How a Fake DMCA Scheme Against Destiny 2 Creators Led to a $7.7 Million Lawsuit
Destiny 2 copyright strikes and DMCA impersonation exposed YouTube's flawed enforcement, leading Bungie to seek $7.7M in damages.
In the tangled orbit of online video platforms, copyright strikes sometimes behave less like legal safeguards and more like tripwires hidden inside a shared hallway. For Destiny 2 content creators, that hallway became a minefield when an impersonator used fraudulent DMCA takedown notices to silence dozens of YouTube videos. The developer Bungie eventually traced what initially looked like ten unknown attackers to a single individual, Nicholas "Lord Nazos" Minor, and demanded $7.7 million in damages. From the vantage point of 2026, the case remains a vivid example of how a platform's automated enforcement can be bent like a cheap spoon against the very community it was meant to protect.
An Impersonation That Slipped Through the Cracks
In 2023, a person or group posed as Bungie, the studio behind Destiny 2, and sent a wave of DMCA takedown requests to YouTube creators. Dozens of videos were demonetized or removed entirely before the scheme became widely known. The alleged fraudster then emailed the victims, claiming the campaign succeeded because of YouTube's "sloppy copyright takedown system" and because Bungie had ignored the issue for too long. That detail turned the incident into something colder than a routine spam attack; it felt like a lockpick demonstration performed on a door that everyone believed was reinforced.
The impersonation exposed a security loophole that allowed anyone with a freshly created Gmail account to pose as an organization and issue fraudulent DMCA notices on its behalf. Even more troubling, YouTube reportedly responded to Bungie's concerns only after the company was legally compelled to act. The entire episode revealed how the platform's enforcement machinery could be used as a public megaphone with the off switch taped over.
From Ten Unknown Individuals to One Named Defendant
Bungie did not let the matter fade. The studio filed suit against ten unknown individuals, then narrowed the defendants to a single person after what court documents described as an extensive and costly investigation. That person, Nicholas "Lord Nazos" Minor, is identified as a Destiny 2 player and the alleged mastermind behind the fake copyright strikes. Bungie demanded $7.7 million in damages, calculating $150,000 for each fraudulent copyright request.
Minor denied all six charges. His court response disputed that he submitted knowingly false DMCA notices or counternotices, that he infringed Bungie's copyrighted works, or that any legal basis existed for an infringement suit. He also argued that Bungie's claims for false designation of origin, business defamation, and violation of the Washington Consumer Protection Acts were legally and factually inapplicable. The language was formal, but the position was clear: he rejected the entire foundation of the lawsuit.
A Legal Calendar Moving Toward Trial
According to the documents, the case had a procedural deadline for amended pleadings, with expert witness reports and discovery due by November 17. If no settlement was reached, a trial date was set for April 15, 2024. From the current year of 2026, those dates have long since passed, but the lawsuit remains a reference point in the Destiny 2 community for how far a copyright dispute can travel once automated tools are turned against ordinary players and creators.
| Stage | Detail |
|---|---|
| Fake DMCA notices | Impersonator strikes Destiny 2 YouTube creators |
| Bungie lawsuit | Filed against 10 unknown individuals |
| Investigation | Narrowed to Nicholas "Lord Nazos" Minor |
| Damages demanded | $7.7 million, $150,000 per fraudulent request |
| Initial trial date | April 15, 2024 |
The lawsuit did not exist in isolation. Bungie also pursued millions of dollars from a Destiny 2 cheat seller with assistance from Ubisoft, a separate case that was scheduled to resume on January 19. Together, the legal actions painted a picture of a developer willing to spend heavily to protect its intellectual property and its community.
Why the Case Still Echoes
For a regular player watching from the sidelines, the episode illustrated how fragile the boundary between platform automation and real-world harm can be. A false copyright strike was not merely an inconvenience; it could erase income, disrupt channels, and leave creators scrambling to prove their innocence in a system that assumed guilt first. The $7.7 million demand was not just a number, but a signal that Bungie intended to treat coordinated impersonation as a serious offense rather than an online prank.
The case also highlighted the mismatch between how quickly a fraudulent notice could be sent and how slowly accountability arrived. Where one forged request could spark immediate consequences, untangling the source required legal pressure, court filings, and months of investigation. From 2026, that asymmetry remains one of the most lasting lessons of the affair.