I've been thinking a lot about portals lately. Not the scientific kind, but the ones that lead to a universe of witty AI and physics-bending puzzles. It's 2026, and the gaming landscape has evolved in incredible ways, yet one iconic series remains frozen in time after its second, masterful installment. The echoes of GLaDOS's sarcasm and the silent determination of Chell still resonate, but they feel like memories from another era. Recently, I stumbled upon some words from Erik Wolpaw, the brilliant mind behind the narrative of Portal and Portal 2, and it struck a chord. He's not just a fan hoping for a sequel; he's the architect who built that world, and he's issuing a heartfelt, urgent call to action before time runs out.

Wolpaw's message, shared on a podcast, was blunt and filled with a palpable sense of urgency. "We’ve gotta start Portal 3," he declared, directing his plea into the void of Valve's famously flat hierarchy. His reasoning is deeply personal and utterly relatable. "I am not getting any younger," he admitted. We are reaching the point where it’s crazy to think [that we’re] literally going to be too old to work on Portal 3, so we should just do it." This isn't about corporate strategy or market analysis; it's about creative legacy. He, along with many of the original team, fears that the window to properly continue this story with the same visionary spark is closing. The passion is there, the ideas are (presumably) simmering, but the clock is ticking on the opportunity to reunite the band for one final, glorious encore.

However, Wolpaw is a realist, and his insights peel back the curtain on why Valve, the studio notoriously averse to the number three, operates the way it does. He painted a vivid picture that contradicts the common perception of Valve as a playground of unbridled creativity. "As much as it seems like Valve often [is] just a bunch of people sitting around sipping gin and tonics by a pool, everybody’s working," he clarified. The reality is a hive of constant, often invisible, activity. Projects bubble up, morph, get shelved, or emerge years later as something entirely different. This fluid, self-directed structure is Valve's strength, but it also creates a significant hurdle for a targeted project like Portal 3.

"So you’d almost have to take them – it’s like a revolution – [and] stir up a bunch of people to leave what they’re currently working on and come work on something else."

This is the core of the challenge. Initiating Portal 3 wouldn't be a simple managerial decree. It would require a grassroots movement within the company—a voluntary exodus of dozens of talented engineers, artists, and designers from their current passions (be it the next Half-Life iteration, Steam Deck successors, or VR innovations) to rally around a single, beloved cause. Wolpaw estimates needing around 75 people. In Valve's ecosystem, that's not about allocating resources; it's about inspiring a critical mass of individuals to believe that crafting this sequel is the most compelling thing they could be doing. The opportunity cost is enormous, as pausing one breakthrough might mean delaying another.

Financially, Wolpaw acknowledges the elephant in the room: Counter-Strike 2 (and its ongoing ecosystem). He knows a narrative-driven puzzle game, even one as revered as Portal, won't generate the relentless, live-service revenue stream of a competitive tactical shooter. "It wouldn't make the kind of money Counter-Strike has made, and continues to make," he stated plainly. Yet, in a moment of humorous direct address to Valve's founder, he offered a crucial counterpoint: "But having said that, maybe every game doesn’t need to make Counter-Strike money, you know, Gabe, if you’re listening."

This touches on a fundamental tension in modern gaming:

Portal 3 wouldn't just be a product; it would be an event, a gift to a community that has kept the faith for over 15 years. It would reaffirm that in an age of battle passes and seasonal content, there is still immense value in crafting a singular, polished, and mind-bending experience that people will discuss for decades. The financial success, while not Counter-Strike-level, would be far from trivial. The brand loyalty and goodwill generated could be incalculable.

So, where does that leave us, the players, in 2026? Wolpaw's candid discussion is both a beacon of hope and a sobering map of the obstacles. The desire from the creative source is undeniable and urgent. The path to realization, however, winds through Valve's unique and enigmatic corporate culture. It requires a perfect storm of personal passion, available talent, and perhaps a nudge from the community's unwavering desire.

I find myself imagining what Portal 3 could be. With advancements in physics engines, AI behavior, and narrative depth, the potential is staggering. 🤯 Could we see a fully realized outside world? New aperture science mysteries? A deeper dive into the origins of the panels and the gel? The concepts alone are thrilling. Wolpaw's race against time is our race too—a race to see one of gaming's most intelligent and beloved stories receive the conclusion it deserves, crafted by the minds who first made it magical. The call has been made. Now, we wait to see if enough people at Valve are listening, and more importantly, if they're willing to start their own revolution for a cake that is, definitively, not a lie. 🎂