Then he looked at Libra. Then at the knife. “Move over.” Libra smiled. “Now this is teamwork.” The researchers reluctantly stepped back as the two rangers began working on the creature, while Nelva watched with the expression of someone who had just realized that scientific expeditions were considerably more complicated when the hired guards considered everything edible. Rashare worked carefully at first, but the Tigore was unlike anything he had ever butchered. The creature's anatomy was wrong. Not simply strange, but wrong in a way that made the researchers increasingly fascinated. The body was divided almost perfectly between two creatures. One section was unmistakably boar. The other was unmistakably tiger. There was no graceful blending of the two species, no intermediate anatomy, no evolutionary bridge between them. There was simply a line. A hard biological boundary. Rashare cut deeper. “Whoa.” Gwayne leaned closer. “What?” “Look at this.” He pointed. “You can actually see where one stops and the other starts.” Nelva crouched beside them. “My gods...” She examined the exposed tissue. “This isn't natural hybridization.” Dutchman returned from his investigation just in time to hear that. “No Witch-Tech?” “Not that I could find,” he said, looking disappointed. “But I still think they did this.” He had followed the creature's tracks through the forest until he discovered a massive mudhole surrounded by disturbed earth and patches of coarse boar fur. The tracks told an interesting story. Whatever the Tigore had been, it had apparently once been an ordinary boar. There was no obvious laboratory equipment, no strange machinery, no magical residue, and no evidence that anyone had deliberately created the creature. Just a very large animal's old home. “Looks like it lived here before it became... that,” Dutchman explained. Kai stared at the carcass from several feet away. “That's not exactly comforting.” “No,” Dutchman admitted. “It isn't.” Kai remained quiet. The others noticed. Something had changed in him since the fight. He had always been sarcastic, abrasive, and more than willing to make fun of whatever happened to be standing nearby, but now there was something underneath it all, something that made his jokes feel forced. He kept looking at his hands. At his shoulder. At the place where the strange symbol had appeared. The Witch-Tech experiments had happened years ago, but those three days remained fragmented inside his memory, broken pieces of pain, magic, machinery, needles, voices, and things he couldn't properly remember. He couldn't even tell where his own memories ended and whatever had been done to him began. Kai rubbed his arm. “What the hell did they do to me?” Nobody answered. Rashare made one final cut. Unfortunately, he rolled terribly. Even with the advantage. The blade slipped. The creature's guts split open. Rashare was immediately covered. His face. His hair. His clothes. His eyes. “AH!” He staggered backward, wiping his face. The researchers recoiled. “Oh, that's disgusting!” Rashare spat. “Worth it.” Nelva stared at him. “Are you all right?” “I've been worse.” “That's not reassuring.” The researchers eventually accepted the situation, mostly because the alternative was allowing the entire expedition to starve while they preserved every piece of the animal. Gwayne, however, was fascinated. He crouched beside the exposed flesh. “So these things might be Witch-Tech.” “Looks that way,” Dutchman said. Gwayne stared at the creature. “Well, it's you guys looking for these things that got me expelled.” Dutchman looked at him. “I'm pretty sure it was you smuggling booze into campus.” Rashare nodded. “And trying to start a riot.” “Yeah,” Dutchman added. “The hybrid stuff was just an extra.” Gwayne frowned. “You guys make me sound like I was the problem.” “You were.” “Fair.” Kai eventually wandered back toward the group, looking like a man who had seen something he desperately wished he hadn't. Dawn K. followed behind him, he seems to have followed the party on his own volition . The donkey's ears were lowered slightly as he walked. Kai glanced at him. “You told Arcades about your last name?” Dawn K. kept walking. “You chose Kobold?” The donkey didn't answer. “What is wrong with you?” Dawn K. continued chewing. Kai sighed. “You know what? I don't even want to know.” Dutchman, meanwhile, was having his own problems. The ghosts had returned. They appeared at the edges of his vision, drifting between the trees, sometimes disappearing behind trunks only to reappear somewhere else. One was a massive spider. Another looked vaguely humanoid. Somewhere nearby, an actual squirrel was watching everything. Dutchman decided that the squirrel was preferable. He approached