Isolation Protocol: An Alien Isolation Survival Diary – Log 4: The Cost of Opening Doors

Isolation Protocol Log 4: The Cost of Opening Doors

Platform: Steam Deck
Difficulty: Medium
Rule Set: Apex Predator Rule Active

Video: Lockdown disabled, Xenomorph encounter, motion tracker acquired, Working Joes escalate (no commentary)

I need to lift the lockdown. I’m not convinced that is the right move.

The corridor I needed was sealed off completely. Doors red. Shutters down. No obvious way around it. I checked a nearby terminal first, hoping for something reassuring in the logs, but all I found was confusion. Staff unsure what was happening. Systems failing. No one really in control. It read like a station that already knew it was in trouble.

Eventually I disabled the security measures. There wasn’t another viable route forward. The moment I did, there was a metallic shift above me — subtle, but unmistakable once you recognise it. I barely had time to register the sound before it dropped from the ceiling.

The Xenomorph.

It landed with control. No rush. No panic. Just deliberate movement. I slid under the nearest desk and stayed perfectly still, forcing myself not to adjust position or overcorrect the camera. Its tail moved in and out of view at the edge of my vision, slow and patient. I couldn’t tell if it genuinely hadn’t seen me or if it simply hadn’t decided I was worth the effort yet.

After a stretch of silence that felt far longer than it probably was, it moved through the doorway I had just reopened. That was when it settled in. I hadn’t cleared an obstacle. I had expanded its territory.

The Rule Becomes Real

This was the moment the Apex Predator Rule stopped being theoretical. Five deaths to it and the run ends. If I complete the station and finish the game, I win. Everything else is background noise. The humans don’t decide the outcome. The androids don’t decide the outcome. The thing in the vents does.

Narrowing the threat makes it sharper. I don’t have to fear everything equally. I just have to respect it.

The Room Beyond

The next door required another hack. I matched the symbols more carefully than usual, fully aware that the ceiling mattered just as much as the floor. When the door opened, I heard screaming before I saw anything. It was already in the room.

I stayed back and watched it move. It was quick and disturbingly controlled. There was no frenzy in the way it hunted — just intent. Then it climbed into a vent. Right above where I needed to go to progress.

For a moment I stood there weighing whether to wait or gamble. I also noticed something I hadn’t seen before: it left someone alive. I’ve watched it clear this exact room without hesitation in previous playthroughs. This time it didn’t. That unpredictability unsettled me more than the violence did.

I moved carefully after that. Another terminal. Another quiet hack. When the door shut behind me, I saw it further down the corridor. Not charging. Not searching wildly. Just present.

That felt intentional.

The Working Joes

The Working Joes were calm at first. Polite. Neutral. One instructed me to sit down and wait for assistance. I declined. Waiting has not proven to be a reliable survival strategy here.

I explained that I needed to contact the Torrens. The response was measured but unhelpful. Whether they couldn’t assist or simply wouldn’t was impossible to tell. Their tone never changes, and that makes them difficult to read.

I kept moving and eventually found something more useful than conversation: the motion tracker.

The Motion Tracker

It’s a small device, but it changes everything. For the first time, I wasn’t relying purely on sound and instinct. When it pinged behind me and I was already prepared for movement, I realised how exposed I had been before.

It doesn’t remove the fear. It just gives it structure.

The Shift

The change didn’t build gradually. It flipped.

A man panicked. I didn’t fully understand what he was trying to do, but his actions triggered something within the station’s systems — within Apollo itself. Whatever line the Working Joes had been standing behind vanished.

Their tone flattened further. Their posture shifted. The polite distance disappeared. It wasn’t random aggression. It was a response.

His decision caused it.

From that moment on, they were no longer passive obstacles. The station had reclassified the situation, and I was now part of the problem.

The Elevator

An elevator blocked the path forward, monitored by a security camera. I watched its sweep pattern carefully before slipping into a nearby room to disable it. Even after turning it off, I waited a few seconds longer than necessary. This station punishes impatience.

Calling the lift felt louder than it should have. The wait stretched. With the tracker in hand, every quiet second felt temporary.

When the doors finally closed, I caught sight of the Torrens again through the glass. Verlaine was still broadcasting for help. I don’t know who is left on this station capable of answering her.

