Tag: Survival Games

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

Previous Log |
Next Log
Submerged Hub

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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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Survivor’s Log: Submerged Returns

Submerged Returns

A Subnautica Survival Diary

It’s been a while since Submerged last saw an entry.

The last log ended with the Sunbeam’s destruction — the point where Subnautica makes it very clear that rescue isn’t coming, and whatever happens next is down to you.

After that moment, things stalled. I retreated back to the lifepod, kept myself alive, and didn’t really move forward.

Around that time, something happened outside of the game, and I wasn’t in the right headspace to keep recording or writing. There wasn’t a plan anymore, and forcing one wouldn’t have helped.

That pause wasn’t a failure. It was part of the experience.

Now, with some distance from that moment, Submerged is resuming.

The focus going forward isn’t speed or progression. It’s exploration, decision-making, and figuring out how to survive in a world that’s just removed the idea of being saved.

The next entries will pick up naturally from where things left off — widening the search area, testing limits, and seeing what lies beyond the familiar water around the lifepod.

No reset. No fast-forward. Just continuing on.

Follow the Series

If you’re new to the series, Submerged is a survival diary set in Subnautica, played without rushing and documented as it unfolds.

If you’ve been here since the beginning, it’s good to be back in the water.

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Survivor’s Log: Subnautica Site Update

I’ve finally gotten round to a couple of long-overdue Subnautica jobs — the kind that make the site easier to use and stop everything from drifting into chaos.

First, there’s now a proper Subnautica Hub. One place to collect everything Subnautica-related — logs, guides, maps, and future posts — without needing to hunt through tags or old links.

Subnautica Hub:

Subnautica Hub


Second, I’ve built a Subnautica Crafting Reference page. This isn’t a lore dump or a wiki replacement — it’s a practical, at-a-glance list of what you need to craft things, grouped by crafting device and built to be useful while you’re actually playing.

Subnautica Crafting Reference:

Subnautica Crafting Reference Guide


Both pages exist for the same reason: less friction, less tab-hopping, and more time actually surviving underwater.

More Subnautica updates soon — now that the foundations are finally in place.

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Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #5 – Day 10: Quiet Before the Teeth

Unprepared Log 10: Quiet Before the Teeth

Difficulty: Interloper
Region: Mystery Lake
Survivor: Will

Thankfully the recording survived. The wolves did too. Probably.

Thankfully the recording for this and the next log didn’t get corrupted, so I can actually prove I made it through the day.
With a heavy hammer sitting safely in Trapper’s Homestead, that’s one major goal off the list.

Next goal: find a firestriker or a magnifying glass.
I’m tired of living match-to-match like some kind of frozen Victorian chimney sweep.

Charcoal, Caches, and the Bow Clock Ticking

A quick use of charcoal showed I was close to a memento cache.
I had no clue where it actually was, so I did what I always do when I’m unsure: wander deeper into the region and hope it becomes Future Me’s problem.

The wandering at least had value. I found a bunch of birch saplings and hauled them back toward Trapper’s for curing.
The bow phase is coming whether I’m ready or not, and I’d rather not arrive there with the survival equivalent of empty pockets and false confidence.

Hunter’s Blind: A Win With a Catch

I checked the nearby hunter’s blind and finally got a win: a firestriker.
The condition was under 50%, which is not what you want to see on Interloper, but it still counts as “fire insurance.”

Still no magnifying glass, though. Of course.
The game will happily give me the tool I can break, but not the one that turns sunlight into free survival.

Accidental Navigation and the Lookout Plan

Then I did something stupid: I headed off without a path in mind.
No plan, no route, just vibes and cold air.

But once I spotted the Forestry Lookout, my brain finally clicked into place.
I’ve been there on other Mystery Lake visits, so at least this was a stupid decision with a familiar destination.

On the way, I spotted ptarmigans.
My rock-throwing aim remains consistently impressive in the worst way: I missed by miles, spooked them, and watched them fly off like they’d just attended my personal comedy show.

Forestry Lookout: Warmth, Mapping, and a Skillet

The lookout gave me a cooking skillet, which immediately made it feel like I’d walked into a luxury apartment.
It was also warm inside, but I could still use charcoal.

That’s the sweet spot: shelter, warmth, and the ability to map.
I scouted, updated the area, and let myself pretend I was in control for a few minutes.

The Crashed Plane: A Great Idea That Hurt Immediately

From the lookout, I spotted a crashed plane.
And I immediately had that survival-gremlin thought: “There’s definitely something useful in there.”

Only problem: I had absolutely no clue how I was meant to reach it.
I tried a few different approaches, each one worse than the last.

I ended up in pain and tearing my clothes, which is exactly the kind of price Interloper charges for curiosity.
With night coming in, I accepted reality and retreated back to the lookout before I turned a bad climb into a body recovery mission.

Night Prep and the Suspicious Lack of Teeth

Back at the lookout, I prepped like a responsible adult survivor: cooked what I could, repaired what I could, and tried to patch up the damage caused by my brief aviation obsession.

And then it hit me.
I don’t think I saw a single predator today.

