I played more Subnautica yesterday. All that I knew going into the game was what I’d heard online about it: everyone said it’s terrifying. And to be honest, I was not impressed with the terror. I’m swimming around, flippy-flappy mermaid style, pop out of the water, yada yada yada. Sure, it’s pretty. It’s fucking gorgeous, to be honest. But can it be called terrifying? Maybe creepy, but I wasn’t catching feelings.
I’m finally starting to understand that this isn’t a game where you’re led by the hand. Yesterday, I finally managed to get an upgraded oxygen tank, and I can stay under for a little while longer. Now that I’m a bit more comfortable with things, I’m going a little deeper, and a little farther away from my escape pod.
I went swimming around last night.
I was doing the same thing I used to do as a kid at the beach: go straight to the bottom, then follow the seafloor. I’m doing my thing, looking for pretty rocks. The problem with this method is the seafloor isn’t level, and I end up in deeper water than I started in.
Oxygen, the PDA says.
There were a couple of close calls with drowning. The same thing happened at least once when I was around 14 years old. I was probably about 15′ down when I needed to surface. You don’t realize how deep that is until you’re five kicks from the surface with only three kicks worth of air in your lungs. The game has done a fabulous job of replicating that situation for me. I’m better with oxygen management now.
However, none of that compares to the first time I heard it.
I don’t even know what it is, aside from a huge, vague shadow floating in a vast emptiness.
But I can hear it.
I understand now.