The Xenomorph moves through the ceilings. The Working Joes control the corridors. I’m trying to survive in the narrow spaces between them.

Continue the journey:
Isolation Protocol Log 3 |
Isolation Protocol Log 5

Eight Pages – A Slender: The Arrival Survival Diary Log 2: Strike One

Eight Pages – Log 2: Strike One

Platform: Steam Deck
Rule Set: Apex Predator Rule Active (1 / 3 Strikes)

Video: First strike recorded, a choke point mistake, and a second attempt under pressure (no commentary)

The forest drew first blood.

A little transparency before we begin properly. I had already stepped into this map once, collected the scrapbook items, and then realised I wasn’t recording. That’s why those pickups don’t show the usual notification. A strong start. Completely intentional. Obviously.

We continue where Log 1 left us. Survival instincts of a potato fully engaged, I head deeper into Oakside Park. As I pass what I assume is the canoe rental building — based entirely on a large sign suggesting that it is — my character slows. I hear something. It sounds like whispers carried on the air. Or maybe just wind doing a very good impression.

The pace returns to normal, but something has shifted. This is where the chapter really begins.

I reach the park layout sign and stop. The paths are mapped out clearly. Landmarks marked. I try to commit as much of it to memory as I can. I know this is going to matter later. Behind the sign is the first page. I take it.

And then I hear that sound.

It’s been over ten years since I last heard it, but it hasn’t lost its edge. That low, deliberate cue that signals one thing and one thing only: Slender has taken his first step.

Eight pages are scattered across the park. I need to collect them before he catches me. Simple objective. Complicated execution.

I didn’t make it to eight.

On page five, I entered a building. It had one entrance and one exit. I knew that. I went in anyway. I grabbed the page and turned around. He was already standing in the doorway.

No dramatic chase. No narrow escape. Just a blocked exit and rising static. I tried to push past him. He didn’t move. The screen filled with noise and the forest claimed its first strike.

Strike One.

Before going back in, I want to peel the curtain back for a moment.

This map never changes its shape. The paths stay where they are. The landmarks don’t move. There are nine key locations across the park, and eight of them will contain a page. Which eight changes each run, but the layout itself remains constant.

Slender’s behaviour escalates with every page collected. The more you gather, the more aggressive he becomes. By page seven, he is relentless. Sprinting feels like control, but stamina drains quickly, and once you commit to a bad position late-game, there’s little room for error.

Entering a single-exit building at five pages wasn’t unfair. It was poor timing. The forest didn’t cheat. It capitalised.

So I went back in.

Same park. Same layout. Different page placements. This time I found that same building early and cleared it immediately. I didn’t want to face that choke point near the end again. With the landmarks fixed in place, it becomes possible to track where you’ve been. Once you confirm a location has no page, you eliminate it from consideration. The park starts to shrink.

He appeared several times. Close enough to raise the static. Close enough to make me question my route. But not close enough to end it.

Seven pages collected. One missing.

I reached a fork in the path and hesitated. I took the right route first. It led back toward the car. Not what I needed. I doubled back, expecting him to be waiting. He wasn’t.

The other path led to a tent. And pinned against it, almost casually, was page eight.

I grabbed it. The footsteps stopped.

He appeared behind me. My character suddenly decided cardio was a priority and broke into a sprint before everything faded to black.

Map cleared.

But the forest has already taken one strike.

Two remain.

Log 2 Takeaways

A single-exit building at five pages is a calculated risk, not bad luck.
The map layout stays the same — page placement does not.
Slender escalates with every page collected.
Clearing choke points early changes the late-game pressure.
Strike One proves the Apex Predator Rule is active.

Continue the journey:

Log 1 |
Log 2 (You are here) |
Log 3

Eight Pages – A Slender: The Arrival Survival Diary Log 1: For Sale, No Exit

Eight Pages – Log 1: For Sale, No Exit

Platform: Steam Deck
POV: Handheld camera (battery + recording timer on-screen)

Video: First steps into Oakside: the house, the generator, and Oakside Park (no commentary)

I start filming outside a giant “Land for Sale” sign, and somehow end the night being told to “FIND ME LAUREN.”
Normal property viewings don’t usually escalate like this.

