Tag: Steam Deck Gaming

Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 2: The Depths of Progress

Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 2: The Depths of Progress

Difficulty: Survival (Steam Deck Survival)
Optional Features: Grav Trap Deployed for Science and Snacks

“Silver is rarer than common sense on this planet.”

After yesterday’s fire-fighting and frantic crafting, I started the day with a new radio message: Lifepod 17 had also crashed somewhere nearby — right next to the Seamoth Bay, apparently. But priorities are priorities, and since Lifepod 3 radioed me first, they got first rescue attempt.

Priorities, Podcasts, and PDAs

Lifepod 3 wasn’t exactly a rescue success.
I did, however, find a blueprint for a compass — the kind of thing that makes you wonder why your pod didn’t come with one pre-installed. I added it straight to the “to-craft-once-I-can-see-straight” list, along with a PDA I’ll read later when I’m not holding my breath underwater. No survivors… unless you count me, which I do, enthusiastically.

Back at my pod, I realised something important: I can’t see a damn thing once it gets dark. So I finally crafted a torch — apparently the galaxy’s most underrated invention — along with a survival knife because there’s nothing like a little sharp-edged comfort in an ocean full of unknown lifeforms.

Lifepod 17 and the Great Seamoth Discovery

Next stop: Lifepod 17.
Predictably, it was another empty seat arrangement, but I did strike technological gold — enough Seamoth fragments to unlock the blueprint. I just need a Mobile Vehicle Bay now, which sounds easy enough until you remember I’m surviving on cooked bladderfish and spite.

While exploring the wrecks, I also found the last few materials to upgrade my O₂ tank. More air equals more curiosity, and more curiosity usually equals more trouble, so that’s a win all around.

Incoming Messages and Explosive Warnings

Just as I was feeling productive, I got a new transmission — this time from the Sunbeam. They wanted a response, but my comms system is, and I quote, “irreparably damaged.” Translation: I’m talking to myself for the foreseeable future.

With no one to call and no Netflix subscription in sight, I built a Grav Trap and tossed it outside the Lifepod to watch it work. Instant sushi buffet. Fish helplessly drawn into an invisible vortex of doom. It’s oddly soothing.

Science in Motion

Full gameplay log below — forty minutes of exploration, crafting, and the occasional panic swim. Featuring Grav Trap testing, Lifepod 17 dives, and my ongoing battle with visibility and oxygen management.

Watch on YouTube

I even had enough parts for a Rebreather, further extending my underwater escapades. Everything was going fine… right up until the PDA told me the Aurora will explode in approximately two hours.
Sure. Two hours to stop a planet-sized reactor meltdown with nothing but a knife and optimism. Sounds totally achievable.

Silver, Sunbeam, and Sinking Realisations

I spent the rest of the day chasing one thing: silver. I’d convinced myself it didn’t exist anymore, that I’d mined the planet dry earlier. But after far too many dives and muttered curses, I finally found some glimmering salvation among the sandstone outcrops.

Back at the Lifepod, another message awaited — the Sunbeam again. They’ve spotted the wreckage of the Aurora and are coming to investigate. They’ll be here within the week.

So not all doom and gloom then. Just mild existential dread… and a new compass freshly crafted to help me get lost in the right direction next time.

Continue the Journey:
Log 1 |
Log 3
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Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Charles Survival Diary Log 1 – Welcome to the Rails

🩸 Derailed & Doomed – Log 1: Welcome to the Rails

Difficulty: Default (Steam Deck)
Rules: I start with three strikes under the Apex Predator Rule.
Only Charles can take them away. Each egg collected restores one lost chance, but I can never hold more than three at once.

“Eugene called with a ‘big find for the museum.’ I should’ve known when he refused to say what it was until the boat was already docking.”

Arrival – The Call That Should’ve Stayed Missed

Apparently Eugene has discovered something huge on Aranearum Island—something the museum “can’t ignore.” What he forgets to mention, until we’re thirty seconds from land, is that the discovery hisses, hunts, and has legs that would make a freight spider jealous. By then, of course, it’s too late to turn around.

No sooner do we dock than Eugene takes off at a sprint like he’s late for his own funeral. I grab the station key, unlock the building, and meet my transportation for this misadventure: a battered yellow locomotive that looks one patch of rust away from retirement.

First Blood – Eugene’s Farewell Tour

I test-fire the roof gun—short bursts, satisfying recoil—and then we’re moving. The honeymoon lasts roughly twenty seconds before Charles himself crashes the party. Eugene insists we “keep firing.” I oblige; Charles responds by turning Eugene into exhibit material. The monster vanishes into the trees, leaving me with a wrecked train, a dying mentor, and new marching orders: find the eggs that power this nightmare.

