And in doing so, we rebuild a sense of security and safety out of old haunts and homespun landmarks like sea base buildings and deployable beacons.īut that security is fleeting, because even in the smaller, more focused map that Below Zero features compared to its predecessor, there always seems to be more space. It can be a slow process, like fumbling for a light switch on the other end of an unlit room, but we get there eventually (perhaps after tripping over a couple of things) we begin to remember the depths and the vague locations of where to get certain resources, of which objects are in which biomes.
We float through what amounts to another manifestation of horror game fog, freedom at the price of wondering what could be out there from every possible direction, in an ocean where it is all too easy to get turned around.Įventually, we do come to learn the space, recognizing things like which creatures are behind the terrifying roars that cut through the ocean ambiance. Swimming provides a freedom of motion that lets you go anywhere, but you typically can’t see very far into the distance - the already-murky visibility fluctuates depending on what biome we wander into, how deep we dive, and how late in the day it is.
The wide space becomes oppressive, a distressing counterpart to the apparent exhilaration of the open world “see that mountain/you can go there” ethos. In practice, however, underwater navigation collapses the minuscule certainty and security we cling to in more straightforward horror games, stripping us of our knowledge of where we need to go and from which direction something freaky will emerge. The unknown becomes a direct and quantifiable space right there in front of us, and by moving through it we essentially carve a safe zone out of the darkness, either totally clearing enemies and obstacles from the areas behind us or mentally noting their presence if we must ever return.Ĭonversely, Subnautica ‘s oceans offer plenty of nonlinear space, with plenty of escape routes and room to maneuver that should, in theory, work against any feeling of vulnerability. We steel ourselves against what we believe is to come, which is an effective approach to horror in its own right - our minds cook up possibilities for what could emerge from the unknown, and the only way to progress is to step forward against our better judgment and risk finding out.īut such linearity also comes with a vague certainty of where we must go and where the really hairy, bone-chilling stuff is going to happen. It strings us along one-way paths because linearity is the surest bet to successfully engineer tension, allowing developers to count on players being in certain places looking in certain directions when something finally goes, “Boo!” (Not for nothing did so many early entries in the genre operate from fixed camera perspectives.) And in a tightly scripted, claustrophobic horror game, we can somewhat prepare. The traditional horror game unfolds in what are either claustrophobic corridors or thinly-disguised versions of them. Though the scary parts of Subnautica are often inherent to its very premise of underwater survival, the ways that premise has been realized through a video game work in conjunction with versions of and/or responses to modern game design conventions, creating a game that has these frightening qualities baked into its very structure. But I think that stress stems from more than a specific brand of instinctual terror, certainly related but not quite the same. I can’t say for sure whether this is the root of my own reaction to the game, but either way, I’m sure it would make playing any Subnautica - both the original game and its arctic-based standalone expansion-turned-semi-sequel Subnautica: Below Zero - a rather stressful experience.
I am not one of these people, and I will not pretend to understand them.Ī cursory search around a more relatable demographic, people who are in fact scared as shit by playing Subnautica, points again and again to “thalassophobia,” which means the fear of deep bodies of water. For these people, the gradual acquisition of resources to construct bases, vehicles, and tools to more efficiently acquire resources is a serene process, a task to do at your own pace while leisurely following story threads about what happened on the mysterious Planet 4546B. They find it pleasant to swim through an underwater alien world where distinct and colorful biomes seamlessly melt together, dense with extraterrestrial flora and fauna. There are people who, I am told, feel relaxed when they play Subnautica.
0 kommentar(er)