My POV is through a handheld camera, complete with battery life and a recording timer in the corner.
I’ve no idea if the timer will behave across multiple recordings (because I’m doing this over several),
but we’ll find out together.

The first thing I see is a huge sign advertising land for sale, telling me to contact Kate.
I’m supposedly driving somewhere important. I’m just not told where or why.

The road is blocked by a fallen tree.
We don’t know who did it, but I’m running the theory that Kate did.
Easier to drop a tree across the road than take down a massive sign with your name on it.
Either way, I don’t take it as a no.
Instead of getting back in the car and leaving, I go for a hike.

The light drops fast.
Oakside might be a mountain town, but surely physics still applies.
Either the sun is speedrunning the sky, or my character timed this trip perfectly for sunset.
By the time I reach a house—likely part of the land Kate was selling—it’s fully night.

Both the front door and garage door are open.
I let myself in.
Because that’s always a strong opening move.

The House: Half Powered, Fully Suspicious

The house is confusing.
I check one phone: no power.
I check another: there’s a message on the answering machine.
So either one half of the house has electricity and the other doesn’t,
or the wiring here follows horror rules instead of logic.

I find scattered notes and a flashlight.
The flashlight becomes essential immediately.
The camera throws out a brief burst of static during my tour,
which is the kind of detail you pretend you didn’t notice.

The location is good, though.
Remote. Quiet. Surrounded by forest.
If you ignore the notes, the power issues, and the open doors,
it’s practically ideal.

There’s a locked door.
The key is in the bathroom.
Exactly where I’d hide something important.

The Locked Room: Paper Walls and Beacon Talk

The unlocked room is covered in paper.
Every wall layered with writing.
Panic used as wallpaper.

One note mentions someone being scared of a beacon.
That’s not a phrase you want to read at night with limited battery.
Add it to the list of things to ask Kate.

I notice the back gate is open.
Instead of leaving in my car like a sensible person,
I decide to go through it.
Survival instincts of a potato.

Before that, a quick go on the slide.
No reason.
Just committing to the bit.

Generator Detour and a Burned House

A short walk down the path leads to a generator.
It turns on easily.
Too easily.

Nearby is a burned down house and another note.
I read it.
A small child appears in front of me, back turned.

I move around to see their face.
Quick jump scare.
I leave.
For once, a decent decision.

I circle the house briefly.
Not lost.
Just getting steps in.

Eventually I reach a sign: Oakside Park.

Oakside Park: “FIND ME LAUREN”

I’ve already entered two buildings uninvited.
One more won’t hurt.

Inside, graffiti covers more paper in the same style as the locked room.
Large, direct, personal:
FIND ME LAUREN.

I’m guessing I’m Lauren.
Because Oakside doesn’t seem interested in subtlety.

Log 1 Takeaways

The camera HUD keeps me informed and mildly stressed.
Kate’s land sale feels more like a trap than an advert.
Sunset in Oakside runs on horror time.
If a key is easy to find, it was meant to be.
“FIND ME LAUREN” suggests this is personal.

Continue the journey:

Log 1 (You are here) |
Log 2

Survivor’s Log – A Structural Overhaul

Sometimes survival means rebuilding the camp before the next storm hits.

The past few weeks have been some of the busiest the blog has seen since it started. Not because of new runs or dramatic survival moments — but because the foundations of the entire site have been rebuilt.

Survivor Incognito has always been about documenting survival runs honestly. But over time something else started happening: patterns began to appear. Rules evolved. Systems formed. What began as a collection of playthroughs slowly started turning into something more structured.

So I decided to lean into that.

The site has undergone a full structural overhaul to reflect what Survivor Incognito has actually become — not just a survival diary, but a framework for playing survival games with clear stakes and defined systems.

The Rules of Survival Become the Framework

Originally the Rules of Survival were simply a set of personal guidelines: ways to add tension to runs without turning them into punishment.

Over time those rules grew into something more deliberate.

Instead of applying the same permadeath rule everywhere, each series now uses a rule set designed for that specific game. Some worlds demand strict permadeath. Others require limited strikes against a specific threat.

That evolution led to the creation of the Survivor Incognito Framework.