📺 Watch the Run – Log 1 Gameplay

Here’s the footage from this log — the moment Eugene and I make first contact with the eight-legged nightmare himself. Recorded on Steam Deck using the built-in capture tool.

Side Tracks – The Island’s Welcoming Committee

My first stop is Tony Tiddler, who generously offers the key to his barn and a stash of scrap. I call that charity; he calls it cleaning up. Next, I reverse the train, switch tracks, and meet Candece, who points me to her balcony—more scrap, fewer spiders.

Feeling brave (or stupid), I detour toward the middle of nowhere and meet the local witch, Lizbeth Murkwater. She wants swamp meat from an island guarded by something named Barry. I don’t see Barry, but I feel him—same energy as the invisible water creature from Amnesia: The Dark Descent. I retrieve the goods, vow never to swim again, and sprint back to dry land to upgrade my train’s speed. Priorities.

Locks, Luck, and Helen’s Revelation

Next up is Daryl, a man armed with lockpicks and zero clue how to use them. Fortunately, I manage. The mini-game is all timing—light on punishment, big on satisfaction. More scrap secured, more confidence gained.

My final stop of the day is Helen. As I slow the train and step off to meet her, I hear that familiar metallic shriek echoing through the forest. Instinct wins: I sprint back to the train, gun ready, waiting for the inevitable screech and charge. Nothing. Just the wind and the kind of silence that feels like it’s holding its breath. After a tense minute, I risk it—back down the path to Helen’s camp.

Helen greets me like I haven’t just done the most dramatic 100-metre dash of my life and explains that Charles can’t simply be killed; he has to be lured into a one-on-one fight to the death. To do that, I’ll need to locate the three eggs hidden in mines across the island and use them to summon him. Simple plan: collect cursed objects, trigger final boss, try not to die first.

Night Falls – The Quiet Before the Screech

I head back to my train under a sky that looks like it’s plotting. There’s another survivor nearby, but they can wait. Somewhere out in the fog, metal claws scrape against steel. Charles knows I’m here—and he wants a word.

Log 1 Pro Tips (Steam Deck Edition)

  • Speed first. Running away is still a strategy—just louder.
  • Scrap early, scrap often. Spend it before Charles taxes it.
  • Keep to the tracks. Wandering equals dying with extra steps.
  • Barry exists. Trust the ripples; they’re not friendly.
  • Fire in bursts. Overheated guns are invitations to funerals.

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

Continue the journey:
Log 1 (You Are Here) | Log 2
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Seven Days to Survive – Day 2: Chickens, Bandages, and Pipe Bomb Decisions

Difficulty: Chill Solo
Optional Features: XP set to 150%

“The chicken wasn’t faster than me — it was simply playing 4D chess while I was stuck with a stone axe.”

Adjustments and Priorities

Loading back in, I realised I’d left my XP multiplier at default. Rookie mistake. Bumped it up to 150% — because if I’m going to die to zombies, I’d at least like to die while leveling a little faster.
First order of business: a buried food stash quest. Second: the elusive dew collector. The recipe calls for 100 scrap polymers, 4 short iron pipes, 4 duct tape, and ideally a water filter. Since I don’t have the filter yet, I’ll only get murky water — but with a cooking pot in the campfire, I can still boil it into something drinkable. Not glamorous, but thirst makes you less picky.

Survivor’s Tip: Dew Collector Water

  • With Water Filter: Collects clean water directly — no cooking needed.
  • Without Water Filter: Collects murky water. Use a cooking pot on the campfire to boil it safe.
  • Murky water is better than no water — just don’t forget to boil it, unless you enjoy dysentery roleplay.

The Chicken Incident

On the way, I decide to test my hunting skills. Enter: chicken. Exit: all my dignity. The little feathered gremlin zig-zagged through the grass like a professional sprinter, forcing me to waste more arrows than I care to admit.
After some zombie interference (probably hired muscle for the chicken mafia), I finally down it. A bone knife later, I had meat for dinner and a stockpile of feathers for arrows.

Blood and Bandages

At the buried stash location, a zombie ambushed me and managed to inflict a bleed. Thank you, starting bandage — you’ve earned your retirement.
Note to self: learn how to craft more. Turns out all you need is cotton → cloth fragments → bandage. Problem solved. My feather surplus also became arrow surplus. Feeling slightly more capable, I dug up the stash and headed back to Trader Rekt.

Pipe Bombs for Later

Rekt offered me a tough choice of rewards. I went with five pipe bombs, because nothing says “Horde Night insurance” like handheld explosives.
Next stop: Papaw residence to unload my loot, then scouting a new Horde base location.

