Tag: subnautica survival diary

Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 12: Growing Up

Submerged – Log 12: Growing Up

Platform: Steam Deck
Mode: Survival
Format: No Commentary

Video: Floating Island farming run, lifepod sweep, wreck exploration, and base expansion (no commentary)

I had a lightbulb moment today. I’m fed up of chasing fish.

Every time my hunger dips, I stop what I’m doing, grab the knife, and head outside like I’ve never planned further than the next five minutes. It works. It keeps me alive. It also feels temporary.

The island has fruit. The fruit grows on trees. Trees can be replanted.
The solution has been sitting there the entire time.

If I’m here for the long haul, I need to act like it.

I headed back to the island with one job: harvest what I need and leave. No sightseeing. No heroic dives. Just infrastructure.

As soon as I arrived, I noticed a distress signal directly below the island. Of course there was. I added it to the list and focused on the plants first. Priorities.

I moved through the vegetation carefully. Some of it looks useful and isn’t. Then I found the Bulbo Trees.

Knife out. Controlled hits. Samples collected.

Once cut, they’re on a timer. That’s all I could think about as I made a quick detour down to the lifepod beneath the island. Inside, I picked up a PDA that helpfully informed me the Aurora meeting point was… the island I was just standing on.

Great. Glad we cleared that up.

I didn’t hang around. Back to base.

Titanium gathered. Indoor growbed fabricated. Crops planted immediately. No hesitation.

I stood there longer than I expected, watching them settle into place. It felt different. Less scrambling. More planning.

If this works, food stops being a daily chore. Water still needs attention, but solving one problem at a time is how this becomes manageable.

With farming underway, I checked my signals properly. Two lifepods stood out. One near the Aurora. Another roughly four hundred metres away and one hundred metres down.

I followed the first coordinate carefully. Adjusted for the compass. Reached it.

It was already looted.

I’ve clearly been there before. I don’t remember recording it. At some point in the past, I must have visited, taken what I could, saved, and moved on. Not ideal. From now on, cleared pods get marked properly.

On the way to the second lifepod, I found a wreck and went inside. I can’t help myself. Inside, I found a Battery Charger fragment and another Bioreactor fragment.

The charger is the real win. I’ve been rationing batteries like they’re rare artefacts. One more fragment and that changes completely.

The second lifepod was intact but empty. I had a small laugh at how it had all ended. The ocean has a sense of humour. I took what I could and left.

Back at base, I decided to expand. A tunnel. Another room. The fabricator and I had a brief disagreement about placement, but eventually it cooperated.

The base feels less like a crash shelter now and more like something intentional. At the same time, hull integrity keeps dropping with every addition. The bigger it gets, the weaker it becomes. Reinforcement is climbing the list quickly.

The crops are growing.

That alone changes the tone of everything.

I still need to head back to the Aurora and see what’s waiting in the Captain’s Quarters. That will be deliberate. Planned.

For now, though, survival feels… easier.

I don’t trust that feeling entirely.

But tonight, I’m not chasing fish.

I’m growing them out of the equation.

Continue the Journey

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 11: Copper, Caves, and Structural Regret

Submerged Log 11: Copper, Caves, and Structural Regret

Platform: Steam Deck

Video: Base upgrades, lifepod dive to 250m, cave panic, and Seamoth improvements (no commentary)

I was going to chase the black box. Then I remembered the giant alien laser. Priorities shifted.

The plan had been simple: head back to the Aurora, find the black box data, and pretend I wasn’t about to get shot out of the sky by an alien cannon.

Reality check: I’m not leaving this planet anytime soon.

If I’m here for the long haul, the base needs to stop feeling like a damp hallway with ambition.

Bulkheads, Flooding, and The Game Laughing Directly at Me

I started by looking at a bulkhead, because in my head that means “less flooding” and “more responsible adult survival.”
In practice, the game basically laughed and told me to enjoy living in a fish tank.

So I pivoted to the upgrades that actually move the needle:
more power and medical supplies.

Solar Power and the Medkit Fabricator: A Short Story About Suffering

Goal one: another solar panel.
Goal two: a medkit fabricator, because I’m tired of treating “hope” as a healing item.

