Tag: Survival Diary

Isolation Protocol – Log 3: Revolvers, Rewires, and the Thing in the Vents

Difficulty: Survival Diary Rule – Three Strikes
Optional Rules: NPC kills = game over, Alien kills = limited chances

“Axel didn’t make it. Now it’s just me, a ship full of strangers who want me dead, and something in the vents that definitely isn’t paying rent.”

Humans Are Worse

With Axel gone, my only hope of reaching the Torrens lies in the communications deck. Easy enough — except the moment I step into the elevator area, another survivor decides that today is a good day to introduce me to firearms, up close and personal.

I manage to grab the gadget he dropped (which, of course, is missing a power cell), but before I can even inspect it, her mates show up, heavily armed and highly motivated. Rewiring becomes my best friend: a quick distraction lures three away, but I forgot about the fourth. He has a revolver, and apparently the aim of a cowboy.

Running seems like the best life choice, and surprisingly, they don’t chase me. Probably union rules.

Scavenger’s Delight

With my heart rate only slightly higher than a microwave on full blast, I take stock. A revolver. A keycard. And a flashbang blueprint that reminds me of my Counter-Strike 2 days, where I was just as likely to blind myself as the enemy.

I find a black box from the Nostromo and for one terrible moment think I’ll finally learn what happened to my mother — except, of course, the recordings are gone. Figures.

Lockdowns and Maintenance Jacks

The room seals tight with a full lockdown. The gadget I picked up earlier? Now powered thanks to a conveniently placed cell. My shiny new Security Access Tuner opens doors like magic, but the ship clearly didn’t get the memo: it wants me stuck.

I dig around, crack open a door with my trusty maintenance jack (still my favourite tool), and finally find the terminal to lift the lockdown.

That’s when the vents begin to whisper.

The Monster Appears

It drops down from the ceiling — long, sleek, and infinitely uninterested in human conversation. The same thing that took Axel.

I crawl under a table, holding my breath as it sniffs around. That’s when I remember: I just unlocked extra exits for myself… which also means extra exits for it. Oops.

It slips into the vent and vanishes, leaving me shaken but alive. I follow at a very safe distance and then beeline for the nearest save point, head swivelling like I’m in a budget Exorcist remake.

Game saved. Nerves fried.

Log 3 Closing Thoughts

  • Survivors are hostile and revolvers hurt.
  • Rewiring saves lives.
  • Flashbangs will probably kill me, not the Alien.
  • The Xenomorph exists, it knows I exist, and we’re now on a collision course.

Next time: I find out if my revolver is a comfort, or just six shiny excuses to die loudly.

Continue the journey:
Log 2 | Log 3 (You Are Here) | Coming Soon: Log 4
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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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Surviving the Milky Way: An Elite Dangerous Survival Diary – Day 2: The Rustbucket Rises

Day 2 – The Rustbucket Rises

“These are the voyages of one unprepared Commander. Their mission: to break in a second-hand Adder, deliver mail faster than expected, and discover that cargo pickups can crash more than just your ship.”

From Scraprunner to Rustbucket

The ISS Scraprunner got me this far, but when I spotted an Adder for sale, I couldn’t resist. A few credits later and some questionable tinkering produced the ISS Rustbucket, registry RBT-01. Upgrades included a new Frame Shift Drive, thrusters, fuel scoop, more cargo racks, and an extra weapon. The one thing I didn’t touch? Shields. Whether that’s wisdom or hubris, time will tell.

Courier Life

The mission board offered one contract labelled high threat. I decided exploding wasn’t on today’s agenda and picked safer jobs instead:

  • A data delivery to Marius Relay in the Col 285 Sector AM-R b19-4 system.
  • An agricultural supply run—which bizarrely meant transporting six units of personal weapons—to Wesker’s Pride in the Col 285 Sector BV-E a41-1 system.

On the way to Marius Relay, I got a message offering a bonus for quick delivery. Challenge accepted. The new fuel scoop kicked in automatically, topping up my tank as I skimmed stars. Docking complete, data handed over, and I even ranked up to Peddler. Not glamorous, but it’s better than “galactic stowaway.”

The Cargo That Wasn’t

Then it hit me—I hadn’t actually collected the weapons before leaving. Back to the station I went, already dreading the 20+ jump route ahead. It would at least be a good test for the Rustbucket’s scoop, or so I told myself.

Ten minutes of fiddling with menus later, I finally thought I’d sorted the cargo pickup. That’s when the game crashed. Server connection lost, mission abandoned. The Rustbucket sat waiting, but my courier career ended in digital silence.