Rather than one rule governing everything, each run now declares its conditions upfront. The stakes are defined before the first step is taken — and the outcome is earned.

Some runs end in death. Others end in confrontation. Some allow multiple encounters with a single unstoppable threat.

What matters is that the rules exist before the story begins.

The Apex Predator Rule

One of the biggest changes is the introduction of the Apex Predator Rule.

This rule originally started as a way to handle the Xenomorph in Alien: Isolation. A traditional permadeath run would end the story far too quickly — but unlimited retries would remove the tension completely.

The solution was simple: limited lethal encounters.

Under the Apex Predator Rule, the hunter is allowed a fixed number of kills. Each encounter represents a near-death escape. When the final strike lands, the predator wins and the run ends.

What started as the “Xenomorph Rule” has now expanded into a broader system used across multiple horror runs.

Some monsters are simply too important to treat like ordinary enemies.

Expanding the Hubs

Alongside the framework changes, several major hubs across the site have been rebuilt or expanded.

The Survivor’s Camp continues to act as the central hub for all survival series.
Survivor’s Dread now focuses fully on structured survival horror runs.
The Subnautica Hub has expanded with a full survival roadmap and reference guides.
The Long Dark Map Hub is currently receiving a major update including Interloper and Misery survival context.

These hubs are designed to connect everything together — diaries, guides, maps, and survival systems — so each series builds on the others.

A Small Milestone

Amid all of this rebuilding, the site quietly passed 10,000 views.

For a project run entirely by one person — built slowly between work, family life, and the occasional wolf attack — that number means a lot.

It’s a reminder that consistency matters more than chasing trends.

The goal was never viral success. It was simply to build something honest, structured, and sustainable.

So the work continues.

More systems. More survival logs. More worlds that will almost certainly try to kill me.

What Comes Next

With the framework now in place, several series are preparing to continue or return:

Further updates to The Long Dark Map Hub
The return of Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary
The beginning of Isolation Protocol under the Apex Predator Rule
New horror runs under Survivor’s Dread

The systems are in place now.

All that remains is to see how long I survive inside them.

8th Mar 2026 0

Isolation Protocol: An Allen Isolation Survival Diary – Log 1: Five Chances on Sevastopol

Isolation Protocol Log 1: Five Chances on Sevastopol

Platform: Steam Deck
Mode: Survival
Rule Set:

The Apex Predator Rule
— The Xenomorph gets 5 chances. On the fifth one, it wins.

Video: Boarding Sevastopol, spacewalk disaster, and first exploration (no commentary)

When the title screen opens with Ellen Ripley’s final message, it doesn’t feel nostalgic. It feels like a warning.

Amanda Ripley is welding when Samuels approaches with the one thing she’s been waiting for:
possible information about her mother.
The ship is Sevastopol.
The invitation is optional in theory, mandatory in practice.

If she wants answers, she goes.
So we go.

Wake, Dress, Invade Privacy

First objective: get dressed.
Hypersleep apparently strips you of both consciousness and wardrobe.

A quick conversation with Samuels and Taylor follows.
Then I discover the Torrens’ cyber security policy is “hope no one clicks anything.”
Taylor’s personal folder is right there.
Yes, I look.

I grab the briefing document from the bridge before contacting Sevastopol.
The reply we receive sounds less like a welcome and more like a suggestion to stay away.

Naturally, we ignore it.

The Spacewalk That Went Wrong

The transition to Sevastopol is done via spacewalk.
It lasts exactly as long as it needs to before everything explodes.

I’m thrown clear.
Samuels and Taylor disappear.
I drift toward the station alone.

The adventure officially begins the moment isolation becomes literal.

Arrival and Immediate Regret

Sevastopol feels abandoned but not empty.
The lighting flickers.
The walls are layered in graffiti that reads less like vandalism and more like confession.

I let my inner loot goblin take control:

Scrap? Mine.
Flare? Mine.
If it flashes, it’s coming with me.

I find a terminal confirming the station is being decommissioned.
Apparently that process includes cutting power almost everywhere.
Dark corridors. Locked doors. Minimal lighting.
Excellent design choice.

Maps, Power, and Door Code 0340

I locate a map for the Arrival and Departure Lounge and manage to restore partial power.
Lights return.
Doors do not.

