23 October 2025
The recent popular release of Battlefield 6 has coincided with the release of the beta for Forefront VR, which itself is set to release in November 2025. Despite the two games being unrelated, people are effectively calling Forefront “VR Battlefield”, due to the striking similarity between the two games.
In light of this, this article will briefly look at the rise of “VR clones” of popular video games and try to answer questions like “Can a developer lawfully create a VR version of a well-known game without authorisation?” or “Do such projects inevitably trespass on the rights of the original creators?”
The answer lies in one of the most fundamental distinctions in copyright law: the idea-expression dichotomy. This principle governs how far protection extends, and where inspiration becomes infringement. When properly understood, it explains why many “clones” or “spiritual successors” can legally exist despite striking gameplay similarities to their inspirations.
The Idea–Expression Dichotomy
The idea-expression dichotomy is one of the cornerstones of copyright law. It draws a line between what can and cannot be owned. Copyright does not protect ideas, concepts, systems, or methods of operation; it only protects the particular form in which those ideas are expressed. This doctrine ensures that creativity can build upon existing cultural materials. Without it, the first developer to invent a new game genre could monopolise every future iteration of it, choking innovation.
In the gaming context, the “idea” refers to the broad concept or underlying mechanics of play, for instance, the idea behind a MOBA, FPS, racing, platformer, or puzzle solving game.
The “expression” refers to the specific audiovisual realisation of those ideas: the artwork, level design, dialogue, sounds, and code. While a studio owns its own creative assets, it cannot prevent others from producing games that employ the same general concept or rule structure, provided those others create their own original expression of it.
This distinction is often difficult to apply in practice. A video game is an interactive audiovisual work that blends idea and expression seamlessly: the rules of play, the look of the world, and the player’s experience are all intertwined. This is specifically the reason why so many MOBAs look the same – as the broad concept or underlying mechanics of play can also dictate what the map looks like. Courts therefore apply nuanced tests to separate protectable expression from unprotectable idea. In doing so, they aim to protect creativity without granting monopolies over fundamental gameplay mechanics or genre conventions.
Judicial Treatment of Game Cloning
The courts have repeatedly confronted disputes over allegedly cloned games. The decisions collectively reveal how the idea-expression dichotomy operates in interactive works. One of the earliest cases was Atari, Inc. v. Amusement World, Inc. (1981), in which Atari accused another developer of copying its iconic arcade game Asteroids. The court found that while Meteors closely resembled Asteroids in concept, its differences in graphics, scoring, and pacing rendered it a distinct expression. The court emphasized that the basic idea of shooting asteroids in space could not be monopolized.
However, courts have found infringement where copying extended beyond ideas to expressive elements. In Tetris Holding, LLC v. Xio Interactive, Inc. (2012), the court held that Mino, a mobile game, unlawfully reproduced the distinctive visual arrangement of Tetris, including the exact shapes, colours, and screen layout of the falling blocks. Although the underlying idea of arranging geometric shapes was unprotectable, the defendant’s near-identical visual presentation crossed the line into copying of expression. The decision illustrated that while gameplay mechanics may remain free for all, aesthetic imitation can still trigger liability.
These cases demonstrate that “cloning” is not inherently unlawful. The legality depends on what is being copied. If a developer borrows only a game’s basic premise or genre-defining mechanics, the law generally permits it. If the developer appropriates its unique audiovisual identity or creative elements, infringement is far more likely.
Applying the Dichotomy to VR Clones
When examining modern VR clones, the same principles apply, though the medium introduces additional complexity. Virtual reality transforms the way a player experiences a game, emphasising embodiment, spatial awareness, and physical motion. This often forces developers to redesign mechanics and interfaces from the ground up. As a result, even if a VR title aims to recreate the “feel” of an existing game, its actual expression – the way it looks, moves, and responds – may be quite different.
Looking comparatively at Battlefield 6 and Forefront, the similarities are striking. Both games are large-scale military shooters involving squads, vehicles, and strategic objectives. Yet these elements represent ideas rather than expressions. No single developer can own the concept of modern warfare, the presence of tanks and helicopters, or the goal of capturing territory. These are standard features of the genre, known in copyright law as scènes à faire – stock elements that naturally flow from the subject matter.
This underscores the centrality of the idea–expression dichotomy. As long as Forefront uses its own character models, maps, sound effects, and user interface, it does not infringe the expressive rights of Battlefield.
Credit: Triangle Factory - Forefront VR
Credit: Electronic Arts / Battlefield Studios / Spratt
Why the Law Allows Cloning
There is a sound policy rationale behind this limited scope of protection. Copyright law aims to encourage creativity, not to confer perpetual monopolies over cultural ideas. If game mechanics or genres were fully protected, the first successful title in any style would prevent others from producing comparable experiences and the entire medium would stagnate.
By protecting only the concrete expression of a game and leaving its abstract ideas open, the law strikes a balance between rewarding original effort and fostering ongoing innovation. Each new developer can draw upon familiar concepts while contributing its own artistic vision, improving gameplay, and extending genres into new technological spaces. VR is a perfect example of this evolutionary process. It often begins by reimagining existing genres in immersive form before developing entirely new kinds of interactive experiences.
Moreover, players themselves benefit from this dynamic. Competition among similar games leads to better design, lower prices, and greater creative experimentation. When developers are free to reinterpret popular ideas, they collectively enrich the medium. The law’s restraint in this area is therefore not a loophole, but a deliberate feature of a system designed to promote cultural and technological progress.
Conclusion: The Limits of Permissibility
Despite this permissiveness, there are clear limits. A game that replicates the distinctive aesthetic identity of another may still infringe even if its code and mechanics are independently developed. Courts assess “substantial similarity” not in terms of general gameplay but in the total concept and feel of the expressive elements. The Tetris decision demonstrates that even functional works can contain protectable expressive combinations.
Similarly, a developer who copies sound effects, textures, or dialogue lines from an existing game, even as placeholders, risks liability. The same is true for narrative copying: directly reproducing storylines, character names, or fictional universes is an infringement of expression. These are creative choices rather than functional necessities.
In this regard, the safest path for VR developers is to rebuild every asset, map, and interface from scratch, drawing inspiration from the mechanics of their predecessors but expressing them through entirely new artistic and technical implementations.