Then I checked what I needed and immediately had a new enemy: creepvine samples.
Not because they were hard to get.
Because I already had them.
And then I ate them.

So off I went to replace the snacks I shouldn’t have treated as snacks.

Radio Interruptions: Lifepod 4 Joins the To-Do List

Mid-upgrade, I got a distress signal from Lifepod 4, with the helpful advice to wear a radiation suit.
Which is fair.
But I’ve already handled that situation.

So Lifepod 4 gets added to the list of places I will absolutely go to…
once I’m done putting out the current fires I set myself.

Copper: The Myth, The Legend, The Personal Insult

Copper remains elusive.
I’m finding diamonds more often than copper, which feels like the planet is doing comedy at my expense.

All of this because I need copper wire for a computer chip.
Which means the moment I want to build something “basic,” the universe decides I need to earn it.

At this point I’m seriously considering a scanner room, purely so I can stop living my life like a metal detector with legs.

Medkit Fabricator Online (Finally)

Once the medkit fabricator was up and running, I moved on to a quality-of-life upgrade I should have made ages ago:
a beacon.

I named it “base”, because:

1) it is a base

2) I would like to find it again

3) I don’t need to overthink this

Valentino Goes Deep: The 250m Lifepod Run

With “base” now marked like a sensible person would do, I took Valentino for a drive to a lifepod sitting around 250m down.

Naturally: no survivors.
The ocean doesn’t do happy endings.

But I did come away with something useful: a blueprint for a Repulsion Cannon.
I still need a Modification Station before I can get too excited, but I’ll take a win when it shows up.

The Beautiful Cave That Immediately Became A Problem

Next up: a cave near another lifepod location.
The cave itself is gorgeous.
It’s also the kind of place where you realise, mid-swim, that you have no idea where the exit is.

And that’s when I moved “make a beacon” from “good idea” to “non-negotiable survival requirement.”

I eventually found my way back out, and I didn’t drown in a glowing underwater postcard, so that counts as success.

Valentino’s New Problem: He Can’t Go Anywhere Without Taking Damage

Back at base, I had a new priority: hull reinforcement for Valentino.
He couldn’t so much as breathe underwater without scraping something and taking damage.

So I did what any reasonable person would do:
I went hunting for diamonds.
For armour.
On a submarine scooter.
Completely normal.

Eventually I got lucky and upgraded Valentino with:

  • Hull Reinforcement
  • Storage Module

Now he’s tougher, roomier, and slightly less likely to come home looking like he lost a fight with a rock.

Next Time (If Copper Stops Playing Hard To Get)

  • Hit Lifepod 4 (radiation warning acknowledged, thanks)
  • Seriously consider a Scanner Room to end the copper scavenger hunt
  • Start working toward the Modification Station so that Repulsion Cannon isn’t just a tease
  • Revisit the Aurora plan… after accepting I’m probably getting shot down anyway
Continue the journey:

Log 10 | Log 11 (You are here) | Log 12

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 9: Beacons, Blueprints, and a First Proper Home

Submerged Log 9: Beacons, Blueprints, and a First Proper Home

Platform: Steam Deck

Video: Beacon run, Mushroom Forest scavenging, and first base module (no commentary)

When you hit a brick wall in Subnautica, the game doesn’t give you a hint. It gives you more ocean.

I’ve stalled out. Upgrades are half-finished, blueprints are dangling just out of reach,
and my “plan” has become a list of things I’d like to do once I stop being poor in titanium.
So I do the only thing left: explore.

My memory is decent, but this planet is an endless blue maze, and I’m done pretending I’ll remember
where anything is. It’s finally time to start using beacons properly.

Beacon Therapy (Mushroom Forest Edition)

I craft a beacon, head out to the Mushroom Forest, and deploy it the second I arrive.
The logic is simple: if the radio nudged me here once, there’s probably something useful nearby.
I name the beacon, mark the spot, and start searching with actual purpose for once.

The theory pays off fast. I find another piece of the Cyclops puzzle, and — more importantly —
the second Moonpool fragment.
That one moment flips the entire run. Base building isn’t a “someday” thing anymore.
It’s now.