Which means they’re either:

  • all stuck behind a rock somewhere, or
  • having a meeting to decide who gets to be the first one to ruin my week.

I’m betting on the meeting.
Interloper loves a coordinated effort.

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 9 |
Unprepared Log 11

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Housekeeping: Choosing Peace Over Point-Scoring

Sometimes the best survival strategy isn’t another torch… it’s knowing when to leave a room.

This is just a quick housekeeping update.

I’ve stepped away from a Facebook group I was previously part of. No names, no call-outs, and no “here’s what REALLY happened” thread — because that’s not what this blog is for, and it’s not the sort of energy I want anywhere near this space.

The simple version is this:

  • I made a mistake.
  • I owned it.
  • I was willing to follow the rules to return.

I did ask for a small amount of leeway so the return process could actually reflect the profile I’m actively using. Not to argue, not to negotiate, not to start a debate — purely for practical reasons so the review would be a fair representation.

But it became clear a decision had already been made, and the conversation wasn’t going anywhere useful.

So I left.

No drama. No hard feelings. Just a calm decision to remove myself from a situation that wasn’t going to improve.

Important note: I’m not here for screenshots, rumours, or “this is what happened” commentary.

If that shows up in the comments, it will be removed. Repeat behaviour will result in a block.

What Matters More

I’m focusing my time and energy where it actually counts:

  • writing survival logs that are fun to read (and occasionally painful to live through),
  • building hubs and guides that actually help people,
  • growing Survivor Incognito into a community that stays welcoming, inclusive, and drama-free.

If you’re here for survival gaming content, structured playthrough diaries, maps, guides, and the philosophy of Surviving, Not Suffering — you’re in the right place.

Back to Business

Right. Enough life admin.

Now, back to the important things:

  • finding food,
  • making questionable decisions with confidence,
  • and getting personally victimised by weather systems.

More posts coming soon.

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Unprepared: An Interloper Survival Diary in The Long Dark Log #4 – Day 3 & Day 4: Running on Fumes

Unprepared Log 4 – Days 3 & 4: Running on Fumes

Difficulty: Interloper
Survivor: Astrid

Food was a problem. Then the weather decided to make it worse.

With food still being the major concern, I would love to say I set out on a determined hunt.

I didn’t.

A blizzard was raging outside, so instead I did what Coastal Highway encourages best: hiding indoors and finding absolutely nothing.

I scavenged what buildings I could reach safely. Cupboards were empty. Drawers mocked me. Coastal Highway, it seems, had decided this run was optional.

Eventually the blizzard began to die down. Not gone — just tired enough to let me make bad decisions again.

Day 3: False Hope

I pushed out and searched a few more houses.

Nothing.

No food. No matches. No miracle tin of peaches hiding behind a chair.

By the end of the day, I accepted reality. I made water, ate what little I had left, and tried to stretch it further than it deserved.

It wasn’t enough, but it bought me another sunrise.

0

Day 4: The Realisation

I woke up in the red.

This felt like the last day of the run. And honestly, I was okay with that. I’d done better than expected, and if this was it, I wasn’t going out crawling.

I packed up and moved, daisy chaining torches as I went.

Then I heard it.

The unmistakable sound of a match being struck.

That’s when it clicked.

I wasn’t lighting torches from each other. I’d been burning through my matches instead.

I checked my inventory.

One torch left.

Jackrabbit Island Panic

I headed straight for Jackrabbit Island, hoping for a bailout.

No matches.

I wasn’t exactly searching calmly, so that one’s on me, but the result was the same.

I still had a flare. Technically, I could start another fire. Realistically, that meant committing to keeping it alive, and I wasn’t thrilled by that idea.

If Coastal Highway had matches, it was doing an excellent job of hiding them.

Beachcombing Salvation

If I was going down, I might as well see what the blizzard had left behind.

I went beachcombing.

And then I saw it.

A deer carcass.

I used my last lit torch to start a fire and got to work. Harvesting. Cooking. Feeding the flames like my life depended on it — because it did.

Then, at the worst possible moment, my TV turned itself off.

No warning. No grace period.

What followed was a mad dash to grab the Steam Deck, wake the screen, and pause the game before the battery ran out and the fire burned itself to death.

Nothing like real-world panic layered on top of Interloper panic.

Once things were stable again, I finished cooking.

For the first time in days, I had real food.

Misanthrope’s Gamble

I weighed my options one last time.

Misanthrope’s Homestead felt just barely reachable.

I took the gamble.

Along the way, I found rabbits and managed to grab two of them before pushing inside.

No matches.

But I did have two flares.

Two more fires. After that, the maths gets ugly.

End of Day 4

I slept for a few hours.

When I woke up, the aurora was dancing outside.

That story deserves its own entry.

I don’t know if I’ll survive another day.

But getting this far has done something dangerous.

It’s made me want to try harder next time.

1

Video Log

Continue the journey:
Unprepared Log 4 – Day 2 |
Unprepared Log 4 – Final Day

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🧭 Survivor’s Log — November 2025

When the dice roll a natural 1, you reschedule, regroup, and log the chaos anyway.