it. “Hey, little guy.” The squirrel looked at him. “Need something?” The squirrel's head tilted. “Just watching.” “Watching what?” “That.” It gestured toward the dead Tigore. “That thing was very big.” Dutchman nodded. “Yes.” “And scary.” “Yes.” The squirrel stared at him. “Who are you?” “I'm a druid.” The squirrel blinked. “What's a druid?” Dutchman paused. “A forest protector.” The squirrel's eyes widened. “A forest protector?” “Yes.” “So you protect the forest?” “Exactly.” “And the trees?” “Yes.” “And the animals?” “Yes.” The squirrel nodded approvingly. “So you're like me and my friends.” Dutchman smiled. “Yes. Exactly.” The squirrel thought about this. “How do you protect them?” Dutchman hesitated. “Well... I burn down the forest on one side and regrow it on the other.” The squirrel stared. Dutchman waved his hand. “But that's neither here nor there.” The squirrel seemed willing to accept this. “So you're the boss around here?” Dutchman straightened. “I don't like the word boss.” He thought about it. “But yes, you can think of me as the big guy in charge.” The squirrel's expression suddenly became nervous. “I see.” “What?” “My boss is scary.” Dutchman leaned closer. “Your boss?” “He'd eat you.” Dutchman's eyes widened. “Very fast.” Suddenly, the ghosts seemed less interesting. “Oh.” The squirrel began backing away. “Can I meet your boss?” “My boss?” “Yes. Since I'm the big guy around here, it would probably be good for me to know the other big people.” The squirrel hesitated. “Sure.” “Excellent.” “I'll go get him.” “When?” “It'll take a while.” “Where does he live?” “Far away.” Dutchman nodded. “I'll wait.” The squirrel disappeared into the trees. Dutchman stood there proudly. Gwayne and Kai had watched the entire conversation. Neither understood a single thing. Gwayne finally whispered, “He's been saying squeak squeak, nut nut for like five minutes.” Kai nodded solemnly. “Yeah.” “He sounds completely insane.” “Absolutely.” Kai looked at Dutchman. “Without a doubt, he's one of the greatest druids I've ever met.” Gwayne looked at him. “You've met other druids?” “Before Dutchman, I thought I understood what a druid was.” Kai paused. “After Dutchman, I realized I knew nothing.” Gwayne nodded slowly. “Fair.” Kai sighed. “Best to let him handle the forest stuff.” He glanced toward Rashare. “And him.” Then toward Libra. “Maybe him.” From somewhere above them came Libra's voice. “I'm not a forest man.” The two looked up. Libra was sitting in a tree. “But I'm pretty good with them.” He held a piece of paper in one hand. Gwayne squinted. “What are you writing?” “Letter.” “To whom?” “None of your business.” He folded it. Then looked down at Dutchman. “Hey, Dutchman.” Dutchman looked up. “Didn't your mother ever tell you not to play with your food?” Dutchman looked toward the Tigore. “That's not food.” Libra smiled. “Yet.” Then the forest moved. Not the gentle sway of leaves. Not the rustling of branches. Something fast. A blur of fur and legs exploded from the undergrowth. Libra reacted instantly. He dropped the letter. “Hey, DM.” The Dungeon Master looked up. “I want to move quietly and follow that thing without it noticing me.” The DM stared at him. “That's called a Stealth check.” “Oh.” Libra nodded. “Let's do a Stealth check.” He rolled. Good enough. Libra disappeared into the trees. He moved from branch to branch, following the creature's path, his body almost becoming part of the forest itself. After several moments, he caught up. Then stopped. “What the...?” The creature wasn't a monster. Not exactly. It was a giant weasel. Except it had six legs. It was covered in thick fur and was so large that a dwarf could probably ride it. Libra stared. The creature stared back. Neither moved. Libra slowly raised one hand. “Hello?” The enormous six-legged weasel ferret blinked. Then bolted. Libra returned to camp shortly afterward. “I found something.” Kai looked over. “What?” “A giant six-legged ferret.” Dutchman immediately looked interested. “How big?” “Big enough for you to ride.” Dutchman stood up. “Where?” “Gone.” Dutchman sat back down. “Of course.” Rashare looked around the forest. “I think I saw one the other night.” Gwayne frowned. “So there are more?” “Probably.” Rashare shrugged. “Forest must be lousy with them.” Nelva wrote something down. “Six-legged mustelid... fascinating.” Kai looked around. “So that's normal?” Dutchman shrugged. “Apparently.” Kai sighed. “Good.” He looked at the dead Tigore. “Because I really don't want every weird thing we find out here to be Witch-Tech.” Nobody noticed that Nelva stopped writing for a moment. Her eyes lingered on the enormous hybrid corpse. Then she looked deeper into the forest. “Neither do I,” she quietly said. And somewhere far