Side Loot: Shale Outcrops and Surprise Diamonds

Since I’m already here (and my sense of direction has clearly been outsourced to a beacon),
I start checking what this biome actually offers.

The big win: diamonds in shale outcrops.
That’s the kind of detail Future Me will be grateful for, assuming Future Me survives
long enough to remember why diamonds matter.

Prep Work: Pin Recipes, Build the Tool, Commit to a Location

I head back to the lifepod and start doing the boring-but-important part:
preparation.
I pin the recipes I know I’ll need, craft the Habitat Builder,
and finally accept that I need a home that isn’t a floating tin can with a radio.

Of course, the radio fires off another distress signal mid-planning.
I add it to the list. I already know how that story ends: no survivors,
just another location stamped onto my growing collection of disappointment.

Base Site Picked (Mostly): “Somewhere Between Here and There”

I settle on a spot roughly halfway between my lifepod and the Mushroom Forest.
In theory, it’s a sensible compromise: close enough to my old “base” for convenience,
close enough to the Mushroom Forest for materials and fragments.

In practice, I’m eyeballing distance in open ocean, which is basically the same
as saying I chose the location by vibes.

I place the first module and immediately run into the first real base problem:
power.
No power means no oxygen inside, which is a fun twist for something that is supposed to be a shelter.

Power Decisions: Solar Wins (For Now)

I weigh up options and land on solar. It’s not glamorous, but it’s doable right now,
and “right now” is the only timeframe this planet respects.

I do some early prep for the Moonpool materials while I’m thinking about the future,
but the titanium math is brutal.
I’m going to need a lot more, which means a dedicated scrap hunt is officially coming.

Hatch Installed, Oxygen Not Included

I craft a hatch so I can actually get inside my new base, but until I get power online,
it’s basically a room-shaped hazard.
No power, no oxygen — and my base is currently doing a great impression of a death trap.

I do have an idea for how to work around that if I need to,
but first I want to solve the problem properly.

Radio Upgrade: No More Lifepod Commuting

One small quality-of-life win: I get a radio set up at the base-in-progress.
That way, I don’t have to keep swimming back to the lifepod every time the game
decides to hand me another “go here” message.

I also keep the Seamoth parked close by.
It’s doing double duty as a safety net and a temporary beacon until I can get a second
beacon made specifically for the base location.

Solar Online: First Breath in the New Base

Once the solar panel finally goes up, everything changes.
I step inside my newly powered base and take the first proper breath of “this might actually work.”

It needs a lot of work. It’s barely more than a shell.
But it’s mine, it’s powered, and it’s a start.
Temporary home or not, it’s the first thing on this planet that feels even slightly under control.

Continue the journey:
Previous Log |
Next Log
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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 8: Upgrades, Interruptions, and Half a Plan

Submerged Log 8: Upgrades, Interruptions, and Half a Plan

Platform: Steam Deck
Survivor: Will

Video: Lifepod search, blueprint checks, and radio message fallout (no commentary)

At this point, lifepods feel less like rescue and more like themed disappointment.

With another lifepod location handed to me over the radio, I decide that’s the next logical stop.
Based on my current success rate, I’m not expecting survivors — and I’m right.

Before heading out, I check my blueprints. This is a mistake. Or a motivation boost.
The Seamoth list is stacked: fragments, upgrades, and a solar charging module that promises freedom
from constantly babysitting power cells.

I pin what looks useful and head out, already planning upgrades I absolutely do not have yet.

The Lifepod (Again)

No survivors. No surprises. Just the ocean doing what it does best.

What I do find is lithium — which is genuinely useful. Several of my blueprints need it.
The problem is the usual one: I find one node, then spend far too long failing to find another.

Eventually, frustration wins. I abandon the search and head back to base,
completely forgetting that this trip was also meant to scout a future base location.
Seamoth upgrades take priority over long-term planning.

Alterra Checks In

Back at the lifepod, the radio crackles again — and this time it’s not another survivor.

The message sounds official. Alterra knows what happened. They know rescue will take a long time.
But they have an alternative.

