![]() They don’t make it tap-water clear why you, the person reading this, should drop whatever you’re doing and go play this game. And listen, that’s nice and all, but come on! These reviews don’t do the game justice (though RPS comes closest). Rock Paper Shotgun, who I can normally rely on for flowery prose, praises the game’s message of non-violence. They say it’s popular with streamers, which is also true. Instead, most reviews conclude that Subnautica is “a solid survival/crafting game”. There should be sycophantic reviews of Subnautica peans to Subnautica. We’re talking about one of the best games of our generation here! This game should have reviews like the Kotaku review of Red Dead Redemption 2. The number is colored green, so I think that’s good?īut there are no great reviews of Subnautica. The game has gotten high marks from critics and consumers alike since release at time of writing, it’s sitting at an 87 on Metacritic. Oh, I don’t mean there aren’t any positive reviews. But upon closer examination, it turns out that there are no great reviews of Subnautica. ![]() What I’d like to do is link to all the game’s greatest reviews. My long wait to play it is nearly at an end. In related news, I recently learned that Below Zero, sequel to hit AA game Subnautica, is nearing the end of its early access period. And, in fact (said the hindbrain to my zip-tied rational mind), I had no idea what things might be tucked into the sea’s infinite black corners, far below or just beyond sight, watching me tread water, waiting for me to sink just a little closer… For all I could tell, I was inches from touching bottom-or there were fathoms and fathoms of water beneath me, enough to hide anything. With each additional inch of depth, I was overtaken by the knowledge that I had no idea how deep the water really was. I made it-oh, maybe it was a foot down, who knows? After a certain point, my body refused. Surely I, a brave, strapping lad, could dive a measly foot deep! Why, surely I could touch one of those bio-luminescent creatures, if I could just get the slightest bit closer. A bit frustrated by my cowardice, I tried forcing myself even a few inches further beneath the waves. My hair was barely under.Īnd I tried going deeper. ![]() I thought I’d sunk deep underwater, but as it turned out, I’d only gone a few inches down. All I had to do was look up, actually, and I could see the motorboat, the lights and the other swimmers-right next to me. When no one else in the tour group was looking, I took a deep breath and plunged in over my head.Īs soon as I submerged, I was paralyzed by fear. I wondered if I could get closer to the lights, which always seemed to hover just below my flippers. If you put your hand beneath the surface, it vanishes. Swimming pools do not trigger these ancestral memories. If you’ve never been yourself, it’s a hard experience to put in words the brain is hard-wired to feel certain things about the ocean. I’d been in seawater before, but never at night, and never out so far that my feet couldn’t touch the bottom. If you stared hard into the water, its inky blackness played tricks on your eyes so that even those pinpricks just out of reach seemed thousands of miles away. ![]() Our tour group actually got to swim in the bay you could try in vain to grab the faint little stars in your hand. ![]() When I was just a small boy-this was before the plague, you understand-she took me to a bay where bio-luminescent sea creatures lit up the water like stars at night. ![]()
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