beyond the edge of the camp, hidden between the trees, something moved. Not a ghost. Not a squirrel. Not a six-legged weasel. Something else. Something that had been watching the expedition for a while. And for the first time, the forest felt less like a place the party was exploring... ...and more like a place that was exploring them. The camp settles into an uneasy rhythm as the party begins dealing with the practical problem of having somehow acquired far more meat than five adventurers, two horses, a donkey, a timid mule, and one increasingly questionable wagon could possibly eat, and Rashare stares at the enormous carcass of the Tigore as though he has just been handed the greatest culinary opportunity of his life. “We have a lot of meat,” he says slowly. Libra looks over the carcass, then at the wagon, then back at Rashare. “That is perhaps the greatest understatement anyone has made since we entered this forest.” Rashare nods solemnly. “We need to preserve it.” “Can’t freeze it,” Kai says, crouching beside the meat and examining it thoughtfully. “We’d have to carry enough ice to last weeks, and I don't think the forest is going to conveniently provide us with a magical freezer.” “We could smoke it,” Libra suggests. “That would take too long,” Rashare replies. “And we'd have to build a proper smoker.” Everyone looks at the enormous pile of meat. Kai scratches his chin. “Wait.” The entire party turns toward him. Kai's expression slowly changes into the look everyone has learned to fear, the look of a man who has just had an idea that is either brilliant or absolutely terrible. “You know how health potions last a really long time?” “Yes,” Gwyane says cautiously. “And how they're basically magical liquids?” “Yes…” “What if we pickle the meat in potions?” There is a long silence. Rashare slowly lowers the knife in his hand. Libra stares at Kai. Dutchman blinks. Finally, the Dungeon Master speaks. “No.” Kai frowns. “You didn't even think about it.” “I did.” “For how long?” “About three seconds.” “That's not enough.” “We don't have enough potions, Kai, and the potions are tiny. You'd need an absurd amount of them, and there's absolutely no guarantee that soaking meat in healing magic will preserve it.” Kai shrugs. “Worth a shot.” “Nice try, fish man.” Kai sighs. “Fine. Salt it is.” And so the party begins the decidedly unheroic task of salting a gigantic magical-hybrid pig-tiger carcass in the middle of the wilderness, with Rashare and Libra taking charge of the preservation while the others attempt to avoid thinking too hard about exactly what they're eating. It is during this grisly work that Kai notices Gwyane standing a short distance away, staring at the dead Tigore with an unusually serious expression. Kai watches him for a moment. “Hey, Gwyane.” “Hm?” “You know a lot about magic, right?” Gwyane immediately brightens. “Oh, absolutely! I'm an exceptionally talented sorcerer.” Kai gives him a sideways look. “Which is why you were kicked out.” Gwyane's smile disappears. “Are you here to insult me?” “No.” Kai pauses. “Yes.” Gwyane folds his arms. “But that's not the point.” Kai glances around to make sure nobody else is listening too closely. “What do you know about putting spells into people?” Gwyane's expression becomes curious. “Putting spells into people?” “Yeah. Like… normal people. Not freaks. Just regular people being made to do magic.” Gwyane's eyes light up. “Oh, there are many ways of doing that.” Kai immediately regrets asking. “There are binding spells, magical infusions, curses, hexes, forced magical conduits, rituals that can alter the connection between a person's body and the Weave—” Kai's stomach begins to churn. “...and some spells can essentially force a person to channel magical energy through themselves even if they weren't naturally capable of doing so.” “Magic people are freaky,” Kai mutters. Gwyane keeps going. “In some cases, magical effects can be anchored directly to a person's body, although the exact method depends on whether you're dealing with a curse, enchantment, transmutation, or some sort of external magical source.” Kai looks increasingly uncomfortable. “Right.” “And then there are warlocks.” Kai's eyes narrow. “What are those?” Gwyane explains, “Warlocks are spellcasters who gain their power through a pact with a powerful eldritch being, patron, ancient entity, archfey, fiend, or some other extraordinarily powerful creature.” Kai slowly looks toward Dutchman. “What's the magic like?” “Oh, all sorts,” Gwyane replies. “One of the most famous is Eldritch Blast.” “What does that do?” “It launches a powerful burst of unnatural magical energy at a target.” Kai thinks for a moment. “Dutchman has that Ghosty Wail thing.” Gwyane nods. “Sounds