The Captain’s Quarters aboard the Aurora is intact. There’s a black box.
I’m given the code to access the quarters and instructions that supposedly help me
“meet them halfway.”

All of this unfolds while someone in the background pesters them about a lunch run.
Apparently, ordering food is a higher priority than stranding protocol.

The Missing Step

On paper, escape now sounds possible. In practice, there are problems.
I’m still infected, and the giant alien laser hasn’t exactly signalled that I’m free to leave.

I turn my attention back to something I can control: the Seamoth solar charger.
I gather the materials. I go to the fabricator.

Nothing.

I check the Mobile Vehicle Bay. Still nothing.
I have what I need, but I’m missing a step somewhere — blueprint, fragment, or prerequisite.
Classic Subnautica.

With upgrades stalled and questions piling up, the next move is obvious:
back to the Aurora, into the Captain’s Quarters, and finally find out
what Alterra thinks “halfway” actually means.

Continue the journey:
Previous Log |
Next Log
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🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 5.5: Racing the Sunbeam

5.5

“Rescue was coming. Naturally, that meant it was time to start a new project instead.”

Platform: Steam Deck
Difficulty: Survival
Recording: Lost due to file corruption — because the ocean clearly wasn’t done messing with me.

Author’s Note: Unfortunately, my recording for this session corrupted before I noticed. So this entry is reconstructed from memory — a cautionary tale for all survivors who trust autosave more than their capture software.

Message from the Heavens

It begins with the crackle of static — another message from the Sunbeam. They’ve located a landing site. They’re on their way. Forty minutes until pickup.

Forty minutes until salvation.

Naturally, I decide to ignore the pending rescue entirely and go chase the final piece of the Mobile Vehicle Bay instead. Priorities.

The Hunt for Titanium and Sanity

I swim toward the Sunbeam’s coordinates, eyes peeled for fragments. Just as I’m starting to lose hope — there it is. The final piece.

I bolt back toward my lifepod like my oxygen tank depends on it (which, to be fair, it always does). The excitement of progress pushes me faster than any propulsion cannon ever could. I check the crafting requirements — Titanium Ingot, Power Cell, a few odds and ends I already have scattered in lockers. Easy enough.

And since I clearly have time before rescue, I think, “Why not go bigger?” Enter: the Seamoth. The personal submersible of my dreams.

Building the Dream

The Mobile Vehicle Bay is first on the list. Titanium gathered, ingot forged, power cell crafted from the remains of old batteries. When it finally deploys and floats proudly on the surface, it feels like progress — real progress.

I climb aboard, ready to build my Seamoth, and immediately realise I’ve made a rookie mistake. No Titanium Ingot. Again. The ocean mocks me with its silence as I swim off once more, scavenging every bit of wreckage I can find.

Eventually, success. The Seamoth blueprint completes, and the little sub rises from the water like a gift from the deep. She’s beautiful — and mine. I climb in, listen to the AI purr, and feel an unfamiliar thing: hope.

There’s still time before the Sunbeam arrives. I point my Seamoth toward the landing site. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll make it in time to see the sky light up with something other than plasma fire.

Next: The Sky Burns

I set course for the island, my Seamoth slicing through the water like it was always meant to be there. The radio says twenty minutes until the Sunbeam arrives. The ocean says otherwise.

Continue the Journey:
Log 5: Waiting for the Sunbeam | Log 6

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🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 5: Scanners, Stalkers, and the Elusive Bay

“Sometimes survival means chasing blueprints you’ll never find and pretending the ocean isn’t full of things that want to hypnotise you.”

Platform: Steam Deck
Objective: Wait for the Sunbeam transmission and maybe, just maybe, build something that floats.

Exploration (a.k.a. Avoiding Impatience)

With nothing to do but wait for the Sunbeam’s next message, I decide to make the most of my surface time. I remember having another lifepod distress signal stored, so I tag it on my HUD and head out exploring. At first, the ocean feels empty — just me, the waves, and a slowly draining battery supply — but that doesn’t last long.