Rustbucket Status Report

  • Ship: ISS Rustbucket (Adder)
  • Upgrades: FSD, thrusters, fuel scoop, cargo racks, weapons
  • Untouched: Shields (future-me will regret this)
  • Rank: Peddler
  • Mood: Triumphant → Confused → Disconnected

Next Time

With the Rustbucket ready and the galaxy waiting, I’ll try again. Hopefully the servers stay awake long enough for me to actually deliver cargo. Otherwise, I’ll just become the Milky Way’s most overqualified data courier.

Continue the Journey

← Day 1 | Day 2 (You Are Here) | Day 3 →

Surviving the Milky Way: Series Hub

The Rules of the Stars

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Isolation Protocol: An Alien Isolation Survival Diary – Log 2: The Jack, the Gun, and the Monster

Isolation Protocol – Log 2: The Jack, the Gun, and the Monster

Difficulty: Medium

Optional Features: Permadeath enabled with the Three Strikes Rule

Alien Deaths: 0/3

“Axel says it’s called surviving. I’m starting to think it’s called ‘dying slower.’”

Sevastopol isn’t a space station anymore — it’s a coffin with too many rooms. The walls groan, the lights flicker, and the floor is littered with suitcases nobody will ever claim. Every corner creaks like it’s considering whether to collapse, and the stench is somewhere between fried wires and unwashed corpses.

Somewhere in this mess, I’ve decided, lies survival. Or at least the tools to fake it.

The Maintenance Jack (Switch Edition)

My first discovery is a vent leading to baggage claim. A shadow darts past, proof I’m not as alone as I thought. Naturally, I follow — because curiosity didn’t just kill the cat, it strapped the cat into a jumpsuit and dumped it on Sevastopol.

That shadow leads me to a morgue. Body bags stacked like leftovers nobody wants. And there, in a nearby room, I finally spot my prize: a corpse clutching the Maintenance Jack. He’s left behind an ID tag and a final audio log, a last will whispered into static. I take both, because apparently, I’ve become a grave robber with a side hustle in identity theft.

The Jack is clunky but glorious. On Switch, it works like this:

  • A: Grab the brace
  • Hold ZL + ZR: Apply elbow grease
  • Left Stick: Yank open the door like you mean it

With this tool, half the station is suddenly my oyster. Unfortunately, the other half is still locked behind plasma torches, ion torches, and my crippling lack of luck.

Enter Axel, Stage Left (Gun in Hand)

Just as I’m getting used to prying open doors like a budget locksmith, I find myself in a cutscene with a gun pressed to my head.

Meet Axel. His opening line is basically “don’t move.” My counter-offer is “please don’t shoot.” Somehow, we agree on a deal: he’ll help me through Sevastopol if he gets a seat on the Torrens. His sales pitch is… intense.

He mentions “a killer” stalking the station, but claims he hasn’t seen it. Which is funny, because I have — in the shadows, in the atmosphere, in the dripping dread that clings to every vent.

Not five minutes later, Axel points his gun at two other survivors. His definition of “nice guy” clearly needs work. The elevator door shuts, they vanish, and I find myself trapped in the world’s most awkward team-up.

Flashlights, Blueprints, and Sneaking 101

Axel hands me a flashlight — finally, something to pierce the gloom. On Switch: Y toggles it. Of course, batteries are rarer than honesty in a card game, so I use it sparingly.

Soon after, he introduces me to Sevastopol’s main sport: sneaking past armed strangers. Axel assures me they’ll kill us if spotted, which I would’ve figured out from the way they pace around with twitchy trigger fingers.

I crouch-walk the whole way, hugging shadows while my heartbeat plays the percussion section of a horror soundtrack. I flick the generator off as a distraction and duck into a vent, holding my breath as one of them passes inches from the grate. My first close call, and probably not my last.

On the plus side: I find a Medkit blueprint. Ingredients: 1 x SCJ Injector, 1 x Compound B, 1 x Bonding Agent, and 10 Scrap. I craft one immediately, because nothing says “confidence” like carrying your own first-aid kit in a death maze.

Death of a Guide

We work together to force open a door. Axel gets jumped. I swing the Maintenance Jack like a baseball bat, knocking the guy back. Axel overreacts with a bullet, which echoes down the corridors like a dinner bell for every hostile in range.

We run, ducking into corridors as voices shout behind us. Axel yells, “This is survival!” I yell, “This is stupid!” Neither of us is wrong.

Then: drip.

A shadow looms overhead. Axel freezes. A tail punctures his chest, lifts him clean off the ground, and throws him like a doll into the darkness. No quips. No bravado. Just silence.

The killer is real. And it spares me — for now.

Transit Terror

Shell-shocked, I stumble into the transit station. The lights flicker, the vents groan, and every sound feels like it belongs to the thing that just gutted Axel.

I hit the call button. The screen tells me the train is coming. I wait.

And wait.

Every second stretches into eternity. My eyes dart between the vents and the shadows, convinced something will lunge at me before the doors hiss open.