similar.” “But he's a druid.” “Correct.” Kai stares at Gwyane. Gwyane stares back. Kai sighs. “I wish I hadn't asked.” Before Gwyane can continue his lecture, Dutchman comes wandering back into camp, looking remarkably pleased with himself after his lengthy conversation with the squirrel. “Good news!” he announces. Kai looks up. “What did you do?” “Made a friend.” “That's never good news.” Dutchman ignores him. “The squirrel says those six-legged weasel things are apparently quite dangerous. They eat squirrels all the time.” “Wonderful,” Kai mutters. “Anyway, he had to leave to visit his boss, so we said our goodbyes.” Kai slowly raises an eyebrow. “You had a conversation with a squirrel.” “Yes.” “About its boss.” “Yes.” “And then you just let it leave?” “Yes.” Dutchman smiles. Kai stares at him. “You are unbelievable.” Dutchman turns toward Gwyane and Kai. “So, what were you two talking about?” “Oh,” Kai says. “Magic.” Dutchman's eyebrows rise. “Magic? You? Mr. I Hate Magic?” “Yeah. Gwyane was telling me all sorts of horrible **** about binding people, infusing people with magic, warlocks, eldritch powers…” Dutchman immediately interrupts. “Warlocks?” “Yeah.” “I've never heard of them.” “They get their powers from spooky eldritch beings.” Dutchman considers that. “That sounds terrible.” “Exactly.” “I am merely a druid.” Kai gives him a long look. “Yeah. You're one of the best I've ever seen.” Dutchman smiles proudly. “Thank you.” “That wasn't entirely a compliment.” Before the conversation can go any further, Dutchman suddenly remembers something. “Oh! The squirrel said we might have company.” Kai stops. “What kind of company?” “Well, apparently his boss might come here.” “When?” “Within a few hours, maybe.” Kai looks around the forest. “Who is his boss?” “The king of all squirrels, presumably.” Everyone goes quiet. Kai sighs. “Of course.” Rashare looks up from the meat. “Should we prepare?” Dutchman nods gravely. “Definitely.” Kai picks up a piece of salted meat and walks over to Dawn K. “Here.” He puts the meat onto the donkey's back. Dawn K. looks at him. Kai looks back. “What?” The donkey says nothing. “You want some.” Dawn K. continues staring. Kai sighs and gives him another piece. “There.” Arcades, meanwhile, is loading meat onto Veni. “Hey, Veni,” he asks, “you okay carrying all this?” “Oh, I'm fine.” “You sure?” “I’m not a donkey, but I can manage.” Arcades chuckles. “And the harness?” Veni shifts slightly. “It is… tight.” “I can loosen it.” “No!” Arcades freezes. Veni continues, “Someone once loosened their belt while still riding me, and they slid upside down onto my belly.” Arcades stares. “That sounds awful.” “It scratched me a little.” “That is awful.” “It was also funny as hell.” Veni pauses. “I wanted to piss on him.” Arcades nearly chokes. “But I was empty.” There is another pause. “Can I have an apple?” Arcades looks sadly through the trees. “I don't think there are any apples around here.” “Why?” “It's too dense. We haven't even seen many flowers.” Veni sighs. “This place is dreary.” Back at camp, everyone keeps an uneasy eye on the surrounding forest. Eventually, the squirrel returns. Dutchman immediately steps forward. “Ah! Your boss!” The squirrel looks at him. “Sorry.” Dutchman's smile fades. “He's busy.” “Busy doing what?” “Boss stuff.” “Can you take me to him?” “Nope.” “Why not?” “I have to go home.” Dutchman blinks. “You have to go home?” “Yeah. I've got a family.” “But your boss…” “I've got nuts to bury.” And with that, the squirrel disappears into the woods. Dutchman watches him go. He stands there silently for several seconds. Then he slaps his forehead. “I should have sent the raven after him.” Kai laughs. “You trusted a squirrel.” “I trusted him too much.” “You were talking to a squirrel.” “He was very convincing.” Nobody has a response to that. As the others return to camp and continue preparing the meat, Kai quietly separates himself from the group. He needs answers. The feeling inside his stomach has been getting worse ever since the Tigore attacked him, and the more he thinks about that strange white light, the less sense it makes. He walks deeper into the trees until the sounds of camp fade behind him. Then he stops. Kai closes his eyes. He remembers the Tigore. The roar. Arcades falling. The tusk coming toward him. That moment when something inside him seemed to awaken. The strange symbol. The white light. The portal. Kai breathes slowly. “Come on…” Nothing. He concentrates harder. His shoulder begins to ache. Then… FWOOM. The symbol appears. White geometric lines spread across his shoulder, forming something vaguely like a cross, but the shapes aren't quite right, almost as if they were written in a language Kai has never seen and yet somehow