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

When the Dice Betray You

November was supposed to be packed: more logs, more videos, and at least one new project stepping out of the shadows. Instead, as mentioned previously, life rolled a natural 1 on me. A few plans had to be shelved so the offline chaos could be handled first.

The result? Fewer posts than planned, but the campfire is still lit, the hubs are still standing, and the backlog of ideas remains very much alive.

Rediscovering Tyria

On the plus side, I rediscovered Guild Wars. Dropping back into Tyria after all this time felt oddly right — comfortable, dangerous, and full of bad pulls waiting to happen.

With Guild Wars Reforged on the horizon, you can safely assume a lot of my spare time is going to vanish into mission runs, build tinkering, and seeing how much trouble I can get into with heroes and henchmen. Some habits never die; they just wait by the outpost gate.

A Quieter Month at Camp

Because November went sideways, the blog shifted into “keep the lights on” mode rather than “all systems go.” That meant:

  • Some planned entries were delayed or pushed back to a saner month.
  • Ongoing series like Isolation Protocol, Submerged, and 7 Days to Survive stayed on a lighter schedule than intended.
  • The recent site-wide updates to the FAQ, About Me, Rules of Survival, and Surviving, Not Suffering continued to do their job quietly in the background.

Not flashy, but the camp stayed organised, and nothing caught fire that wasn’t supposed to.

Small Wins Still Count

Even in a slower month, a few things still managed to land:

  • The shift to a 2 PM GMT posting schedule continued, giving posts and videos a better overlap with UK, EU, and US readers.
  • The end of Derailed & Doomed: A Choo Choo Charles Survival Diary remained a highlight — the blog’s first full documented win still doing the rounds.
  • Survivor’s Shorts and other videos quietly fed into the archive, strengthening the connection between written logs and gameplay.
  • Ko-fi stayed live in the background, available but unobtrusive — just how it should be.

Not the explosive November originally planned, but still progress. Sometimes survival looks like momentum; sometimes it just looks like not dropping anything important.

Looking Ahead (Carefully)

December’s plans are simple and realistic:

  • Pick up the threads of Isolation Protocol, Submerged, and 7 Days to Survive as time and dice rolls allow.
  • Keep refining the hubs so it’s easier to find older runs and finished series.
  • Let the Guild Wars and Reforged hype simmer in the background and see where it leads on the blog side.

No grand promises, just one core rule: keep the stories moving when possible, and when not, keep the camp ready for when things calm down.

December should bring more structure, more stories, and — inevitably — more things trying to kill me. Business as usual.

Continue the Journey

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Submerged: A Subnautica Survival Diary – Log 6: The Sunbeam Falls

Platform: Steam Deck
Vehicle: Seamoth “Valentino” — maiden voyage
Objective: Reach the Sunbeam landing site
Status: Stranded indefinitely

“Turns out the cavalry isn’t coming — mostly because a giant alien cannon just vaporised them.”

With my Seamoth finally ready — Valentino’s first dive into open water — I headed toward the Sunbeam landing site. For once, I actually felt hopeful. Then the radio crackled again. Another distress call — this time from Lifepod 19. They could wait. If they were still alive, they’d understand. I had a rescue ship to meet.

The Island of False Hope

Reaching the site, I was greeted by something I definitely didn’t expect: a massive Alien structure that screamed “DO NOT ENTER.” A shimmering forcefield blocked the main door, and every instinct told me I was way out of my depth — both literally and metaphorically.

I parked Valentino nearby and started exploring on foot. The island itself felt eerily empty, save for the alien architecture humming with quiet menace. It wasn’t long before I found strange purple artifacts and terminals that told stories of technology way beyond anything I’d ever seen. One room even held a doomsday device — thankfully, deactivated.

The Infection Revealed

Eventually, I found what looked like a control terminal. My PDA hinted it might shut down the “cannon” perched above. I scanned it, ready to save the day — only for the machine to stab me with a robotic needle and announce, in the most clinical way possible: “Infection detected. Cannot deactivate.”

I scanned myself. Sure enough — infected. The planet was under quarantine, and I was part of the problem now. The only way out? Find a cure. Deeper in the ocean. Because of course it couldn’t be simple.

Fireworks at Dusk

With nothing else to do but accept my new membership in the “Forever Stranded” club, I returned to Valentino and made for the landing site once more. Another radio message came through — ignored. My focus was fixed on the sky.

And then, it happened. The Sunbeam dropped out of orbit, descending toward the island. A blinding green light surged from the alien structure. The cannon fired. And just like that, my rescue became a fireball.

I stood there in stunned silence, the sky lit up with debris and despair. The PDA chirped calmly in my ear, reminding me that rescue was “no longer an option.” Thanks, PDA. Really helps.

Guess I’d better make myself comfortable. It’s going to be a long stay on 4546B.

Video Log

Watch the Sunbeam’s final moments here once the video is live.

Continue the Journey

← Log 5.5: The Waiting Game |
Log 7: Coming Soon

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