A Star Wars fan has come up with a pretty interesting theory about Star Wars: Starfighter – and it says Ryan Gosling is actually playing Luke Skywalker's son.

Gosling is playing a character named Kade Auberon in the upcoming Starfighter, and fans of the old Legends continuity might notice a similarity with one Cade Skywalker.

"Wouldn't shock me if Starfighter turns out to be a soft launch for the new trilogy and Ryan Gosling is playing Cade Skywalker from Legends, now retrofitted to be Luke's son," predicts the fan.

Cade Skywalker is a descendant of Luke's in Legends – existing in continuity around 100 years later – and he's a bounty hunter and former Jedi Padawan. Gosling's Kade, meanwhile, is still a pretty mysterious character, though footage revealed at D23 shows him in possession of the fastest starfighter in the galaxy, which is a decommissioned Imperial model.

A new Star Wars trilogy is indeed in the works, with the first film to be helmed by Spider-Man director and Skeleton Crew co-creator Jon Watts. It's set to feature Rey "in some capacity," according to The Hollywood Reporter, and it also looks set to continue the Skywalker Saga.

While it does seem very unlikely that Gosling's character is actually Luke Skywalker's son – after all, nothing we've seen of Luke since Return of the Jedi suggests he has a secret family – it wouldn't be a stretch to think Starfighter might set up the new trilogy in some way. We'll just have to wait and see.

Starfighter arrives on May 28, 2027. In the meantime, keep up to date with everything else the galaxy far, far away has in store with our guide to all the upcoming Star Wars movies and TV shows.

Today marks the release of The Witcher 3 Remastered, a big update to CD Projekt Red's monumental RPG. On the heels of this, we're also getting an expansion, Songs of the Past, next year – only 12 years into the game's life. Why? Well, because the devs simply felt they had more ground to cover.

"It was a great opportunity to tell something new about already established characters and to show them from a different angle," Karolina Kuzia-Rokosz, creative vision director at CDPR support studio Fool's Theory, tells VGC.

"What I mean is, this is still a fully-fledged expansion and a richer story first and foremost, but then we have Geralt's best friend with us, who also faces some important stuff in his life, right?" she adds.

She's referring to our old musical companion, Dandelion, whose backstory forms the backdrop Songs of the Past. You're visiting his home region of Lettenhove, where our monster-hunting hero winds up uncovering and slaying some nasty pieces of work.

Creating an entire slab of DLC sprang from wanting to dig into Geralt's supporting cast just that much deeper, and seeing what emerges. "We always wanted to say more about the people who are important to Geralt," Kuzia-Rokosz adds. "So, it isn't like we wanted to strongly conclude something, more that we still believe that there is still more to say about Geralt."

This is as true mechanically as it is narratively. The new chain weapon is actually something CD Projekt Red tried to implement in the base game, but couldn't. Geralt of Rivia's misadventures around the Continent have already given us hundreds of hours of entertainment, and it seems we'll get to enjoy plenty more before his shift is over and we get The Witcher 4.

The Witcher 3 Remastered did not, in fact, change the RPG's hilarious low-poly pigeons, much to fans' delight: "Glory to low poly."

"It sounds like you need to find some sense of belonging, a group you can call your own and feel at home with."

Those words, or words to that effect, are ones my therapist recently spoke to me. I think she probably had in mind something a little more traditional—church, or one of those manly men groups, something like that—but last week I found a glimpse of a solution amidst an industrial estate in Warsaw, Poland.

There, Logitech G Play 2026 was being held, including a Counter-Strike 2 tournament with a $100,000 prize pool. As I sat on a bleacher seat surrounded by Poles, despite not understanding a lick of what was being said around me or by the Polish commentators over the speakers, I felt at home.

The stage housed both teams—the Canadian team Luminosity Gaming and the French team 3DMax—facing each other, and the audience lining all four sides, with big screens above the stage on all four sides.

I had the choice to sit in the area designated for VIP and press, cordoned off and conspicuously lacking bleachers, instead housing chairs firmly planted at floor height. I chose to sit in the bleachers, though, with the hundreds of regular CS2 fans that had come to see the show. No doubt I'd heard one or two of them in my own games before, shouting expletives at me in a foreign tongue. Just how I like it. These are my people.

I've been playing Counter-Strike for well over a decade now, albeit with some breaks away from the game during that period. But apart from when CS:GO first launched, I never really got into the pro scene—I mostly preferred to just play and improve without getting too into teams and tournaments.

Sometimes that would make me feel a little disconnected from the community, when my teammates would reference games and pros that I wasn't too familiar with. I was happy enough, but being at the tournament last week made me realise what I'd been missing out on.

I suppose the feeling I experienced was the same as what sports fans get—at least, those who actually travel to see games. I'd only ever been into football of the American variety, which made in-person attendance difficult as a Brit, setting aside the occasional game at Wembley stadium.

I didn't get into it immediately. As I sat and watched, it took me a while to acclimate and get invested. It helped that I'd spoken to a couple of pro players from Luminosity the day prior, as I found the two that I spoke to—Azuwu and yxngstxr—to be very genuine and friendly people, so I felt invested in them winning (alas, they did not).

I was grateful to be familiar with the game and the maps, because I could understand what was going on despite not understanding the commentary. But most of the first game I spent getting used to the pace and rhythm of spectator mode, having not watched a spectator CS2 game in quite a while.

Between the first and second game, plenty of people rushed away from the bleachers to go out and grab a drink or have a smoke, myself included. I didn't speak to anyone; I didn't need to. I just stood outside for a few minutes in the dwindling light, anticipating getting back on a seat and watching the next game.

The second game was when I got fully invested. Which was just as well, because that game went into two overtimes, which is very rare at least in my non-pro experience. It was a long, close match, and that made it all the better.

There were moments in that game that felt genuinely spiritual, which is a crazy thing to say and you will not hear me recount again, lest my colleagues never let me live it down. The memory of seeing the AWP-er Afro clutch as the commentators ramped up the tension of their narration, and then hearing the roars all around me as he hit a ridiculous shot, is now seared into my mind.

As are the silly things, like the audience—myself included—ramping up our building roar to a crescendo as two opposing players were approaching each other without knowing. Or the between-round camera cuts to an audience member sitting on the row next to me, with his laptop out, opening loot crates, again with a building roar as he crossed his fingers for a rare skin rather than wasted money.

The few hours in their company left me very appreciative for the community and the players I've spent so much time shooting in the head over the years.

The lights, the booming and bassy audio, the whole experience has made me feel a fool for missing out on it for so long. But more than those things, it's the shared experience that I feel I've missed out on the most, the feeling of connection with others over the love of the game.

It feels silly that, for a game I've sunk so many hours into over so many years, until now I'd not tried to really connect with its loveably toxic and foul-mouthed community in-person, sharing the tournament experience.

Here's hoping for many more FaceIt matches with these people, no matter how many multi-lingual insults about my mother they throw my way. Deep down we know we love each other and this incredible game. Sometimes it just takes a bit of in-person, language-barrier'd bonding to realise it. How's that for belonging?