recognizes. He stares at it. “What the hell are you?” The symbol pulses. Kai touches his arm. The skin feels normal. Mostly. He pulls out his greatsword. He hesitates. “This is going to be stupid.” He looks around. “No one's here.” Kai raises the blade. Then, with a grimace, he carefully presses the sword into his arm. Instead of cutting flesh, the blade slips into a white portal. Kai freezes. “What?” He slowly pulls the sword back. The blade disappears into the portal and emerges from another one several feet away. Kai's eyes widen. He moves the sword. The second portal follows. He stops. The portal disappears. Kai stares at his arm. Then at the sword. Then back at his arm. “That…” He swallows. “That should not be possible.” His mind races back to Gwyane's explanation. Binding. Infusion. Magic forced into a body. Warlocks. Witch-Tech. Kai clenches his fist. “Are they combining it?” The thought makes his stomach twist. “Are they putting magic into people?” He looks down at the strange symbol. “Did they do this to me?” There is no answer. Only the faint white glow. Kai eventually shuts it down and returns to camp without telling anyone what he discovered. For now, it is his secret. By nightfall, the camp smells considerably better. Rashare has transformed the salvaged meat into a massive pot of stew, and despite everything, the strange hybrid origin, the questionable preservation methods, the blood, the mystery surrounding the creature, and the fact that their party seems incapable of having a normal day, the meal is surprisingly good. Kai sits near the fire with his bowl. He takes a bite. Chews. Considers. “Huh.” Libra looks over. “What?” Kai takes another bite. “Stringy.” Rashare looks offended. “It is good.” Kai nods. “Yeah.” He takes another spoonful. “It actually is.” Dutchman grins. “See? Nature provides.” Kai looks at him. “Don't start.” Gwyane laughs. Around them, the forest grows darker, the fire crackles, and the strange mystery surrounding the creatures becomes deeper rather than clearer. The Tigore was not simply a monster. It was half boar and half tiger. Magic seemed unable to repair it. Witch-Tech might be involved. And now Kai has discovered something even more frightening: whatever happened to him may have left something behind. Something magical. Something powerful. Something that is beginning to wake up. The days passed slowly through the forest, one after another blending together beneath the endless canopy, but for Kai, time was not doing much to quiet the questions that had been gnawing at him since the fight with the Tigore; if anything, every quiet night gave him more opportunity to remember that terrible moment when something inside him had taken control, the strange white light had appeared, and a creature many times his size had somehow been forced through a portal and destroyed by its own attack. Dutchman, meanwhile, had decided that perhaps it was best to give his mysterious bookshelf a little breathing room. The memory of watching a harmless-looking book transform into a monstrous creature that nearly killed Kai was still fresh enough that even Dutchman, whose standards for dangerous magical nonsense were considerably lower than everyone else's, had decided that perhaps he shouldn't casually feed any more books into the thing for a while. One afternoon, Kai spotted him sitting inside the wagon, hunched over a collection of scrolls and scribbling away. Kai approached the cart and leaned against the side. “Hey.” Dutchman looked up. “Hello, Kai.” “If you can take a break from doodling on those scrolls, I have a few… magical… questions.” Dutchman's face immediately lit up. “Oh?” Kai already regretted saying it. “Is this about the Tigore?” Kai narrowed his eyes. “Libra is such a ******* gossip.” Dutchman grinned. “So it is.” “Yes.” Kai glanced around the camp. “Follow me into the woods. I don't want Nelva seeing this.” From several feet away, Rashare happened to notice the two disappearing between the trees. He watched them go. Then he quietly made a mental note. Gwyane also noticed. Then Arcades noticed Gwyane noticing. The two exchanged a glance. Gwyane whispered, “Should we follow them?” Arcades nodded. “Probably.” And so the party's supposed magical investigation immediately became a secret investigation with two additional investigators secretly investigating the investigators. Kai eventually found a secluded clearing beneath a massive tree, far enough from the camp that nobody should have been able to overhear them. Edgar, Dutchman's strange magical bird companion, landed on a branch overhead and watched them with one beady eye. Dutchman barely had time to sit down before he raised his hand. “Detect Magic.” Kai sighed. “Without even asking?”