After a bit of aimless swimming, I finally stumble upon the final fragment for the Laser Cutter. I can practically hear the sound of sealed Aurora doors opening already. Victory, thy name is “I can finally cut stuff.”

In the midst of my excitement, I make the questionable decision to scan a Stalker. It could’ve gone wrong in a hurry, but apparently it was too busy minding its own business to care. A rare win for curiosity over self-preservation.

The Hunt for the Mobile Vehicle Bay

With the Laser Cutter blueprints ready, I set my sights on something even more crucial: the Mobile Vehicle Bay. I want my Seamoth — freedom in miniature submarine form. I head toward Lifepod 17 again, the same one that’s been testing my patience since last time.

Luck strikes early — I find two out of three pieces for the Bay in fairly quick succession. Naturally, that’s where the good fortune ends. The third? Nowhere to be seen. I comb the seabed, check every wreck, and even chase shadows thinking they might be fragments. Spoiler: they weren’t.

In true Subnautica fashion, my HUD decides to stop showing the lifepod marker mid-journey. A quick reset fixes it, but it doesn’t help my sense of direction — or my growing frustration. Ten to fifteen minutes later, I’m still empty-handed.

Strange Fish and Stranger Plants

To add to the ambience, I discover a few plants with anger issues and meet a Mesmer — a deceptively pretty fish that freezes you mid-swim while whispering sweet nonsense. The first time it happened, I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, and then suddenly — WHAM. Out of the trance, face-to-face with a glowing fish that definitely wanted me gone.

Thankfully, the Propulsion Cannon was in my hands. A single blast later, and the Mesmer was forcibly introduced to the local wall. Justice served.

Calling It a Night (Reluctantly)

As darkness falls, I decide to call it a day. Nighttime on this planet is truly pitch black, and I’m not wasting my last batteries trying to play deep-sea Marco Polo with blueprints. Still, it wasn’t a wasted trip — I unlocked a few new crafting recipes and gathered plenty of scan data for the databank. Just not the one blueprint I actually wanted.

Tomorrow, the ocean and I will have words. Preferably near the wrecks that have Mobile Vehicle Bay fragments.

Video Log

Continue the Journey

⟵ Log 4: The Cannon and the Leviathan |
Log 5.5: The Sunbeam’s Shadow ⟶

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🌊 Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary — Log 4: Extinction Prevention (Mostly)

“Turns out nuclear safety training is optional when you’re the only one left alive.”

Mode: Survival | Platform: Steam Deck

Post-Reaper Priorities

After my last close encounter with the Reaper Leviathan, I decide that maybe, just maybe, going silver-hunting anywhere near them is a bad idea. I still need that silver for my Propulsion Cannon, but I’d rather not earn another traumatic underwater flashback. I remember some sandstone outcrops near Lifepod 17, so I head there instead.

Luck is finally on my side. I find the silver pretty quickly, head back to my lifepod, and get to work. A few crafted materials later, I’m officially armed with a Propulsion Cannon. I briefly consider testing it on the Reaper — just to see what happens — but deep down, I know it would end poorly for me and hilariously for the Reaper.

Back to the Aurora

Feeling brave (or foolish), I head back to the Aurora. Naturally, my Seaglide’s battery dies halfway there, because Subnautica loves timing like that. After swapping it out, I make my way inside and retrace my previous steps. The crates that blocked me before? One satisfying Propulsion Cannon blast later, and I’m through.

I’m not sure what I expected — treasure, danger, maybe another PDA full of corporate nonsense — but what I definitely didn’t expect was a locked door with a keypad. For a moment, I almost give up. Then I remember my PDA might know something I don’t (which is most things), and there it is — a door code: 1454. It takes a few attempts — because typing underwater is hard — but eventually, the door slides open.

The Reactor Room

Behind it lies the reactor room, complete with glowing warnings telling me not to enter without training. Fortunately, no one’s around to stop me — and the ship is literally falling apart — so I take that as an invitation.

Radiation warning blaring, I dive in. The place is crawling with those little aggressive sea pests who’ve apparently decided this nuclear chamber is home sweet home. I’m too focused on repairing breaches to care. Twelve welds later, the Aurora’s no longer in danger of turning the ocean into a radioactive soup. One crisis averted, and I didn’t even vaporise myself. I’ll take that as a win.