When the transit finally arrives, I sprint inside, slam the button, and ride it out toward the Spire. Axel is gone. The Alien is here. And I have never hated public transport more in my life.

Log 2 Key Takeaways

  • Maintenance Jack: Your new best friend (A, ZL + ZR, Left Stick).
  • Flashlight: Y toggles it — conserve those batteries.
  • Medkit Blueprint: Injector, Compound B, Bonding Agent, and Scrap.
  • Not all survivors are friendly. Some are Axel. Some are worse.
  • The Alien has entered the stage. Stealth is no longer optional.
Continue the Protocol:
Log 1 |
Log 2 (You Are Here) |
Log 3
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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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SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries – Day Seven: Mud, Bridges, and Big Dreams


“Sometimes the smallest truck has the biggest heart. And sometimes, Red gets new shoes.”

📜 Series Hub: SnowRunner Survival: The Permagear Diaries Main Hub

🛠 Rules: SnowRunner Permagear Rules

💡 Why Permagear Works: Read the reasoning behind the challenge

Missed Day Six? Find it here.

🛣️ Exploring With Red (and Just a Little Jealousy)

With Pipe Dreams in the rear-view mirror, it’s a well-earned day off for Frank. Today? It’s all about Red. He’s got the boundless energy of a puppy on caffeine and the mud-crawling tenacity of… well, a Scout who’s tired of being second-best.

The target? The wooden bridge task. Along the way, I spot a trailer Red thinks he can handle. He can’t. But you’ve got to admire the ambition.

We reach the bridge and, of course, it needs wooden planks. Frank’s domain. But Red’s not done—he also picks up a SnowRunner throttle upgrade (one for himself and one for Scout). Naturally, Red gets the install. Scout remains benched.

🌊 Mud Wrestling and Watchtower Glory

Tempted to spoil Red with more upgrades, I decide to hold off. Then he earns them. Charging through deep mud and water, Red smashes through the terrain to grab another Watchtower like a tiny, determined hero.

Back to the garage we go—Red gets a roof rack for longer hauls and, most importantly, a tyre upgrade. That’s right: better grip, less slipping, and maximum mud-mashing potential. Watch out, Frank.

🪵 Frank Does What Frank Does Best

Now it’s Frank’s turn. Time to deliver those wooden planks and make that bridge a reality. He follows the same route Red scouted earlier, proving why he’s still the heavy-lifting king.

  • Bridge? Built.
  • Frank? Effective as ever.
  • Red? Flexing in the garage.
  • Scout? Still patiently waiting for relevance.

📍 Next Stop: Smithville Dam

Black River is slowly bending to our will, and tomorrow we head deeper into Michigan—straight into Smithville Dam. There will be mud. There will be breakdowns. But Red’s got new tyres, and morale is high.

🛞 Team Status Update

  • Red: Roof rack, throttle upgrade, fresh set of tyres. Officially a mud-slaying menace.
  • Frank: Old reliable. Still gets the job done. Probably feeling a little upstaged.
  • Scout: Collecting dust. One day, Scout. One day.

📸 Coming Soon

  • Red showing off the new tyres.
  • Watchtower victory shot.
  • Frank delivering planks like a pro.

Want more SnowRunner? Day 8 link coming soon.

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Surviving the Milky Way: An Elite Dangerous Survival Diary – Day 1: The ISS Scraprunner Begins Its Journey

Day 1 – The ISS Scraprunner Begins Its Journey

“These are the voyages of one unprepared Commander. Their mission: to survive the Milky Way, avoid fiery death by sun, and boldly fail where no pilot has failed before.”

From Training Wheels to Scraprunner

After proving I could pilot a Sidewinder without immediately crashing — and sticking the landing at Mawson Dock thanks to the autopilot, not my skills — I was officially promoted to Commander. To mark the occasion, I christened my first ship the ISS Scraprunner, registry SCR-01. It rattles like it’s made of leftover bolts, but it’s mine.

First Jobs, First Mistakes

Career options were thin on the board, but I spotted two missions in the Orna system: a Conflict Training Area exercise and a Courier Job. Both in the same system? Easy credits. I accepted both, queued for launch, and let auto-launch guide me out of Mawson Dock. Only as I sat in the departure queue did I realize I’d forgotten to refuel. A promising start.

Upon arrival in Orna, two revelations hit me at once: first, I wasn’t actually allowed to train in the Conflict Area; second, the courier job wasn’t in Orna at all, but at Aldrich Station in the Otegine system. While pondering my career choices, I drifted a little too close to the local star and nearly cooked the Scraprunner. Luckily, I pulled away before it became a barbeque run. At least the courier job got done, which earned me the rank of Mostly Penniless. A fine promotion.

Out of the Nest

My next opportunity came in the form of a mission called Exploring the Galaxy. The deal: leave the Pilots’ Federation District, earn 100,000 credits, and never look back. Naturally, I accepted. The credits had nothing to do with it. Definitely.