Access is tied to the computer systems, because of course it is.

I also find a door code: 0340.
I haven’t found the door yet, but I’m holding onto that number.
Horror games reward memory.
Or punish the lack of it.

Movement in the Dark

Once I unlock the next section, I see people running.
Actual survivors.

That confirms two things:

I’m not alone.
Whatever they’re running from is still here.

And under the Apex Predator Rule, I already know who the top of the food chain is.

The Apex Predator Rule Begins

This run follows the

Apex Predator Rule
.

The Xenomorph gets five chances.
On the fifth successful kill, it wins.

No resets.
No rewinds.
No “that didn’t count.”

Sevastopol now has a scoreboard.
And I’ve just stepped onto the field.

Continue the journey:
Next Log

Survivor’s Log: Structural Adjustments

Survivor Log: Structural Adjustments

Date: 18 February 2026

I’ve spent the last few days moving through the site the way I move through a new region — slowly, deliberately, checking the foundations before committing to the next step.
Nothing was broken, exactly. But some paths were cluttered. Some signs unclear.
It felt like time to reinforce the structure.

Hub pages were stripped back and rebuilt with clearer intent.
Headers were standardised.
Navigation was tightened.
A few older routes were stepped away from where they no longer fit the system.
No panic. No rushed changes. Just controlled adjustments.

Survivor Incognito has shifted over time.
It started as a collection of survival diaries.
It’s become something more deliberate — structured runs, defined rules, limited lives.
The site needed to reflect that evolution.

Even this page has changed.
The Survivor Logs will no longer be loose updates.
If something shifts — structurally or philosophically — it will be documented here.
Quietly. Clearly. Without theatrics.

No collapse.
No reset.
Just reinforcement.

18th Feb 2026 0

Survivor’s Log — Cold-Blooded: The Hub Page Is Now Live

Cold-Blooded: The Hub Page Is Now Live

Game: The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Mode: Survival Mode

This run needed a foundation before it needed a first entry.

The hub page for Cold-Blooded: A Skyrim Survival Diary is now live.

This series follows an Argonian mage in Skyrim’s Survival Mode, using the Apex Predator Rule: three deaths total, and the third ends the run.

The hub outlines the rules, the format, and why this run exists, without jumping straight into the diary itself.

What You’ll Find on the Hub

The full ruleset, including the three-strike system
Build focus and combat restrictions
Context from the previous Skyrim Survival run
Space for future logs as the run progresses

You can find the hub page

24th Jan 2026 0

🩸 Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Charles Survival Diary Log 5: Bob, Cultists & Chaos

“Apparently Charles had other plans today. Which is fine — I had a date with destiny… and Gertrude.”

⚙️ Survival Status: 3 Strikes Total
Only Charles can take them away.
Each egg restores a lost strike — but I can’t exceed three.
When the last one’s gone, the run ends.

Watch: Fighting Charles twice and storming the northern mine (Steam Deck Gameplay).

The Setup — Gertrude’s Gift & Gale’s Key

I half-expected to hear that ominous whistle the second I loaded in, but the island was unusually quiet. No ambush, no chase — just eerie calm. I took it as an omen (probably a bad one) and rolled out to find my next local resident: Gertrude. She asked me to retrieve her late husband’s weapon and name it BOB in his honour. Honestly, she could’ve asked me to name it after her cat and I’d still have agreed — I need firepower more than morals at this point.

Not far down the line, I met Gale, who kindly handed over the final key I needed to access the last egg mine. Suddenly, everything clicked into place: I had all three egg locations and the coordinates for my potential final weapon. The problem? Reaching them alive. Step one: get BOB.

Round One — Collecting BOB (and Unwanted Attention)

I arrived at the scrapyard where cultists had taken BOB and barely had time to blink before that familiar whistle echoed across the valley. I slammed the train into forward and grabbed the Bug Spray. No visual — so I backed up, regrouped, and tried again.

That’s when I discovered two things. One: my train is a surprisingly effective cultist-flattening machine. Two: overshooting the area guarantees a personal visit from Charles himself.

The ensuing fight was messy. The Bug Spray pushed him back; the machine gun chipped away; the Boomer — well, let’s say my aim was more “creative fireworks” than “effective combat.” Eventually Charles retreated, but I somehow triggered a second encounter almost instantly. Double chaos for the price of one. After the rematch, he finally slunk away to lick his metallic wounds.