Lifepod 4 and the Sunbeam

On my way back to Lifepod 5, I spot something bobbing on the surface. It’s an upside-down lifepod — number 4, to be exact. Curiosity wins, and I investigate. Inside, I find a PDA and a Creature Decoy blueprint. Probably not a coincidence that this pod didn’t make it.

Back at my base of operations, I reward myself with some cooked fish and clean water before checking the latest radio transmission. It’s from the Sunbeam — they’ve heard my signals and are getting closer. They just need to find somewhere to land.

Awaiting Rescue

Not sure what I’ll do while I wait. I’ve got Seamoth blueprints now, but no sign of the Mobile Vehicle Bay fragments I need to actually build one. So for the time being, it’s just me, my Seaglide, and the ever-expanding ocean of things trying to eat me.

I didn’t expect preventing an extinction-level event to be this quick — though I suspect the planet has plenty more chaos in store. For now, I’ll gather resources, explore nearby wrecks, and keep an eye out for those fragments. And maybe go swimming, just… not too deep.

Continue the journey:
Log 3: The Reaper’s Warning |
Log 5: Scanners, Stalkers & The Elusive Bay
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🧭 Survivor’s Log — October 2025

Half a year of portable chaos, a quiet Ko-fi launch, major page refreshes, and — finally — a win.

Log Date: November 1, 2025 · Filed By: Survivor Incognito

Six Months in the Wild

Somehow, Survivor Incognito is now over six months old — which feels equal parts surreal and chaotic. What started as a single The Long Dark diary has grown into a sprawling survival archive spanning frozen coastlines, haunted train tracks, and alien oceans. October wasn’t just another month of posts — it marked the blog’s first real milestone: half a year of surviving, thriving, and occasionally panicking.

Maintenance Mode (and Quiet Upgrades)

This month, the site’s foundation got some love. The FAQ, About Me, Rules of Survival, and Surviving, Not Suffering: The Survivor Incognito Philosophy pages all received major updates — cleaner structure, clearer links, and a touch more snark. Not glamorous, but it keeps the camp running smoothly.

Ko-fi: Quietly Deployed

I’ve quietly launched a Ko-fi — no trumpet fanfare, just a small “support the chaos” button. As always, it’s entirely optional; look after yourself first. If you do choose to support, thank you — that caffeine powers a surprising amount of near-misses.

🚂 Victory at Last — Choo Choo Charles

After months of near-misses, permadeath heartbreaks, and wolf-related tragedies, Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Charles Survival Diary ended with something rare: a win. Charles was fast, angry, and deeply cursed — but the train met its match. It’s the first official victory on the blog, wrapped up neatly in time for Halloween. A proper milestone — and a satisfying clang of the bell.

What’s Next?

November marks the return of ongoing stories that took a brief hiatus during the Charles showdown — including Isolation Protocol (claustrophobic corridors), Submerged (alien depths), and 7 Days to Survive (undead neighbours and suspiciously flimsy doors). Each will pick up where they left off — with the usual measured chaos.

And yes — there’s more chaos coming.

Continue the Journey

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🎥 Survivor’s Shorts – The Reaper Leviathan Found Me


“I saw it. It saw me. I screamed louder.”

You know that moment in Subnautica when you realise the ocean doesn’t just want you gone — it wants to make a spectacle out of it? This was mine.

Recorded on Steam Deck, this short captures my first (and very unwanted) close encounter with a Reaper Leviathan. Let’s just say I left the area faster than the PDA could update my vitals — and somehow survived with a sliver of health left.

From: Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 3
Platform: Steam Deck
Series: Survivor’s Shorts

Sometimes survival isn’t about bravery. It’s about panic-swimming in the opposite direction and hoping the monster gets bored first.

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 3 | The Aurora Problem (and the Leviathan Bigger Problem)

Platform: Steam Deck | Difficulty: Survival

“The Aurora is going to explode…” — my PDA, several minutes before the actual explosion.

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
Continue the journey:
Log 2 |
Log 4 Coming Soon
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