I prepped the Scraprunner with a full refuel and minor repairs before setting off on the 14-jump trip to Rattus Mischief in the Col 285 Sector FO-I a39-0 system. After six jumps, I docked at Sasaki Horizons for a quick refuel, only to get a message that my Pilots’ Federation permit was revoked. No going back. Four jumps out, I stopped again to avoid calling the Fuel Rats for my very first rescue. Crisis narrowly avoided.

The Mischief Managed

I made a pit stop at Bluemoon Starport in LHS 3484 for fuel, then continued on my way. Finally, I arrived at Rattus Mischief. Despite my assumption, it wasn’t a person but a starport. I engaged Supercruise Assist, admired the view, docked, and turned in my mission reward. To top it off, I sold my Universal Cartographics data for a tidy 50,908 credits. That little haul bumped me up to Mostly Aimless. Not bad for a ship named Scraprunner.

Next Time

The galaxy awaits, and with the ISS Scraprunner still in one piece, I’m ready to see what kind of trouble I can find. Hopefully, not the sun again.

Continue the Journey

| Next Entry →

Surviving the Milky Way: Series Hub

The Rules of the Stars

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Isolation Protocol: An Alien Isolation Survival Diary – Log 1: Welcome to Sevastopol

Isolation Protocol – Log 1: Welcome to Sevastopol

Difficulty: Medium

Optional Features: Permadeath enabled with the Three Strikes Rule

Alien Deaths: 0/3

“Wake up, get dressed, and then—oh look—Sevastopol is already on fire. Just another day in space.”

I surface from hypersleep mid-dream: Samuels, calm as ever, telling me they might have found my mother. The memory dissolves with the condensation on the pod, and I’m back on the Torrens—groggy, curious, and already bracing for whatever comes next. A quick change (Left Stick to move, L Stick Press to sprint if you’re running late), a polite check-in with Samuels and Taylor, and it’s off to the bridge.

The view outside is a mix of stars, shadows, and the silhouette of Sevastopol Station — our intended destination. We attempt contact, but whoever’s in charge sounds less “welcoming committee” and more “we’re about to collapse into the void.” The Torrens’ captain gives us a 24-hour window before she has to leave. Naturally, the sensible next step is to spacewalk over to the station.

Spacewalk to Disaster

It starts calmly enough… and then part of Sevastopol explodes. Just, you know, explodes. The blast sends Taylor, Samuels, and me flying in separate directions. I lose sight of them immediately. Whether they’re alive or not is a question for later — right now, my only option is to board the station and hope I can make contact with the Torrens.

I make it inside, but not without blacking out first. When I wake, the game politely suggests I “find help.” Thanks for the tip, game.

Arrivals, Departures, and Dust

I strip out of my spacesuit (A to interact when prompted) and begin exploring. The arrivals and departure area is silent — not “space peaceful” silent, but “something is wrong” silent. A detour through a vent (A to climb in, Left Stick to crawl) brings me to a terminal (A to use) with a file explaining the station is being decommissioned. That explains the peeling paint and flickering lights, but not the explosion.

I scavenge what I can — scrap metal, random bits and bobs, anything that looks vaguely useful (A to pick up). The game hands me a flare and tells me how to use it (B to open the radial menu, Right Stick to select flare, ZR to raise it, R to throw). I decide to keep it for emergencies… and then immediately waste it in the next room because the tutorial insists. Lovely.

The Stash and the Strangers

A generator hums back to life under my hands (Tap A three times to crank it like a stubborn lawnmower), and another terminal gives me a code for a stash: 0340. Apparently no one’s bothered to loot it because “nobody goes there anymore.” I file that away for later.

Turning the power on triggers movement — two figures sprint across the room and vanish through a door they promptly lock behind them. Friendly bunch. I give chase, but I’m stopped cold by security glass.

Spotting the Torrens

I reach the passenger lounge, and there she is: the Torrens, still in one piece. All I need now is a way to contact her. Another terminal fills in a few more blanks about the station’s decline, and I even find a new flare to replace the one I wasted earlier. I save my progress (A at an emergency save station, then confirm with A again) — no sense tempting fate.

Next log: with luck, I’ll have more than just a handful of supplies and unanswered questions.

Log 1 Switch Pro Tips

  • Left Stick: Move
  • L Stick Press: Sprint
  • R Stick Press: Crouch
  • ZL: Peek
  • ZR: Raise Motion Tracker
  • A: Interact / Pickup / Save
  • B: Open Radial Menu
  • R: Fire / Throw equipped item
  • D-Pad Up: Open Journal
  • 0340: First stash code — note it down
  • Always save at emergency stations when you can

Continue the Journey

Log 1 (You Are Here) | Log 2

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