Echoes from New Eridu: A Proxy’s Journey Through the 2024 Zenless Zone Zero PS5 Test

The neon lights of New Eridu pulsed through the screen like a heartbeat that refused to fade. In 2026, the city still thrived—vibrant, dangerous, and impossibly alive—but for Elias, every street corner whispered of a memory he could never quite shake. He leaned back in his chair, controller in hand, and let the familiar hum of the Hollows consume him. Two years had passed since he’d first set foot in this post-apocalyptic sanctuary, yet the chill of that first night during the Zenless Zone Zero PlayStation 5 Technical Test clung to him like a ghost.

It was April 2024 when the announcement appeared on his feed, almost too good to be true. HoYoverse was inviting console players to step into the shoes of a Proxy—a guide navigating the last bastion of urban civilization—and the call felt personal. Elias still remembered the exact date: Wednesday, April 10, 2024, at 11 a.m. GMT+8. The registration window slammed open with the force of a Supernatural W-Engine, and his fingers trembled as he filled out the survey. For seven days, until April 17 at 3 p.m., hope simmered beneath every mundane task. Would he be chosen? Who wouldn’t be anxious when only a limited number of accounts would be granted access, with no payment options and the cruel promise that all progress would be wiped clean when the test ended?

He remembered the strict instructions: 40GB of free space, a stable internet connection, and a mind prepared for the unpredictable. The test was international, stretching across Europe, the Americas, Asia, and TW, HK, MO—a true global gathering of potential Proxies. When the acceptance email finally arrived, the email subject line felt like an invitation to another world. And indeed, it was. The moment he downloaded the client and the city of New Eridu materialized, he understood why HoYoverse had called this a technical test. The world wasn’t just a backdrop; it was a living, breathing entity scarred by the cataclysm of the Hollows.

Elias spent those beta weeks in a trance. He met the Cunning Hares—Nicole Demara’s reckless grin etched into his memory as surely as the concrete slabs of Sixth Street. He learned the rhythm of combat, that dance of chain attacks and Perfect Dodges that made the DualSense controller sing. The test had no payment options, but that only heightened the purity of the experience. There was no grinding for currency, no pressure to spend; every victory belonged solely to skill. Of course, the shadow of data deletion loomed. Every login was bittersweet because he knew that when the servers went dark, his proxy avatar, his carefully collected Bangboos, and his team compositions would vanish like whispers in the Hollow.

What kept him glued to the screen wasn’t just the combat. It was the narrative threads that wove through every commission. He chose Belle as his proxy companion, though Wise’s calm voice sometimes made him second-guess the decision. The test, however, restricted players to a taste of the full story, and like a half-heard melody, it left him craving more. He often wonders: if data deletion hadn’t erased his progress, would his connection to the game be as profound today? Perhaps that forced ending was the real gift—it taught him that New Eridu was never just about save files, but about the moments that refused to be stored.

After the test concluded, Elias followed Zenless Zone Zero’s social media accounts obsessively, refreshing X and Facebook for updates on the exact start and end times of the actual beta phase. The official launch in 2024 on iOS, Android, PC, and PlayStation 5 felt like a reunion. The game had grown—new factions, fully voiced characters, and the polished gleam of a title that had left its cradle. Yet for Elias, nothing quite matched the rawness of that early technical test. The FAQ page had warned him this was a glimpse, not a promise, but that glimpse burned brighter than any full release.

Now, in 2026, as Elias navigates a newly opened expansion of the Hollows with a squad he’s spent two years perfecting, he occasionally pulls up old screenshots from the test. They are grainy memories captured on his phone—images of error pop-ups, hilarious ragdoll physics, and the first time he beat an Ethereal boss with only a sliver of health. Those moments, though deleted from the server, are etched into his identity as a player. The question that often surfaces in his mind during late-night sessions is simple: Was the technical test really just about server stress and bug hunting, or did HoYoverse secretly want to build a legion of believers who would carry New Eridu’s spirit into the future? Judging by the millions who now play daily, the answer is written in every corner of the city.

Elias smiles and adjusts his settings. Somewhere in the code of the 2026 version, traces of that original test still exist—the same core loop, the same desperate hope of a Proxy fighting to save a broken world. He doesn’t need a trophy or a permanent save file to prove he was there. The memory of that electric April, when he first became part of something bigger than a game, is enough. After all, how many people can say they walked the streets of New Eridu before they were even finished?