First Steps Toward Horde Night

I laid out the foundations of a 6×3 base. Not glamorous, not reinforced, but it’s a start. I’ll reveal more of its design on the big night — for now, just know it exists, it’s square-ish, and it’s mine.
With daylight fading, I tried to squeeze in a fetch quest, but after one zombie fight it was already 9pm. Jogging zombies are not on my wishlist, so I postponed.

Evening at Papaw’s

Back at Papaw’s, I cooked up my chicken, learned eggs can be eaten raw (filed under: desperate measures), and salvaged what I could.
A zombie came knocking on my door uninvited, so I introduced them to my club. Afterwards, I excitedly crafted an armor crafting kit — only to immediately discover I had no clue how to use it. Survival irony at its finest.

Looking Ahead

Day 2 ends with preparations in motion but confidence on shaky legs. I’ve got pipe bombs, a half-built base, and one less chicken in the world. Tomorrow, I’ll knock out that fetch quest early and dedicate daylight to shoring up my defenses. Horde Night is coming, and I need all the help I can get.

Continue the journey:
Day 1 | Day 2 (You Are Here) | Day 3
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Seven Days to Survive – Day 1: Punching Trees, Evicting Corpses

Seven Days to Survive – Day 1: Punching Trees, Evicting Corpses

Difficulty: Default Survival
Optional Rules: Permadeath, one horde night per week

“I woke up in front of a caravan with a few scraps, a stone-axe dream, and a passive-aggressive note from the Duke. Welcome to 7 Days to Die.”

The Duke Hates Me, Trees Hate My Fists

Like every survival game worth its salt, the tutorial goes like this: punch nature until it gives up resources. Twigs, stones, and grass became my new currency. Before long I’d cobbled together a stone axe, wooden bow, arrows, a club, and some basic armor. The Duke’s instructions? Go see Trader Rekt. Fine. But I’m docking him points for management style.

Papaw Residence: Home Sweet Maybe

On the way, I found the Papaw Residence. Inside: zombies, a cooking pot, and — after several panicked swings and one deeply ungraceful bow shot — victory. A few quick wood frames in the doorways, some repair slapdash on the windows, and I served my first eviction notice to the undead. I dropped the land-claim block because… the tutorial said so. It’s just me out here, but sure, paperwork matters.

Administrative Hostility at Trader Rekt

Rekt handed me a shovel and told me to dig. When I stepped back outside, a zombie was loitering like security had gone on break. A couple of club taps later, the parking lot was clear and my cardio stat was emotionally damaged.

Diggy Diggy Hole (ft. Immediate Zombie)

Quest in hand, shovel in pocket, I marched out to unearth supplies. Within seconds of my first swing, the dirt complained — and so did a nearby zombie, who arrived to file a noise complaint with his teeth. One frantic scuffle later, I was back to the dwarven anthem: “I’m a dwarf, and I’m digging a hole.” Every thunk felt like ringing a dinner bell for the next groaner, but the stash popped and I grabbed the goods.

Snake on a Path

On the return leg I spotted a snake. Compared to the zombies outside Rekt’s place and the dig site, this was stress relief with scales. One arrow later, dinner. The bone knife I’d made earlier turned it into tidy cuts for the pot.

Night by the Fire

Back at Papaw, I set up a campfire, boiled every drop of murky water I’d hoarded, cooked snake meat, and tossed a couple of potatoes on for good measure. The house creaked, the wind howled, and distant moans reminded me that the homeowners’ association here is very hands-on.

Day 1 Reflections

Base secured (ish). Water safe (mostly). Food cooked (definitely snake). I’ve got another buried supplies quest from Rekt lined up for tomorrow and the horde clock has quietly started ticking. One day survived. Seven? We’ll see.

Day 1 Pro Tips (7 Days to Die Edition)

  • Gather early, gather often: Grass, stones, and wood fuel your first tools and defenses.
  • Craft the basics fast: Stone axe, wooden club, wooden bow + arrows, and primitive armor.
  • Secure a roof: A fixer-upper beats the outdoors. Frame and patch doors/windows immediately.
  • Cooking pot = jackpot: Boil water safely and expand your recipe list.
  • Bone knife bonus: Butchering with it yields more meat, hides, and resources.
  • Expect company when digging: Shovels are loud. Fight, reset, keep scanning 360°.
  • Trader quests pay: Early tools, food, meds, and dukes — stack them for momentum.
  • Night jobs: Boil water, cook, sort loot, plan upgrades. Don’t waste the dark.
Continue the journey:
Day 1 (You Are Here) |
Day 2

← Back to Seven Days to Survive Hub

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Survivor’s Dread: Platform 8 – Last Train to Nowhere

“The train keeps moving. Every carriage promises freedom. Every anomaly promises erasure.”