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  BUZZ3R (@BUZZ3RX) reported 14 minutes ago

  @BattlefieldComm fix the anti cheat errors causing game/pc to crash

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  Memphisblue (@Memphisblue4) reported 15 minutes ago

  @joellatto @Lorgarwasright2 see the same chapters deploying a company in every important battlefield which causes issues for a whole load of reasons, a problem which modern 40k very much suffers from, now everything revolves around the same few names over and over, its no longer about "your guys".

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  Changez (Chinggis Temujin Taizu ) Khan(Parody) (@ChangezTaizu) reported 15 minutes ago

  @KiranKS This has not been properly studied and understood, it rectified. Chanakya had warned against such issues centuries earlier. Kingdoms fell one by one to enemies who had no honorific in battlefield and used unacceptable tactics all the way to assam and south .

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  رمز (@hommyramz) reported 17 minutes ago

  @BattlefieldComm High pings my most concerned issue not addressed

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  How To Make War (@HowToMakeWar1) reported 22 minutes ago

  @saltyeng_ @johnkonrad The "I'm a tough guy veteran better than you because I'm in the real military" really gets old. You don't hear it much from veterans who were really deep into the **** — at Peleliu, Bastogne, Khe Shan — actually on the front lines, on point, day after brutal day. Those people think the other 85% of people in the military who never get anywhere near combat have soft, safe rear echelon duties. But they were polite and didn't bring it up in public discourse. And they used to be right, 85% of the people in the military were basically logistical support for the tiny 10-15% in combat. Now with the distributed battlefield, long range highly accurate missiles, and endless attrition warfare, we all get to be targets. In peer conflicts like WWII, Navy ships and submarines, and yes those pesky merchant mariner civilians on their big fat targets known as cargo ships, were near or in the front lines and combat and were in harms way a lot. Merchant Mariners had the highest death toll, at 4%, of any service in WWII. Every single crew member could be killed suddenly by a bomber or submarine attack. If war with China breaks out, and it's looking more likely it will before 2030, there won't be any rear echelon, and everyone will be in the combat zone.

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  Grace Livingston (@Grace_Livingstn) reported 25 minutes ago

  Another point is that I actually want to preserve that natural, bold spirit in my child. When I was little, my own parents perhaps kept me a bit too well-mannered at first, which led to a certain amount of shyness in interpersonal interactions for quite a long time. While I don't think it was a massive issue now, it likely acted as a bit of a hindrance for the younger version of me. Although my child is currently being raised by my ex in a way that I consider a complete mess—he doesn't pay proper attention, leaves her to be raised by the nanny to do whatever she pleases, and lets her spend all her remaining time watching TV and playing on the iPad, without her really learning much—my child does have one undeniable advantage: she is extremely bold, daring to do and say anything. That is actually a merit, and I think it's a great trait typical of American children. Being overly polite the way I was when I was little meant that I had to spend nearly several years, or even a decade, slowly learning to loosen up and become more relaxed, which isn't ideal either. That said, my own nature was never actually suppressed by my parents when I was a child. On the contrary, my parents really allowed me to do whatever I wanted, while still providing proper guidance, which I think was wonderful. I had a very happy childhood. I believe my child is unhappy right now because she lacks parental companionship. Neither side is there for her—I am not allowed to be, and her father simply doesn't have the time. I don't think her father doesn't want to spend time with her; it's more that he lacks the time. But if he doesn't have the time, why not let me accompany and care for her? That part is truly beyond comprehension. I don't want either parent to let fights or any other issues in their romance or relationship spill over into controlling the child or weaponizing her to make the other person suffer. First of all, I would never be that kind of person, and I know the future partner I choose wouldn't be either. I simply believe that kind of behavior is completely unnecessary. A child deserves love from both sides, so having love in the family is certainly important. But if problems do arise, a partner should truly never use a child as a battlefield to hurt the other person.

