Apparently the end of the world comes with buffering. The PDA warned me of the Aurora’s imminent detonation, but the ship took its sweet time about it. Still, that gave me the perfect window to craft my shiny new radiation suit from some creepvine samples. Nothing like the warm embrace of woven seaweed to make you feel safe from lethal fallout.

Once kitted out, I stocked up on the essentials: food, water, fire extinguisher, medkits — the usual “I might die but want to look prepared” loadout. Then, off to the Aurora I went, scanning everything I passed: beacons, Propulsion Cannon fragments, office chairs (because if I’m stranded on an alien ocean planet, I’m at least going to sit comfortably).

The Aurora Expedition

I reached the crash site and was immediately greeted by its new inhabitants — aggressive little crab things who were less than impressed with my knife-waving diplomacy. My PDA informed me I’d need a laser cutter to get deeper inside. Excellent. Another tool I don’t have. Add that to the “future me” problem list right under “stop the Aurora from exploding in 24 hours.”

Current me, however, had a far more pressing issue: I’d lost my flashlight. Somewhere inside the Aurora. One second I’m lighting the way through twisted corridors, the next my light vanishes into the void. After several minutes of frantic backtracking and muttering, I found it lying on the deck. Then, like the professional survivor I am, I immediately dropped it again while trying to equip it. Future me might solve radiation — present me still can’t handle basic inventory management.

The Leviathan Encounter

Deciding I couldn’t progress without a Propulsion Cannon, I returned to the Lifepod to craft one — only to discover I was missing a wiring kit. Which needs silver. Which I didn’t have.
Silver lives in sandstone outcrops, and the area near the Aurora wreck seemed like a logical place to search.

That was a mistake.

Because instead of silver, I found something much bigger. A Leviathan. Don’t ask me which type — I was too busy screaming to file a report. It was fast, loud, and apparently decided I looked like lunch. I bolted. It chased. My health bar became a decorative sliver, and then, for reasons only it knows, it broke off the attack.

I didn’t wait to question my luck. I burned through medkits and bolted home, heart pounding louder than the Aurora’s reactor. The silver can wait. I’m alive, and that’s enough for today — though after my close encounter with the Reaper Leviathan (I finally remembered what it was called), I’m not sure how many more “near misses” my nerves can take.

Log 3 Summary (Steam Deck Edition)

• Crafted the Radiation Suit before the Aurora explosion
• Scanned multiple new blueprints, including the Propulsion Cannon
• Lost my flashlight inside the Aurora (twice)
• Confirmed: Leviathans exist, and they are very fast
• Survived a close encounter with one — barely