Location: Seegson Communications
Back Upstairs, Back in Trouble
After possibly releasing the galaxy’s worst houseguest, I have no choice but to keep moving toward Seegson Communications. The other survivors? They can fend for themselves—if they’re still breathing.
I creep upstairs just in time to hear the Xenomorph deal with the group who wanted me dead. That’s… justice? Karma? Either way, I don’t plan on joining the casualty list. I get a quick glimpse of the creature before ducking behind a box. No thanks, not burning Strike One yet.
Moments later, I slip into the elevator, tuner in hand, praying it doesn’t decide to test its claws on the doors.
Welcome to Seegson Communications
The elevator opens, and who’s waiting? A Working Joe android. I can tell the designers blew the budget on “creepy plastic skin” and “unsettling stare mode.” Still, the first one politely offers me a seat. I decline. I’ve already got chairs at home.
Exploring further, I try to explain I need to contact the Torrens. The Joes, in their usual customer-service-death-mask tone, tell me that Communications is off-limits. Naturally, this means I’m going to have to sneak in.
Tracker, Toys, and Trust Issues
In the middle of poking around, I find something glorious: the motion tracker. Not only does it point toward objectives, but it immediately informs me that something is behind me. Cue panic—until I realise it’s just another Joe, calmly asking if everything is alright. (No, everything is not alright, pal.)
I also stumble on a blueprint for a noisemaker. Given how much stomping and hissing I’ve heard lately, this feels like crafting salvation.
But then I see it: Joes can’t be trusted. A human survivor argues with one, pulls a gun, fires—does nothing. The Joe responds by snapping him in half like a breadstick. Great. Now I know they’re not just weird, they’re actively homicidal. Thanks, random gun guy. You doomed us all.
Shut Down the Cameras
My objective: disable the surveillance cameras so I can sneak through. Problem: I have no idea where I’m going. Solution: follow the magic beeping rectangle.
The tracker points me toward the controls, while also telling me there are two Joes nearby. Excellent—nothing like disabling security while feeling like the least secure person alive.
I find the panel, turn off the cameras, and pocket a survivor’s ID tag because looting under pressure is apparently my thing. Then I wait. And wait. And wait for the world’s slowest elevator. I swear it was coming from the far side of the station.
Hope on the Airwaves
At last, I reach Communications. And then I hear it: the voice of the Torrens, cutting through the static. Actual hope, actual contact, actual chance of escape. For a moment, Sevastopol doesn’t feel like a tomb—it feels like a finish line I might actually reach.
Of course, the Joes are still wandering the halls, the Xenomorph is still on the loose, and the whole station feels one breath away from falling apart. But right now? I’ve got a signal. And that’s enough to keep going.
Log 4 Pro Tips
- Never assume the Joes are harmless. They’re not.
- Motion tracker = survival MVP. Treasure it.
- Don’t trust other survivors with guns—they’ll get you all killed.
- If an elevator takes too long, assume it’s mocking you.
Log 3 |
Log 4 (You Are Here) |
Log 5
More from Survivor’s Dread
- Survivor’s Dread Hub — all Alien: Isolation and horror survival diaries.
- Dark Waters: A Dredge Survival Diary — permadeath fishing horror.
Survivor Incognito 