Subnautica is gripping from the very first moments, as you’re ejected from a disintegrating starship onto a watery alien world. Beyond the relative safety of your life pod, an expansive, diverse range of aquatic biomes brimming with awe and personality awaits. From the shallow, murky kelp forests to the surreal, alien shark-infested expanse of the underwater islands, the surprises never seemed to cease as I pushed to explore further and deeper. Along the way, I discovered the foreboding, Ridley Scott-esque wreck of the ship that brought you here to explore… and a couple other surprising detours I don’t want to spoil.

One of the most unexpected things about Subnautica, in comparison to other games in its genre, is that it’s legitimately terrifying. I don’t mean the tension of possibly losing my inventory when being chased by a shark. I’m talking about the kind of fear I feel when playing Amnesia or Outlast. Drifting in the open water by moonlight, knowing the sea floor may be hundreds of meters below me and safety is nowhere in sight, all while the echoing wails of massive, predatory leviathans resonate from somewhere in the inky black, never failed to make my heart rate rise. Wait - did that last one sound closer?

Subnautica is gripping from the very first moments, as you’re ejected from a disintegrating starship onto a watery alien world. Beyond the relative safety of your life pod, an expansive, diverse range of aquatic biomes brimming with awe and personality awaits. From the shallow, murky kelp forests to the surreal, alien shark-infested expanse of the underwater islands, the surprises never seemed to cease as I pushed to explore further and deeper. Along the way, I discovered the foreboding, Ridley Scott-esque wreck of the ship that brought you here to explore… and a couple other surprising detours I don’t want to spoil. One of the most unexpected things about Subnautica, in comparison to other games in its genre, is that it’s legitimately terrifying. I don’t mean the tension of possibly losing my inventory when being chased by a shark. I’m talking about the kind of fear I feel when playing Amnesia or Outlast. Drifting in the open water by moonlight, knowing the sea floor may be hundreds of meters below me and safety is nowhere in sight, all while the echoing wails of massive, predatory leviathans resonate from somewhere in the inky black, never failed to make my heart rate rise. Wait - did that last one sound closer?