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  Xero Minded (@XeroMindedSY) reported 25 minutes ago

  @wrenfps Yeah this game is ***. The net code, pc to console Desync, The servers lag, the audio sucks, visibility still needs improvement, no server browser, no persistent servers, there’s clearly EOMM. @EA_DICE ******* SUCKS

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  PaulsCorner-VerseQuest (@TNTJohn1717) reported 27 minutes ago

  Galatians 4:16 expresses the shock every faithful servant eventually experiences: “Am I therefore become your enemy, because I tell you the truth?” Paul had once been received by the Galatians with extraordinary affection. He reminded them that they would have plucked out their own eyes and given them to him. But false teachers entered, corrupted their doctrine, and altered their attitude toward the apostle who had brought them the gospel. Paul had not become their enemy. He had not stopped loving them. He had not exchanged the gospel for some personal agenda. Yet because he told them the truth, they began treating him like an adversary. That is the insanity of deception: it persuades people that the man trying to keep them out of the ditch is dangerous while the man removing the warning signs is compassionate. The doctor who identifies the cancer becomes the enemy, while the quack selling flavored water is praised for his bedside manner. This becomes especially painful when the rejection comes from relatives, longtime friends, fellow church members, or people we have personally helped. Opposition from strangers may bruise the skin, but betrayal from familiar hands reaches the bone. The Lord warned in Matthew 10:36, “And a man’s foes shall be they of his own household.” He was not commanding family division; He was warning that allegiance to Him would sometimes reveal it. When one family member begins taking God seriously, the others may interpret his changed standards as a judgment upon them. Old friends may feel condemned because the Christian no longer participates in the same sins. Coworkers may call him self-righteous because he refuses to laugh at the same filth. Even religious people may resent him because he believes the Bible too plainly and refuses to dip every doctrine in syrup before serving it. At that point the Christian is tempted to weaken his testimony in order to restore the old comfort. But peace purchased by disobedience is only surrender wearing a smile. Chapter Four: The Devil’s Counterattack After a Victory I learned early in ministry that spiritual victories are frequently followed by personal attacks. During the years when I worked in youth ministry, I remember leading someone to the Lord and rejoicing that a soul had trusted Jesus Christ. Yet it often seemed that immediately afterward the devil came from every direction. Trouble would arise, discouragement would settle in, people would misunderstand something, or circumstances would become so difficult that I was tempted to think, “Was it worth it?” That is one of the enemy’s most calculated attacks. He cannot unsave the soul that has trusted Christ, so he attacks the servant who delivered the message. He wants the soul-winner to associate obedience with pain. He wants every future opportunity to carry the memory of the last counterattack. If he can make a Christian regret being useful, he may not be able to steal that Christian’s salvation, but he can frighten him away from the battlefield.

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  Andrew Lydiard (@andrewlydiard) reported 28 minutes ago

  @BattlefieldComm In RedSec, there are still some glaring issues like the Recon drone being unable to ping, which is kind of the entire point of it. The SVD still being overly oppressive, sniping being all but useless. These are CORE game issues you have to address sooner rather than later.

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  Jared (@The_Scrinn) reported 30 minutes ago

  @Battlefield fix your ******* rockets for **** sake

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  🅱️layke (@ekyalb) reported 31 minutes ago

  @BattlefieldComm The more of these updates that come out, the more I feel like they are just centered around player count and attention. If they actually started updating major issues I have a feeling more people would be coming back, but for some reason they don't see that.

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  Lt Gen H S Panag(R) (@rwac48) reported 32 minutes ago

  @dperi84 That is factual. Real issue is cost effectiveness in times of less than $500 drones. Have you heard of Javelin in Ukraine wef 2023? In 2022 it was the mainstay. Now, one more weapon on battlefield. In my view the deal is to keep defence ties going.

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  Aaron (@Aaron1511605) reported 36 minutes ago

  @Battlefield How about fixing the issues?! Sound, black screen? You devs are restarted. Glad Saudi’s bought you out. Now I hope they get people who know way ******** they are doing.