The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the preview, robed cultists rode on pigs, wielded machine guns, and the sequence culminated with an ominous image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles.

One detail that didn’t make the final cut was the infamous "snake gun," a weapon that was born from a simple suggestion by a team member’s child. Joe Dietsch, the CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games, recounted the moment: the youngster asked, “Can there be a snake gun?” Leveraging an in‑house tool that could rapidly prototype firearms, Dietsch spent roughly half an hour building a gun that launched serpents. The child’s delight was immediate, and the weapon has remained a quirky staple of the game.

That anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us. The title is an open‑world sandbox survival experience set in a 1970s‑style cult, where players can recruit followers—or invite friends in co‑op mode—to build their own fringe movement. Yet beyond the absurdity of snake‑shooting weaponry, the project showcases a technology‑first mindset that has allowed a tiny crew to produce a high‑fidelity, large‑scale title. Michael Abbott, the studio’s chief operating officer, summed up the team’s philosophy: “We wanted to be disruptors.

We told everyone we could build this game with twelve people, and they laughed.” Their confidence wasn’t unfounded. The founders came from indie‑film backgrounds where small budgets often forced crews to punch far above their weight. After 80 pitches, Wolf Haus finally secured equity funding from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, giving the studio the financial runway to continue development without compromising its lean structure.

The origins of Wolf Haus are steeped in Hollywood. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson, son of Mel Gibson, who later co‑founded the studio.

Together they co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West. Abbott is the son of veteran makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before he turned his attention to Star Citizen. Abbott later produced films such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx.

This cinematic pedigree informs the game’s narrative tone, which blends grindhouse aesthetics with survival‑game mechanics. Join Us began as a personal experiment for Dietsch.

He discovered that Unreal Engine could be downloaded for free and, despite having no formal training, taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials. After creating a few modest prototypes, he returned to a long‑standing fascination: a doomsday cult simulator that merged survival gameplay with the gritty, over‑the‑top vibe of grindhouse cinema. He built a proof‑of‑concept demo, showed it to Abbott, and the duo began pitching the concept to investors. The studio’s financial chief, Dooma Wendschuh, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game narrative work.

In the early 2000s he founded Sekretagent Productions, providing writing services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later he launched several tech ventures, including Ebbu, a cannabis‑formulation company sold for roughly C$430 million.

After a brief retirement on a remote Canadian island, a call from his old Hollywood‑hill roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into the industry. Impressed by Dietsch’s demo, Wendschuh helped bring in strategic advisor Reid Schneider—formerly a vice‑president at Warner Bros. Games—and CTO Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, an ex‑Ubisoft Montreal programmer. Funding proved challenging amid a broader industry downturn.

The team began pitching in summer 2023, receiving positive reactions but little capital. After enlisting the Creative Artists Agency (CAA) as representation and persisting through 2024, Wolf Haus secured a seed round from Lifelike Capital and Krafton. Wendschuh credits the CAA connection—whose roster includes titles like 007: First Light—and the presence of seasoned veterans Schneider and Chartrand for opening doors that might otherwise have remained shut. Despite the high‑profile backing, the studio remains intentionally small, now employing just 13 full‑time staff.

Dietsch emphasizes that the limited headcount is a design choice: “We wanted everyone to have a voice, to touch the creative, to feel ownership of the game.” To make such an ambitious open‑world possible, the team invested heavily in custom tooling from day one. "If a system exists in the game, it must be scalable and debuggable by a single person," Dietsch explains.

The first year of development was therefore split between ideating gameplay features and building the underlying toolchain that would keep the project from collapsing under its own weight. The equity‑funded model gave Wolf Haus the breathing room to perfect those tools. Krafton and Lifelike’s capital financed the entire development, with only a modest amount of project finance earmarked for marketing.

This arrangement aligns investor incentives with the studio’s long‑term value creation, encouraging the team to continue building reusable tools rather than relying on shortcuts. When asked about the role of generative AI, both Dietsch and Wendschuh are unequivocal: the studio does not employ AI for any creative tasks. "We believe a human touch is essential to game making," Dietsch says. The only AI they use are mundane productivity tools for calendar management and email drafting.

Interestingly, Krafton—publicly positioning itself as an “AI‑first” company—insisted that Wolf Haus avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring a similar stance taken by Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s world and audio. The six‑kilometre‑square map was built entirely by hand, and the 15,000 voice lines were recorded by human actors, not synthetic voices. This dedication to artisanal production reflects the studio’s broader ethos of preserving creative jobs in an era where AI threatens to replace voice talent and artists.

Dietsch finds the immediacy of game development especially rewarding compared with film. In cinema, an idea can take years to materialise, requiring countless approvals and the involvement of high‑profile talent. In contrast, a game concept can be prototyped within hours, allowing developers to see their vision in real time.

Wendschuh notes that while film production is heavily front‑loaded—requiring star power to secure greenlight—games have far fewer gatekeepers. "You don’t need an A‑list actor or director to make a successful game," he says, highlighting the democratizing potential of interactive media. Both founders trace their creative spark back to childhood.

Dietsch recalls wanting to make either movies or games at six years old, a decision that ultimately hinged on receiving a camera for Christmas. He taught himself programming on a TI‑83 calculator, laying the groundwork for a career that now straddles both mediums.

He concludes that whether through film or interactive entertainment, the core goal remains the same: to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience. Join Us stands as a testament to what a small, motivated team can achieve when they blend Hollywood storytelling sensibilities, savvy tech development, and a willingness to defy industry conventions—without leaning on generative AI.

The game promises players a wildly original cult‑building adventure, complete with snake‑shooting firearms, hand‑crafted environments, and a level of creative control that only a tightly knit indie studio can provide.