With the area silent again, I cleaned up the last surviving cultist (the train helped) and looted every scrap in sight. And there it was — BOB, shiny and furious. Welcome to the team, you beautiful piece of overkill.

Island Decisions — Next Stop: The Egg Mines

I debated my next step. Theodore’s mission was still on the board, Sasha’s definitely wasn’t, and the thought of climbing cliffs for a single scrap felt… inefficient. The choice was clear: time to start collecting eggs.

Egg #1 — Northern Mine Mayhem

The northernmost mine seemed like the least terrible option. A lone cultist patrolled outside — I introduced them to BOB. Inside, I discovered something new: I could actually lean left and right. Whether it’s a mine-only feature or some unintentional stealth buff, I’ll test it later.

I crept through the tunnels, listening to a cultist whistle a cheerful little tune that made the situation feel way too casual. I tried sneaking past — failed spectacularly — and took a bullet for my efforts. Panic mode engaged. I sprinted, found the glowing egg, yanked a few random levers, and bolted for daylight.

One egg secured. One strike restored. Back to three lives remaining.

Log Observations & Survival Notes

BOB is a beast: Best used for short, devastating bursts. Don’t overheat it.
Bug Spray still reigns supreme: It’s the best tool for making Charles think twice.
Scrap remains sacred: You will always need more than you have.
Cultists aren’t bulletproof: Especially not when they meet the front of a train.
Leaning in mines helps: It might not save you, but it makes dying funnier.

Pro Tips (Steam Deck Edition)

Use gyro aiming if you can — it helps land those tricky shots with the Boomer.
Don’t linger near cultist camps — they hear the train before you see them.
BOB + Bug Spray combo = panic fire supremacy.
Take fights on straight track when possible — easier weapon tracking, safer retreats.
After Charles retreats, loot nearby paths fast — his cooldown window is short.

Need a guide? Explore every stop, scrap pile, and spider sighting with the Aranearum Island Map Guide — your unofficial atlas to surviving the rails.

27th Oct 2025 1

🩸 Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Charles Survival Diary Log 4: Pickles, Papers, and Payback

Platform: Steam Deck |

Apex Predator Rule: Three strikes to start. Only Charles can take them.
Each egg restores one — never more than three total.

“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted the lady obsessed with pickles. Or the one hunting Slender Man. But hey—scrap is scrap.”

🎥 Survivor’s Reel: Log 4 – Pickles, Papers, and Payback (No Commentary)

The Pickle Lady Cometh

My first stop was a house belonging to someone I can only describe as the Pickle Lady. According to her, there’s “one last jar of pickles” hidden deep in her pickle cave. She wanted me to retrieve it, and honestly, the promise of scrap was enough for me to overlook how absolutely unhinged she seemed.

Charles, mercifully, must have agreed—because he didn’t interrupt this one. Maybe even he thought, “Yeah, she’s crazy,” and decided to give me a pass. Pickles retrieved, reward collected, and my sanity mostly intact.

The Slender Situation

Next up was Sasha, who casually informed me that the Slender Man was also apparently hanging around the island. She’d already collected eight pages and wanted me to grab the next set. Logical, right? Because clearly, one supernatural monster just isn’t enough.

Unfortunately, the universe had other plans. No sooner had I finished talking to her than that familiar whistle pierced the air. Charles. I bolted for my train, but he was faster. The beast blindsided me and shredded my health bar like paper. Charles earns his first win. Two chances left.

Still annoyed—and slightly traumatized—I decided to humor Sasha anyway. I managed to grab three pages before some unseen Slender-like presence told me to “go away.” Quest abandoned. Sanity preserved.

Bridge Over Terrifying Waters

After a quick recovery, I shifted gears and tracked down Santiago’s journal. Delivered it safely—though apparently, I could’ve snooped inside first. Missed opportunities, I guess. My next stop was Eugene’s son, who still believes his father is alive and well on the mainland. I didn’t have the heart to correct him.