The Setup

Platform 8 is the companion nightmare to Exit 8. Same rules: walk, notice anomalies, survive. Miss them and the world resets. Only this time, you’re trapped on a subway train that never stops. Played on the Steam Deck with Loop = Life: every reset is a dead survivor. Only one makes it off the train. Like Exit 8, this was my very first time playing — learning the rules on the fly, with resets as my only teachers.

The Diary

First survivor: Reached the end of the carriage and saw a figure standing at the exit. I didn’t realise you’re meant to move when the lights flick on. The lights came, the figure moved faster than me, and I was erased.

Second survivor: This time the exit door stood wide open, platform beckoning. I trusted it. I stepped toward freedom. The world snapped back to the first carriage, and so did I. Survivors don’t get second chances for gullibility.

Third survivor: Red water pooled in the aisle. The right move was to sprint. I didn’t. Instead, I shut the door on the carriage like that would help. The reset came anyway, cruel and quiet.

Fourth survivor: I let curiosity win. Instead of spotting the anomaly, I pushed through to the next carriage just to see what would happen. The answer: reset. Straight back to carriage one, another survivor erased for being too nosy.

Final survivor: Paranoia sharpened me. I ran when I had to, stopped when the lights demanded it, and turned back from lies. At last, the train gave up its prisoner. I stepped onto the real platform, escaped the loop, and lived. Luck played its part too. Some of the anomalies repeated from earlier failures, familiar traps I finally knew how to dodge. That memory, plus paranoia, was enough to carry me to the platform.

The Video

Here’s the full successful run, captured on Steam Deck:

Survivor’s Thoughts

The corridor in Exit 8 felt endless. The train in Platform 8 feels worse — claustrophobic, restless, each carriage identical until it isn’t. Four survivors erased before one finally broke free. That’s the real distinction: Exit 8 is a test of attention, Platform 8 is a puzzle box. Both erase you for mistakes, but in different ways.

Continue the Journey

See where it started with Exit 8 – Lost in the Corridor, or browse more nightmares in the Survivor’s Dread Hub.

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Prologue: Go Wayback – Joined the Playtest

“Because clearly I don’t already have enough survival games trying to freeze, starve, or otherwise humiliate me.”

I’ve just joined the Prologue: Go Wayback playtest on Steam. It drops you into a massive, freshly generated wilderness with nothing but your wits, a map, and the eternal hope you can light a fire before hypothermia claims you.

I’ll be playing this on my Steam Deck, so when the first impressions post goes live I’ll not only talk survival mechanics, but also how it runs in handheld mode. Portable chaos, as always.

Want In?

I’ve got three extra invites to hand out. If you’re a friend of mine on Steam (Survivor Incognito) and want to try Go Wayback for yourself, give me a shout. First come, first served.

More Info Coming Soon

Once I’ve had a proper session in the woods, I’ll be back with a full write-up — controls, survival systems, Steam Deck performance, and whether the fire-making is as fiddly (and satisfying) as advertised. Keep an eye on the blog if you want to see how gloriously wrong it goes.

Useful Links

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Survivor’s Dread: Exit 8 – Lost in the Corridor

“The corridor doesn’t need to chase you. It just waits for you to blink.”

The Setup

Exit 8 is a short horror game where survival means noticing anomalies in a looping subway corridor. Miss one and you reset. I played it on the Steam Deck under my Loop = Life rule: every reset is a death, only one survivor escapes.

The Diary

First survivor: I spotted the red water in corridor two. I caught the wall-man in corridor four. Each time I turned back, rewarded by the corridor’s shift. By corridor six, I thought I was safe. Then—blink—reset. No attack, no warning. Something small slipped past me, and that survivor was gone.

What I missed: Door 3 handle placement (corridor six) — misaligned compared to earlier loops.

Second survivor: Paranoia sharpened my vision. Lights flickered and died. A man with a briefcase walked far too fast. A poster grew eyes that tracked me. A face stared from the ceiling. I turned back every time, trusted my instincts, and finally—finally—the real exit appeared. One survivor made it out. The corridor kept the rest.

The Video

Here’s the full successful run, captured raw on Steam Deck:

Survivor’s Thoughts

Exit 8 isn’t about combat. It’s about attention and paranoia. You can catch the obvious anomalies and still fail to a blink. That’s the horror here: survival through vigilance, failure through doubt.

Continue the Journey

More eerie one-shot diaries live in the Survivor’s Dread Hub. Next stop: Platform 8 — the train that never ends.

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