He handed me a set of explosives and outlined the island’s master plan: lure Charles onto a wooden bridge, blow it sky-high, and end this nightmare once and for all. It’s a bold plan. Questionable, sure—but bold. I now have the temple key for when it’s time to place the eggs and start the final battle.

Preparing for Round Two

As the day closed, I parked the train near a resident’s home rumored to hold another weapon. After my last run-in with Charles, I’m more than ready to upgrade my firepower. Whether or not I get a moment’s peace to actually do it—that’s another story.

For now, I’ve survived long enough to plan my next move. But I can’t shake the feeling that Charles is circling again, waiting for round two.

Continue the journey:
Log 3: Explosions and Evasion |
Log 5 (Coming Soon)

More from Derailed & Doomed

25th Oct 2025 1

🩸 Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Charles Survival Diary Log 3: TNT, Torpedoes & Terrible Timing

Platform: Steam Deck
Rule: Apex Predator (Charles must kill me three times for the run to end)

⚙️ Survival Status: 3 Strikes Total
Only Charles can take them away.
Each egg restores a lost strike — but I can’t exceed three.
When the last one’s gone, the run ends.

“If there’s a bad time to use explosives, I’ll find it.”

I start by doing a quick sweep for guards near the mine that’s supposedly holding ammo for the rocket launcher. Thankfully, no one’s around — which is rare, and suspicious. The entrance itself, however, is locked. Naturally.

My map says, “Find a way in.” Okay, fair enough. I look around and find some TNT. Perfect. If that doesn’t open a door, nothing will.

Important survival lesson: stand further back when lighting TNT. I take a chunk of damage from the blast, and I’m pretty sure Charles just got a notification that I’m being an idiot. If he missed that one, don’t worry — I detonate a second explosive down the tracks. More fire, more noise, more damage to me. Subtlety is dead, but the door isn’t. Yet somehow, the mine opens, and I grab the rockets.

Back to John Smith, who hands over The Boomer. I’m officially armed and ready to make even more bad decisions.

Lighthouse Lunacy

My next bright idea: go exploring. I notice a marker close to the island’s edge. Against every instinct I have, I run for it. Turns out it’s a lighthouse, home to a woman named Claire — who needs the breakers fixed.

There’s a shed nearby with four breakers. Easy enough. I sprint over, slot them in, and head back. Apparently, I “missed a step.” Turns out I need to turn them on, and it’s a little puzzle. Thirty seconds later, lights on, job done. Claire thanks me by saying fixing the lighthouse will help others spot us more easily. Yes, Claire. Including Charles.

I make a break for the train. The moment I mark my next stop, I hear it — that whistle. Round two is on.

Round 2: Return of the Rail Demon

Charles is far more persistent this time. I test out The Boomer and land a few solid hits. He claws, rams, and screeches like he’s auditioning for the next Doom soundtrack. Twice, I think he’s gone, and twice, he charges back in. After burning through some scrap for repairs, I finally drive him off. Victory number two to me.

Feeling cocky, I decide to visit another local — Ronny, who seems like he’s gearing up to tell me his life story. Nope. He just wants me to climb some dangerously tall buildings for a box of papers, promising maybe one scrap as a reward. I climb anyway, find a tin of paint for the train (score), but fail a jump and lose a scrap.

Technically, that did count as a “death” — but since it wasn’t at the claws or wheels of Charles himself, it doesn’t break the Apex Predator Rule. Accidental gravity-assisted injuries are free passes in this run.

After a few more attempts, I decide Ronny’s box isn’t worth the spinal injuries. My train, on the other hand, gets a stylish new coat of paint — a well-earned upgrade after surviving two Charles encounters.

Danger on the Hill

Feeling brave — or stupid, jury’s out — I go for Theodore’s supply box next. Unfortunately, the area’s crawling with Cultists. I spot one and think I’ve figured out his patrol pattern. I haven’t. The second guard ambushes me from uphill. I sprint for the train, but pause to open my map — rookie mistake. The cultist scores a hit.

As I’m running, I hear that familiar whistle again. Charles is awake, and maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that I didn’t grab that box. I dive into my train, patch up, and decide both Theodore’s mission and Ronny’s tower of death can wait.

For now, the plan is simple: find the next closest survivor, avoid blowing myself up again, and maybe, just maybe, make it to Log 4 without turning into train food.